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He chuckles, “You’ve decided tonight will be your first punishment then?”
“Sure,” I say because I’d rather be punished than talk about whatever is on his mind.
He chuckles, “Okay, baby. Talk then punishment. I’m going to take care of all your needs, Ivy. Including your emotional ones. I need to know what’s going on with you and Mercy.”
Backing away from him, I flip over to shut him out, “I don’t talk to my therapist about it, I’m sure as hell not talking to you about it.”
He runs his fingers down my back, “I’ll tell you something you want to know and then you tell me what I want to know.”
With that, he wins because a question has been burning in my mind since I first met him.
“Are you in love with her?”
“What? Who?”
Rolling over toward him, my eyes lock with his, “Mercy.”
A shocked expression crosses his face before he quickly schools his features, “How much do you know about what happened?”
“Everything,” I whisper.
Nash clenches his jaw, “They told you everything?”
With a long-drawn-out sigh, I tell him, “I read the court transcripts. I know everything.”
Nash
I jump off the bed and start getting changed.
“Get dressed. I’ll take you home.”
Everything. She fucking knows everything, all the details. We can’t move past this. Whatever this is between us was doomed from the start. Everything. Fuck. The fact that she called me a rapist told me she knew what happened. But I never expected sheknewevery disgusting detail. Mercy is her mother. How can she even look at me when I can’t look at myself?
“Nash, look at me.”
Shaking my head, I growl, “I said get fucking dressed.”
Ivy gets up and shoves her hands into my chest. My body doesn’t move, but my gaze moves to her when she starts screaming, “I don’t care what you did before. You were fucked up. You did bad things. I don’t care. I only care if you’re in love with her.”
“I’m not, nor was I ever in love with her. For a moment I thought I was. I was strung out and confused.”
She stands before me, completely naked, with wild eyes, fuck, she’s beautiful. I wish she hadn’t read those documents.
Hooking her thumbs in the waistband of my boxers, she pulls them down until they fall to the floor. “Nash, give me your pain.”
Ivy pulls my shirt up, and I help her pull it over my head, “I don’t want to hurt you, Princess.”
She smirks at me, “Yes, you do. Get your belt. Make it hurt.”
I watch Ivy move to the bed and bend over, feet on the floor, legs spread, ass in the air waiting for me to strike it.
Picking up my jeans from the floor, I pull the belt through the loops and stand behind her. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes,” she whimpers.
Rubbing my hands over her ass, I say, “Your safeword is red. If it gets to be too much, say red and I’ll stop immediately. Yellow means you’re getting close to your limit. Green means I can continue. I’ll check in with you after each hit. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she breathes.
