“Tell me the truth. Did you arrange for that plane to crash?” There’s an edge in his voice I haven’t heard before, steel that tells me who he is: the man that spent six months in prison for killing someone and isn’t afraid to go back.
I shake my head from side to side, and I know it isn’t exactly a lie, although it’s not exactly the truth either. I wasn’t the one that had anything to do with arranging an escape. Piero was.
He lashes me again, but I don’t know why because I just told him the truth.
“Hey, why did you hit me again?”
“Because we’ve only just started this punishment. And I know that a part of you isn’t telling me the whole truth.”
How does he know? Is he skilled in interrogation?
Of course he is, I know he must be. The only thing I know about the mafia is that Elise’s bodyguard stays with her at all times. But he doesn’t tell her what to do, and he doesn’t do scary shit, at least not in front of her. He’s just a big tough guy, and her dad is scary as hell.
But this guy? This man who is not my husband? He’s the scariest one I’ve ever met.
His hand presses more firmly into my lower back, and I have to rearrange my dampened fingers so I don’t slip.
“Remember what I said about telling me the truth.” I feel his hand pressed on my back. I feel the fabric against my bare skin. I feel my throbbing, aching skin, but most of all I feel my need for sex. I want him. I hate that I do, because a part of me feels like there’s something wrong with me for wanting a man like this, a man I don’t love, a man who’s just whipped me.
“Tell me the answer to this question. I know what the answer is, but I want you to admit it.”
“Then why ask?” I snap, even though I know he’s going to spank me again for it. His belt comes down in three hard whaps, one after the other. Predictable, but still not something you can prepare for.
“Don’t you ever raise your voice to me,” he says. “Don’t you ever snap at me.”
“You heard what I said about wanting the perfect wife,” I snap at him. It is the wrong thing to say.
I don’t know what I expect him to do, but it’s not…this.
He drops the belt on the floor, and something tells me he isn’t finished with me yet. We’re high up on this huge, massive bed, so the metal buckle clatters to the floor with a bang.
He lifts me up and tosses me over his shoulder. Oh my God. Does he have, like...stocks, or chains, or some torture chamber here? Nothing would surprise me right about now.
Oh my God oh my God…
He slides me down his shoulder and plants me in front of a dresser with a huge, shiny mirror on top.
“Look right there,” he says, his hands on either side of my face, holding me in place. “Tell me what you see.”
I mumble with my cheeks pressed together. I glare at him to make him wonder which one of us he thinks I’m referring to. “A very angry newlywed.”
Bending down, he kisses my shoulder, then sinks his teeth into the soft spot between my neck and shoulder.
“Mine,” he says in a low growl before he looks in the mirror at me again. “Mine.”
It might sound nice and all? And I wish it were true, a part of me wishes that I was someone who mattered to him. But he’s only staking ownership because of pride, not because of any sense of really wanting me to be his.
I can’t find my voice. I don’t know what to say as he takes my hands and plants them palms down on the dresser in front of me. My palms slide along the glossy top as he reaches for the fastening of his pants. My pulse races.
I’ve never had sex before. Ever. And if he thinks the best way to teach me whatever he wants to teach me is by taking me against this dresser…
My pulse quickens, and I stop breathing. I’m dizzy.
Stark blue eyes meet mine in the mirror. They skewer me in place, holding me in their thrall. “If this wasn’t our wedding night, you’d be over my lap getting the spanking of your life for that mouth of yours. I’d redden your ass until you couldn’t breathe. Do you understand me?”
His hot, swollen cock is between my legs. I’ve never done this before, but a part of me wants him, aches to be filled by him. I swallow and nod.
“But spanking you is only one way to punish you.”
My logical brain is screaming at me as I bite back a retort. I have to stop mouthing off, or I might not survive this wedding night.