AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I run my hand over the smooth skin of her thigh, knee, her shin. I move around the bed and take one foot in my hands, and when I see the underside of it, every muscle in my body tenses. And that rumbling from earlier, it’s different now. Loud and possessive and enraged.
Both feet are heavily scarred. The bottoms whipped ruthlessly.
I hold them both, wanting to warm them. Heal them. They’re small for her height, the nails polished to perfection in her signature red. Flawless on one side. Damaged on the other. Like her.
“What are you doing?” Mercedes asks. I look up to find her staring at me, eyes wide with horror. She comes up onto her elbows. “What the hell are you doing?” she demands, tugging her feet from my grasp.
I allow her to pull away and study her face. Her eyes. There she is, inside them. A broken girl.
“Who did this to you?”
She swallows hard, eyes misting, and sits up. She draws the duvet onto her lap, over her breasts. “Like I said last night, it’s none of your business.”
“Santiago?” I ask, not wanting to. It can’t be, but what if I’m wrong? I’ll kill him. I’ll have to.
“No. God! Santi would never—” Her voice breaks, and it takes her a moment to compose herself and meet my eyes again. And when she does, hers are hard. Layers and layers of impenetrable obsidian. “What the hell do you think you’re doing by stripping me when I’m passed out?”
Inspecting you and checking for scars sounds weak.
I wanted to see your pussy one more time is closer to the truth.
The image of her earlier this morning when I took the crop to her floats back into memory. Her hips trapped by my thighs. Her ass positioned to take my punishment. The reddening marks. Her most secret parts on display for me. For me.
Not. For. You.
“You haven’t eaten anything.”
“Answer my fucking question because I’m damn sure my brother would not have okayed this!”
“Does he know about the scars?” I ask, stopping that line of questioning because, honestly, she’s right.
She falters. Hugs her arms a little closer.
“Does he?”
“No. And you’re not going to tell him.”
“Who did it?”
She sits back against the headboard and stares up at me, lips sealed tight.
“Tell me who, and I may not mention it to Santiago.”
“You’re going to blackmail me?”
“Mercedes—”
“Don’t.”
“Tell me.”
I watch her. I can’t look away.
“Don’t tell him.” She falters, shaking her head. “Please.”
I study her for a quiet moment. I won’t get an answer from her tonight, but I have time. “Why haven’t you eaten?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Hmm. I don’t know. Let’s see. You locked me in a room. You whipped my ass. My brother just kicked me out of my own house and out of his life. I have a maid—a fucking maid—who clearly takes pleasure in my suffering, and my jailor is a sadist. I don’t know why I have no fucking appetite!”
