Page 7 of His to Hold

Startled, I rear up from the desk. Antonio catches me, his hands wrapping around my upper arms. He leans in close to whisper in my ear, not because he’s afraid of being overheard, but to be extra menacing. A shudder runs down my spine.

“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is yell taxi.”

My jaw clenches. Antonio can be an evil swine when he wants to be. He’s aware I can’t risk walking away from his protection. With no other option but to comply, I bow my head in defeat.

“Good girl. I knew you’d make the smart choice.”

It’s not the smart choice. It’s the only one I’ve got, and he knows it. Eventually, Rico’s family will wonder if I have information about his death and they’ll come looking for me. Antonio can keep me safe.

“Now, get back in position.”

Antonio lets go of my arms and I lie across the desk once more with my arms stretched out over my head. I push up onto my tiptoes so I can reach the opposite side and curl my fingers around the edge of the desk. Hopefully, having something to hold on to will help me get through this.

My heart rate picks up as I hear Antonio unbuckling his belt and sliding it through the loops of his dress pants. I grit my teeth. How bad is this going to be? His hand made my ass burn. A belt is surely going to hurt more. Gripping the edge of the desk, I suck in a breath and wait for him to begin.

CHAPTER 3

Antonio

When Isabella was a kid, hanging about with Matteo, I’d already been inducted into the family organization. I was too busy building my reputation to pay much notice to her. She was just there, in the background. She was a sweet girl, but at six years younger than me, she wasn’t someone I was interested in. That changed when she turned up for Matteo’s eighteenth birthday celebration looking all grown up in a gorgeous blue gown that clung to her curves. Her long, dark hair had trailed over her bare shoulders and her vivid green eyes sparkled. I was captivated, but still I waited another five years before making her mine. I was too busy establishing myself as the boss to think about marriage. When I did finally make her my wife, she ripped my fucking heart out.

Now, draped across my desk, Isabella is a vision of loveliness. Her bare ass is already a pretty shade of pink and I can’t wait to add a few red stripes with my belt. I don’t know what it is about seeing her in my ratty old t-shirt, but a primal urge to claim this woman takes hold of me. I need to make sure she understands, however, that things have changed. My protection comes at a price and she’d better be prepared to pay it.

“Relax, Bella.” She’s lying there as stiff as a board. “This will hurt more if you’re tense.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” she demands petulantly. “For it to hurt?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t enjoy the thought of causing you pain. I’m doing this because I need you to be safe and that means obeying my commands.”

She mumbles something that might have been ‘whatever.’ I should chastise her for the insolence, but Isabella has been through a lot with Rico. She hasn’t had a chance to come to terms with being back in my home either. I don’t want to overwhelm her with overly harsh discipline. The last thing I want to deal with is an emotional breakdown.

“You’re to count each stroke.” It will help Isabella to focus on what’s happening rather than allowing her mind to wander. “Understood?”

“Yes.”

I still don’t appreciate her tone. She’s a grown woman, not a recalcitrant teenager. I tap her butt with the edge of my belt and she gets the message to loosen her muscles. The moment she unclenches, I draw my arm back and bring the thick leather strap down across the full width of her perfectly rounded ass.

“Oh, ow!” Isabella shrieks. She jerks upright and then settles back down on the desk before I have to tell her to resume her position. “One.”

The second time I strike her with the belt, she hisses sharply.

“Two.” The way she moans makes my cock twitch. This spanking may prove as difficult for me as it is for her.

With the third lash across her butt, Isabella screeches loudly. Tears roll down her cheeks, but she remembers the count, spitting out the word ‘three’ at me like it’s a curse. Her flesh is a deeper shade of pink now. I raise the belt and just manage to stop myself swinging it as she reaches back to rub away the ache in her bottom.

“Get back in position.” My tone is harsh. “And do not reach behind you again, or I’ll tie you down and thrash you until you’re begging for mercy.”

Isabella’s shoulders slump, and she lowers herself back onto the hard surface. She grips the far edge of the desk so tightly her knuckles turn white. I aim for a fresh spot on the fleshiest part of her bottom for the fourth stroke. As it lands, leaving a beautiful red mark, Isabella claws at the wooden desk.

“Four,” she cries out.

She dances from one foot to the other before settling to receive a fifth stripe on her gorgeous ass. I deliver it with precision, hitting the exact spot I intended to on her left buttock. The scream she emits is almost inhuman. She bounces on her toes a couple of times and then sags against the desk.

Isabella’s reactions are a lot more dramatic than I expected. She’s not the first woman whose ass I’ve reddened, but I suspect this is a novel experience for her. In the few weeks we were together after our marriage, she was on her best behavior and I had no reason to punish her. Perhaps I should have given her an introductory spanking back then, so she’d know what it feels like.

“Five.” Her voice is little more than a whisper.

I bring the belt down once more and it cracks off her tender flesh. Isabella wails loudly and rocks her hips from side to side. Her mouth twists and her eyes screw shut. She’s hurting now. I’m about to tell her I’ll let her off with one more strike, but she speaks first, shocking the hell out of me.

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