I gulp. Shit. He holds the leather something in his hand, a cluster of leather strips dangling from a sturdy handle. I stifle a cry when he gives it a little flick on my neck, the leather kissing my skin.
“Did you?” I whisper. “And what did he say?”
“That you were given your phone a few nights ago. He was quite surprised you hadn’t told me.”
Walking around me, he traces my body with the little leather tassels. “What is that thing?”
“A flogger.”
“Flogger?”
“Yeah, baby. Flogger. And the little leather strips are called falls.” I close my eyes when he brings his mouth to my ear. “Usually a flogger can be a very tame tool for punishment. I didn’t bring you here to punish you but to ask you some questions. They’re gentler than some other implements, unless I use a cat on you. But that could damage your skin.” It tickles as he lays it across my shoulders. “The thicker the falls, the more thud it brings. This will sting but not damage you.”
I nod, a little overwhelmed. My head swims.
“I have questions for you.”
I whimper. “Go for it.”
“Did you make any calls?”
When I don’t answer right away, the leather smacks against my ass, once, twice, three times, each lash leaving a little burst of pain. It’s nothing like his belt, though. It’s hardly even like his hand. It hurts, no doubt, but it’s a quick flare of erotic heat. The thought of him taking it to me, though, is intimidating as hell.
“Yeah. I did,” I choke out. “I called my friend. Told her we were married. That’s it.”
“But you didn’t think you had to tell me.” He whips me again with the flogger, harder than he did last time. It burns.
“No! I… I wanted a little privacy.” It’s not a lie.
“Didn’t you know I’d find out? I told you we’d tap your phone.”
I didn’t say anything to her that would get us in trouble. I knew there’s only an illusion of privacy here at all. I knew he’d find out but figured it was worth the risk.
I nod and close my eyes when the falls land across my ass once, twice, three more times. It brings a sting with a sensual heat unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I look over my shoulder and see him standing behind me, his eyes dark little pools in a sea of darkness. He holds the flogger in his hand upright, then flicks his wrist before he snaps it again.
“You have no privacy here. You know that. As a daughter of mafia, you should know that.”
I should tell him. I have to. If I don’t tell him now, we’ll only end up here again, only it will be so much worse for me. Maybe for both of us.
I can’t do it. I open my mouth, and all that comes out is a strangled cry when he lets loose another lash of the flogger. It hurts, but nothing like what I’ve experienced before. This is almost a warning, and he’s told me he doesn’t want to punish me.
“What did your friend say when you told her that you were married?”
He doesn’t know, not yet.
“She isn’t happy.”
It’s true. She isn’t. She wants me to get away from him.
“And what then? What was your plan on telling me?”
I take a deep breath and decide on the truth. At least part of it. “I decided to let you find out in your own time. I decided that I… didn’t want you to find out any other way. I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to lose that little, tiny bit of privacy I had left.”
He doesn’t speak but applies a lash with wicked precision. One smack after the other lands, and I want to cry. It burns and hurts, one wicked lash after the other building a wicked, consuming heat.
I feel like I want to cry. There’s a lump in my throat, but I can’t let it go. My back, my ass, my thighs, all burn from the pain of the lashing.
I try to gather my courage; I need to tell him something. I need to tell him the truth. I shake my head, trying to clear my brain, but I don’t even know where to begin.
“Orlando…” My voice is shaky, and footsteps clatter at the doorway. He comes up behind me and rests his head on top of mine.
“You have to tell me the truth,” he says in my ear. “I told you what would happen if you didn’t. I told you the danger that you’d be in. Not just from me, Elise. There’s a hierarchy of command here and not everything’s within my control.”
He’s right. I’m in so much danger I don’t even know how to begin to tell him the truth at this point. What would he do if he knew that I wasn’t the woman I said I was? Even if he knew my motive? But if he finds out any other way… I have to tell him.