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“I don’t have them. It wasn’t me. How many times do I have to repeat that?”
She could say it on a loop, and it wouldn’t change a thing. No one else could have filmed up there, at that very moment.
"I know you'll find it difficult to believe, but I'm trying to help you." I bring the tip of my crop to her chin, tilting it upwards. "Whatever I do to you? Trust that it's far, far less than what anyone else would have, if they'd found you first."
She stares at me like I’m nothing but a rat, not worthy to breathe her air.
It's fascinating how proud she is, this girl, certain of her own worth, her own power.
Most girls tend to lack confidence, even when they're gorgeous, clad in designer clothing from head to toe, perfectly made up, rich, and popular. Sarah has none of these things, but she has the poise, the dignity. It's a rare, innate power, and it's incredibly alluring.
I'm not enough of a hypocrite to deny I want to strip her of that pride, along with everything else.
And thanks to herstubbornness, I might just get to today.
"If you imagine your prickliness is doing anything other than making me hard, you're mistaken, your highness."
"Stop calling me that,” she grits between her teeth.
I trace the tip of the crop along her neck, then her shoulder, then her arm."But it suits you so."
When I reach her wrist, I draw back and slap it down—not as hard as I could, but enough to immediately leave a light mark on her smooth skin.
I don't miss her surprised intake of breath.
"It's not very painful, is it?" I say, my eyes staying on hers, taking in every shift in her expression. The bewilderment. The curiosity.
She likes it.
Holy fuck, Sarah Andrews likes a little pain with her pleasure. Not in a million years would I have guessed as much.She’s rewriting everything I know about her the last few days.
It makes things a little more complicated than I would have liked: if she’s a bit of a masochist behind the prim and proper exterior, it’ll be harder to intimidate her into a confession. It means I’ll have to push.
I can’t say I, or my throbbing cock twitching in my pants, find this development unpleasant.
"At first, it’s nothing much, but see, if I do this again on the same spot…" I'm happy to demonstrate, with a much lighter tap this time.
She jumps up a little, alert.
"See? It’s a little sorer."
She doesn't look like she's in much pain. Oh, no. Her highness seems wide awake. Curious. I have her attention.
And who would have expectedthat?
I let my arms fall back to my side.
"I don't want to work you over, Sarah." That's not quite accurate, and she knows it. I doubt the heat in my eyes hides what I’d like to do to her right now. To be more honest, I reword my statement. "You're a friend of a friend. It'll make things complicated. Talk to me, and I won't have to. I'll let you go right away,” I promise, meaning it.
"Yeah? You'll let me go, although you know the first thing I'll do is go to the police to report you drugging and hitting me?" she spits, fiery as ever.
Oh, she's hilarious.
I cock my head at an angle. “Do you truly think threatening me is to your advantage, Sarah?”
Who would have thought her principles would override her common sense?
“Let’s play this out,” I purr. “Say you go to the police. What do you think will happen once you do? Other than you getting kicked out of Rothford for lying.”
