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My cheeks flame despite myself as I blurt, “Of course not. I didn’t find time to change.”
“You didn’t find time to change.”
“I really didn’t.”
“Did I say anything?”
“Your tone says it all. You think I’m lying.”
“Are you?” He traces my soft entrance and I jolt at the contact. “Is that why you’re already wet, hmm?”
I screw my eyes shut as he rids me of my panties and glides his fingers over my slick folds, fondling them, assessing them with utmost care.
“I haven’t begun to touch you, and yet, your body is burning with anticipation for the punishment. For someone who was acting high and mighty just a few minutes ago, it seems that the promise of punishment was enough to provoke your deepest, darkest secrets. Do you recognize what that is, Lenochka?”
I shake my head violently but stops when he brushes my hair to the side so his lips can find my ear again. With my eyes closed, everything is heightened—his callous touch, his warm breath, and his scent—that dangerous mix of woods and leather.
“You’re a masochist to my sadism, Lia.”
“Shut up!”
“And that’s eleven. Open your eyes or it’ll be twelve.”
I slowly do, staring at my bound hands, feeling the helplessness in my bones. And yet, a certain type of freedom overwhelms me. Something I’ve only ever felt when I was drunk, roaming the streets with no purpose other than to stay alive.
“Now count or it will go up.”
I don’t know what he means until the belt whistles in the air before coming down on my ass. A scream bubbles in my throat as searing pain explodes on my skin. If I thought his hand hurt, his belt is in a league of its own. The welt it leaves on my flesh aches and burns, bringing stinging tears to my eyes.
I want to shout, to express the physical agony, but I refuse to show him my pain as well as pleasure. I bite down on my lip.
“Do you want the count to go up, Lia, hmm?”
“One.” My voice trembles around the word.
It’s barely out before the belt hits again. I jolt, trapping my lip so hard that I nearly break the barely-healed skin from this morning. It takes me a few seconds to mutter, “T-two…”
“I wonder, how long do you think you can seal yourself off from me? Is it worth it?”Slap. Slap.
“Three…four.” I’m sobbing now, my tears wetting the pillow as my teeth break the skin. Blood coats my lips, forcing me to taste metal, but I don’t scream. Not even once. I don’t beg him to stop either, because that will only steal away my dignity.
“Have it your way.” His voice is so calm, and yet so dark that a shiver for something a lot different from the pain takes my body hostage.
By the seventh strike, I think I’ll stop feeling my ass altogether, but that’s not the case.
Far from it.
And it’s with horror that I come to terms with the reason behind the change.
Adrian brushes his fingers over the welts and I hiss, but the sound is about to turn into something else when he gently glides his thumb over the hurt skin, mixing the pain with a softness I never thought he was capable of.
A softness that confiscates my air and pauses my anguished sobs.
Something in me jostles and quivers with the need for friction.
Wait. What?
“What are you doing?” My voice is as shaky as my insides, full of tears and confusion—both at his behavior and mine.
