Page 117 of The Pact

Studying his face, I wonder why he’s like this. Why doesn’t he let anyone care for him the way he cares for everyone else? My chest aches thinking about how lonely Damian must be, at least emotionally.

It’s against my better judgment. I want to stand my ground. That’s what the new Thea’s supposed to be doing. Yet something tugs at me. He needs to open up, so I shove away my pride.

I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t take your feelings into consideration. I’m used to watching out for myself. Having so many people around that want to care for me…protect me, is unusual. But you don’t have to punish me. I’m trying my best.”

Damian chuckles low, making my eyes narrow. “Oh princess, that wasn’t your punishment.” The wording and the sudden gleam of deviousness in his eyes makes my back straighten.

“I-uh…what does that mean?” I swallow thickly. Nervousness thrums through me.

He pushes off of the counter and steps towards me until he’s between my legs.

The last time we were this close, I was practically begging him to kiss me. My cheeks burn, remembering how he essentially rejected me. I should move. I should put some distance between us.

But Damian’s presence is intoxicating, making my pulse race even though he’s barely touching me. My head feels hazy and my mouth dry. His hands grip the counter on either side of my legs. I could scramble backwards if I wanted to, yet I feel entirely caged in and part of me doesn’t want to be released.

“I’m keeping a tally. Each time you disrespect or disobey me, you’ll be punished.” Damian’s gaze drops to my mouth.

My voice comes out shakier than I’d like. “What kind of punishment?” My mind runs through the things he could do. Kick me out. Ask for the rent money back. Ban Cole and the others from seeing me. My body trembles at the possibilities of how my life could get so much worse.

Damian takes a lock of my hair and twirls it around his finger. “That’s up for negotiation. I’m not completely unreasonable.” He leans in so that we are cheek to cheek. Whispering in my ear, he lists what he has in mind. “I could spank you.” My breath hitches. “Tie you up.” Fuck, why is this doing something for me? “Gag that defiant little mouth of yours.” My hips involuntarily push towards him, however, he backs up an inch. “Or maybe I could get you so close to coming and then take it away…over and over again, until I feel you deserve it.”

He pulls away completely and a rush of cold air replaces his body heat. Damian’s eyes study me, cataloging all the signs that tell him I’m turned on. I can’t help the way he makes my body react. He’s reveling in the power he has over me.

I hate that Damian knows I would give myself to him entirely, and he’s the one choosing not to take it further. Fuck him.

Once I compose myself, giving him a deep scowl. He lets out a little laugh at my annoyance. Stepping forward once more, he puts his hands on my waist, hoisting me down from the island. Although he doesn’t let go right away. Instead, he brings a hand to my face. Squeezing the sides of my mouth roughly, making my lips form an O.

“Just remember, princess, you are mine to pamper but you are also mine to punish. I’ll decide when and where you’ll get either.” He lets my mouth go and walks back towards his room.

I want to yell after him that he isn’t the boss of me. He can’t tell me what to do, yet the knowledge that he’s keeping count of my missteps stops me.

Part of me is nervous about the extent of his punishments. Are they playful or painful? I’ve never had anyone punish me. That’s where the other part of me comes in. A rush of excitement courses through me at the thought of him doing those things to me.

If I keep disobeying him will he break down faster? Can I push him to punish me sooner than whatever timeline he has in his head? Do I want to be punished? A shiver runs over my skin at these contrasting feelings.

Pushing them away as best I can, I get the mess of glass, blood, water, and flowers cleaned up.

40

THEA

“I want to go. I’m feeling fine!” Wesley and I have been going back and forth for the last ten minutes. He thinks I need a few more days to build up my strength before attempting a hike.

I disagree.

“You’re not ready. You are still pale and you couldn’t even open that jar of pickles earlier.” My face heats, knowing that he’s right, but I need to get out and do something aside from work. I also need to get my mind off of Gavin.

My test results came back yesterday. Dr. Yarbor confirmed I’d been exposed to gluten. Any doubt I had that it was some kind of strange coincidence vanished with that phone call. Now, being stuck in this house is only making my paranoia and anxiety grow.

I cross my arms and give him a look of defiance. “I’m going, with or without you. If not this afternoon, then tomorrow. You can’t watch me twenty-four seven.” I throw a smug grin at him.

Wesley wants to argue. However, he knows I’m right. “Get a bag packed. We leave in fifteen.” I watch him stalk off, feeling only slightly bad.

He’s trying to take care of me, but I’ve been doted on enough. I want to get my mind off of everything going on with Gavin. Cassie too.

Thirty minutes later, we’re hitting the trail head. The summer heat makes my skin sticky almost instantaneously. Fall can’t come soon enough. I’m dying for cool breezes, red and orange foliage, pumpkins, and hot cider.

“Have you been on this trail before?” I call out from behind.

---