Page 59 of Taming Scarlet

I didn’t think she would make it far before she felt ready to confess.

“Do you have anything to say yet?” I asked.

When there was no answer, I swung again. It was the same amount of force, but her cry was louder this time.

“Two,” she gasped.

When nothing else was said, I went for a third.

“Three.”

Then a fourth.

But this one landed on a spot on her ass that had already been struck, making her almost shoot up off of the table.

“How many, pet?” I asked.

“Four,” she hiccuped.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

She sniffled, but said nothing else.

One last one should do it.

“Five,” she cried. “You stopped wanting me!” she added, the words tripping over each other.

What?

“What was that, pet?” I asked, setting the belt aside, and moving up a few steps to squat down next to where she curled herself up in the fetal position on the table.

“All you wanted to do was talk to me,” she said, covering her face with her hands like it embarrassed her to say them. “You weren’t giving me any…”

She trailed off, letting me finish the thought.

“Attention,” I filled in as it dawned on me what the problem was.

“Yes,” she said, sniffling harder, her voice sounding thick.

Real emotions were hard as fuck for her.

I wondered if that was from an absent dad, a nanny who didn’t give a fuck about her, or from the combination of the two that left her feeling like no one gave a shit about how she felt, so she was better off pushing it down, and never admitting to any depth of emotion about anyone or anything.

“Okay,” I said, reaching for her arms, pulling until she followed and slid off of the table, letting me pull her into my arms.

I didn’t say anything for a long moment, just letting her actuallyfeelher feelings for the first time in a long time.

My hand rose, holding the back of her head.

“There are different kinds of attention, pet,” I told her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as her fingers tightened on the lapels of my jacket. “The superficial type and the below-surface type. I wanted to get to know you. That is attention too. Asking you questions. Listening to you when you speak.”

Her body racked slightly as she let out another sad sniffle.

“But I may have forgotten how much you enjoy the other type of attention,” I admitted. We’d get nowhere if I wasn’t willing to admit to my mistakes.

Of course she needed me to compliment her, to want to touch her. That was how she’d come to acknowledge her value. On the superficial shit.

Her pretty was what she felt she had to offer.

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