Page 77 of Wicked Revenge

“Apple.”

His already darkened eyes transcend into the deepest obsidian I’ve ever seen. Without waiting another second, he drops my chin and steps away from me. My tense body sags into the mattress, my eyes fluttering shut to hide the disappointment I feel at the loss of his touch.

My knees are still bent and tucked close to my body, but like a jolt of lightning, his hands grab my ankles, pulling them straight out before flipping me over on my stomach. A startled gasp rushes out of me in surprise, my entire body burning like flames licking against my skin.

“Get on your knees,” he grits out.

His hands are like vice grips on my ankles as he pushes them forward to assist me. His commanding tone has my pussy clenching around nothing, desperate for a release I don’t know if he will give me.

His hands leave my ankles, but his fingers trail a feather-light touch up the backs of my legs and over my round ass before disappearing. I raise onto my elbows as my head drops forward, my fiery locks shrouding around my head for only a second before he gathers it up in his hands, sending sharp pricks of pain on my scalp as he lifts my head and tilts it back.

I’m staring at the ceiling, contemplating how I ended up here, when I feel his hands gathering my hair. He twists and weaves it together, forming a braid with my unruly locks.

The gentle action stuns me, so tender, yet his touch is just as dominating. I don’t let myself read too much into it, though, because as soon as he finishes, he lays the thick braid on my back and moves away from me again.

He gives me whiplash with how he treats me. Like he sees me as a fragile little doll made of glass, like he has to protect me from the world, but at the same time, he wants to break me so he can pick up all the pieces and mold them back together himself.

He reappears at my side, startling me from my thoughts when he gently places his thumb and finger on my chin, turning my face to him.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, and the look in his dark, stormy eyes has my mouth speaking before I can even think about it.

“Yes.”

It’s a simple word. But one that holds the weight of all my fears. Trusting in someone other than myself hasn’t been something I’ve allowed myself to do since I was taken. It’s something I tried to work on when I was with Snow, but it took a long time for me to even start trusting them not to hurt me.

I barely know Royal and his brothers, but my soul seems to know them. Trust suddenly doesn’t feel like such a scary thing. It feels as natural as breathing.

“Good girl,” he growls out, cupping my face for a moment, searching for any sign of distress or fear.

When he doesn’t find anything, his hand falls away for a moment before my vision goes dark and I feel him wrap something soft over my eyes before tying it off at the back of my head.

Giving him my absolute submission, I stay silent, steadying my breath that wants to punch out of me in anticipation of what he has planned. Even though I know this is my punishment for running, I don’t expect the sharp pain when it slashes across my bare ass. My loud cry echoes around the almost silent room.

He didn’t spank me with his hand. The welt I can feel blossoming on my skin tells me he is using a belt or something similar. Before I can catch my breath and speak, his words cut through the silence.

“Do you know why I am punishing you, Raena?”

His warm hand massages the ache he caused. My body jolts against the sting before it melts into his touch, spreading warmth down my ass and straight to my already dripping pussy.

“Yes sir,” I reply breathlessly. “I ran and put myself in danger.”

I don’t think I could get any more turned on than I am right now. The hand that is massaging my ass tightens, digging his fingers into the tender flesh as a deep rumble shudders through his body.

I might be the one on my knees, getting my ass spanked for running, but I can feel the power my submission gives me. He is just as affected by me, as I am by him. His grip on me loosens as he composes himself once more.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” His voice sounds like he smokes a pack of cigarettes a day, coming out gritty and rough. His praise sends a shiver down my spine and warmth spreads through my chest for pleasing him. I am so fucked for this man. “I am going to spank your ass five more times. I want you to count each one.”

“Okay,” I whisper, anxiety and excitement swirling in my chest equally as I nod my head in obedience.

His belt is swift, the first swing striking my ass with enough force to leave a mark, but not break the skin. Tears prick the back of my eyelids as I cry out.

“One!”

He doesn’t stop to speak or massage the bruised skin. He just swings again, hitting the opposite cheek this time. My breath catches at the impact, it feels harder than the one before. The first tears escape my eyes, trailing down my cheek.

“Two!” I cry out again, overwhelmed by an intense release of emotion.

I expect to feel angry like I felt earlier, but this almost feels cathartic. Purging. Like a heavy weight lifting off my chest. I definitely don’t expect the flood of liquid heat to rush out of me, dripping down my inner thighs.

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