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The automatic light goes off in the entrance as soon as I’m inside. There’s low symphonic music playing in the background. I’m surprised to find her small figure lying on the sofa. Lia is sleeping on the side, her hand under her ear, and she’s covered with a fuzzy woolen blanket.
Her lips are slightly parted and her legs are tucked behind her. She looks so soft, so breakable, my Lenochka. She can be marked just as easily, too, and that part of me, the part that I shouldn’t be giving weight to, is demanding that.
I turn off the music using the remote and plan to carry her to the bedroom, but as soon as the sound dies, her eyes flutter open.
She sits upright, and when her gaze meet mine, panic and something else whirls in the depths of the mesmerizing blue.
I hate that look. I want to erase it so that it’s not her first reaction to me.
It’s been more than a month and she still considers me the villain she painted me as that first time. While I didn’t give a fuck about her labels at the beginning, I now want her to let her guard down when around me, without me having to touch her sexually.
Lia might revel in my touch and even crave the depravity, but she’s still surrounding herself with barbed wire and the deadly thorns she mentioned the other day.
Wires and thorns I plan to eradicate.
“Adrian,” she says softly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Her demeanor stiffens, all softness purging from her delicate features. “For how long? Until the morning?”
“For as long as I please.”
“You can’t come and go as you please. I’m not your whore.”
“Then what are you?”
I can tell my apathetic tone pisses her off since her cheeks turn a deep red. “I don’t want to be your anything.”
“Are you sure it’s not the opposite?”
“Stop putting words in my mouth, you crazy, sick bastard.”
“One strike.”
“For calling you what you are?”
“For being angry at yourself for illogical reasons and taking it out on me. Now, come here.”
“No.”
“Two. If you don’t do as you’re told in the next second, the count will keep going up.”
She glares up at me, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Three. I see that spanking has no effect on you anymore. Have you gotten used to your punishments, Lenochka?”
“You need help, okay?”
“Four. And you do, too, because I can see that anticipation in your pretty eyes.”
“It’s called hatred.”
“Five.” I pause for a second. “Six.” Another. “Seven.”
Her face reddens even further and I can tell she’s fighting her pride to save herself. That she knows I won’t back down and it’ll only end badly for her if she keeps up the attitude.
Finally, she scrambles to her feet, eyes flashing with fire. “Fine. Do your spankings and leave me alone.”
