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“Podgotovsja!”
Wa-tch!
My ass and the backs of my thighs are on fire, each welt throbbing...
“Podgotovsja!”
I don't move, nor do I cry out, even while tears swim in my eyes. I just take the beating, going into a numb zone.
———
Eleven strikes in succession, Maksim groaning after each one, and it's over.
I almost pass out with relief that it's over, my head swimming with endorphins. I take deep, steady breaths now that I can, blinking away the black spots in my vision.
The belting wasn't that bad. I've suffered much, much worse. If anything, I think Maksim has been too soft on me.
“One more week, Blaire,” he says, leaning over me from behind. The buttons on his suit are cold against my naked, wounded flesh. “If you do not successfully attain fifteen minutes, this-” he rubs my ass with a rough, open palm, starting with my left cheek, and then my right, making me wince, “-will be child's-play compared to how I will punish you.”
The next breath I take-in shakes in my throat. He's been soft with me so the next hiding takes full effect. Now it makes sense.
“I want to see you at my house on Saturday at nineP.M.,” he whispers, a Russian gargle in each of his words. “My driver will collect you from here.”
Saturday is exactly one week from now. I'm petrified. I'll never have his fifteen minutes, and I know that what he says is the truth—this was child's-play compared to what he's going to do to me.
“You understand, Blaire?”
“Ye-yes,c?pMaksim.”
“Good. You can pull up your clothes, my little pet.”
I do. Under his tall frame because he's still towering over me, I pull down my t-shirt, then pull up my pants and trousers.
Maksim stands back when I'm fully clothed, ordering, “Get up.”
Pushing to my feet, I grimace, grinding my teeth because my clothes chafe against my red and sore behind. Yeah, it wasn't that harsh of a beating but it still stings.
“Here, my little pet.” Maksim passes me a bottle of cream from his suit jacket pocket. Hunching down, he kisses my face, pressing his lips to the sharp of my cheekbone. “So you can focus on the job and not your pain. You know the drill—apply three times a day.”
His arms wrap around me, burying my face in his warm chest, sheathing me in the smell of burnt brut. I remain as still as a rock, empty of emotion, my hands hanging by my sides. I'm used to thisforthis is how Maksim comes. A beating follows disobedience and tenderness follows brutality. It's always been this way.
“You know,” he husks out, brushing down the back of my hair over the curves of my spine, “if you want to make me happy again, why don't you get on your knees and please me, my little pet?”
My heart leaps into my throat, but I obey. Shutting my eyes, I slide through his embrace, down to my knees, and reach for the zipper of his trousers with one hand, squeezing the bottle of cream in my other. I will myself not to think about it while he strokes the top of my head, that if I hurry up, it'll be over.
“C?pMaksim,” I hear from behind, and my heart sinks.
“Ahhh, my pet,” Maksim purrs. “What a surprise.”
I glance over to see James standing in the doorway, dressed in his black combat gear. In a panic I try to check out his face to see if he's okay but I'm too guilty/nervous. I know what happens next.
“I'm sorry,” he says, lifting a defensive hand. “I didn't know you were here. I just wanted to check in on Blaire because I haven't heard from her in a while.”
“Of course you did, my pet.” Maksim chuckles with dark desire, and I feel that he stares down at me when he whispers, “Always just in time, isn't he, Blaire?”
I flinch against my given name, and then he shoves my head back, forcing me to fall on my sore ass. The bottle drops out of my hand with a light thud and rolls away under my bed. I consider crawling after it but end up cuddling myself, gazing deadpan at the floor. I'm pushing filthy images of him fucking James from my mind. He often makes me watch but James says it's okay because at least I'm safe from Maksim's sexual attention.
It's quiet for a moment, bar the blood roaring in my ears. I expect they're exchanging knowing looks.
