The Black Fox - Page 7

The relief I feel that Lolita’s safe is quickly overtaken by all-consuming rage.

Valeria leaps to her feet. “There you are! Lolita, it’s after curf—”

I hold out my arm, preventing her from going to her daughter. “Go to bed. I’ll deal with her myself.”

My wife gazes up at me with doe-eyes, and then meekly does what I say. Lolita watches in shock as her mother walks quickly out of the room without even looking at her.

“Mama’s never done what a man has told her to do her whole life,” Lolita says.

I believe it. I’ve never given Valeria a direct order before, because I haven’t wanted to and she’d probably laugh at me. But something more powerful than any of us in charge tonight and it’s lending its power to me. I feel it thrumming through me as I slowly approach my stepdaughter.

“You’re late.”

Lolita backs up toward the door, her terrified eyes never leaving my face. I put out my hand and shove the door closed, crowding her against it. “Who were you with?”

Lolita swallows and stares up at me with huge eyes. She can sense it, too, this power crackling through me. It’s like a hit of adrenalin and a shot of whisky, making me invincible.

“No one.”

I slam my fist against the door, and she jumps. “Don’t lie to me.” The scent from her body is of the warm summer night and fragrant flowers. I’d know, wouldn’t I, if she’s had some man pressed against her? I grasp her chin and turn her head in the light, examining her lips and throat. Her mouth isn’t swollen with kisses. There are no red bite-marks on her creamy neck. The tight band around my heart eases a little.

She yanks her chin from my hand and glares at me. “Get your hands off me.”

“In this house, you will obey my rules,” I seethe.

“Go to hell.”

So that’s how it’s going to be. That’s how she thinks it will be, anyway. I’m glad she’s misbehaved on her very first night. We can get things straight from the beginning. “Say you’re sorry for breaking the rules.”

Lolita forces a laugh. There’s defiance in her eyes, but fear, too. She isn’t sure how far I’m willing to take this.

All the way.

I reach down and slowly unbuckle my belt, the black leather sliding through the silver buckle. “Last chance, Lolita. Say, I’m sorry, daddy.”

Her voice is a horrified whisper. “You wouldn’t dare.”

There’s nothing I wouldn’t dare do right now. There’s a voice whispering in the back of my mind, showing me the way forward. I loop the belt around her neck and draw her to me. “Tell daddy you’re sorry, and I’ll let you off just this once.”

Her eyes flicker with panic but she doesn’t say anything. I tighten the belt around her throat until she struggles to breathe. “I’ve got all night. You’ve got about a minute till you pass out.”

“I’m sorry,” she finally chokes out.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” I prompt.

Her face creases with revulsion. I smile a slow, smoldering smile, anticipating how sweet it will sound from her pretty pink mouth.

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Her lips are so close to mine that I could drop a kiss onto them. Her breasts are pressed against my chest. I can smell her innocence, just begging to be consumed.

A delicacy like Lolita is meant to be savored. Slowly, I loosen my hold on the belt, slide it free from her neck and step back. “Daddy forgives you.”

Lolita takes great, heaving breaths. “I’ll tell Mama what you just did. What you made me call you, you pervert.”

I chuckle, threading my belt back through my pants. “Go ahead. It’s not as if she’ll believe you, you filthy little liar.”

Lolita bursts into tears, yanks the door open, and runs from the room. I watch her disappear down the hall, still grinning.

Then the smile dies on my face.

I stagger and clutch the door frame as horror crashes over me. What the fuck was I just doing to my stepdaughter? The righteous anger that sustained me all evening and told me that terrorizing Lolita was the right thing to do has evaporated, and I’m left cold and empty. I hear a snatch of malicious laughter, and whip around.

“Who’s there?”

The castillo is empty around me. The chirping cicadas cut through the night air. I look down at my hands, the ones that so recently held my belt tight around Lolita’s throat, and see that they’re shaking.

Who am I? What am I becoming? I don’t recognize myself from the man I was this morning. The man I was before I met Lolita.

I charge upstairs, passing the door to Valeria’s bedroom and Lolita’s. I keep going until I reach a storage room where my things are packed away. There’s a large wooden chest, and I fall to my knees before it and dig a key out of my pocket.

Tags: Brianna Hale Romance
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