Page 10 of The Broken Wolf's Redemption

“I could use this on you, but not yet.” He held the belt out to her, the square metal buckle gleaming. “Run it over your thighs.”

She snatched it, sighing in relief that he wouldn’t be the one wielding it, but then paused, like she couldn’t figure out just how she was to follow that command. He gave her no further instruction, and so she took the leather end with the holes and pressed the bluntly arrowed point into her skin. She ran it down and then up, watching what she was doing.

“I want you to smack your thighs with it. I want you to leave marks.”

Her head shot up. She barely controlled herself from hurling something nasty at him. He watched her jaw click as she ground her teeth.

Unexpectedly, she snapped the belt, hissing as the leather made contact with her skin. She kept her eyes on him the whole time. They burned, but they weren’t wells of hate. She hit herself again, still refusing to watch herself do it. She made that hissing sound again, over and over as she made contact with her thighs.

He didn’t watch as the belt struck her flesh. He watched her face, her supreme concentration, the determination to hide the elemental truth from him and herself.

“Are you cursing yourself right now, darling, for never bothering to write into that contract the specifics of what we’re doing? I won’t harm you, which I did state, but I could command you to harm yourself.”

“This is bullshit.” The belt went lax in her hand. She’d hit herself hard, he saw with a satisfaction that warmed him more than he ever thought it could. Red marks decorated her thighs right above the black and gray ink that dominated so much of her skin.

She was heavily tattooed, and he’d hardly seen any of it. Nothing but her arms. He wanted to let his eyes linger on her artwork, wanted to try to determine how much of it she’d done herself, but now wasn’t the time.

No time was the time.

She rammed her thighs shut when she noticed him staring at the welts.

“Close your thighs again and you will be punished,” he said flatly, chillingly. People didn’t like being spoken to that way, he’d found. He watched as a shiver rolled through her, exactly as he’d expected.

She swung them open and ran her fingers over the welts. “There. Prick. Is this what you want?”

Why punish her for every infraction when the fight was so delightful? “Run the buckle over your slit. Trace it from the bottom, hard, up to your clit.”

Her knuckles turned white when she clasped the buckle. All the attention was suddenly right there. Her body stiffened when she realized what he already knew. She’d soaked the panties. It was obvious on the white fabric. It was even more obvious when she traced her slit, pressing the damp fabric so that it outlined her in glaring detail.

“You didn’t need the white panties,” she growled, but she kept going until she reached the little bud that made her tense again, though she tried to hide her reaction to the stimulation. “You could have smelled me.”

He lifted a shoulder. She wasn’t watching him. She couldn’t look at him now. “Yes, but that’s hardly any fun. I like it this way.”

“Of course you would. Why? Because it’s humiliating?”

“Only if you choose to see it that way.”

“What other way is there?” The belt stopped at her clit. He hadn’t given her further instruction. She wasn’t going to watch him to anticipate what he wanted. Not yet, but one day. One day, she’d want to give him her pleasure as badly as she wanted to give it to herself.

There was time. Six delicious months of it.

“I think you’re lying about not enjoying the pain. You’ve ruined your panties. Soaked clean through. You like the hurt and you like being watched. You don’t want to admit that you find it hot to have someone more powerful ordering you around. You hate that deep down, deep inside yourself, you’re as depraved as I am. Is that why you’re divorced? Were you bored, darling wolf?”

It was entertaining to see how she collected herself and purposely didn’t rise to his goading. She was a fast learner, but he’d anticipated she would be. He liked being beaten at his own game. It only meant that he needed new rules, and god knew he’d enjoy coming up with them.

“In the weeks to come, you will do what I say, and I will command you to fill every tight, sweet hole you have.”

Her knuckles went white on the buckle again. She closed her hand around it and slid her fingers along the length of the leather like she’d enjoy throttling him with it.

He’d never been strangled before. He might like it.

He licked his lips and grinned ferally just in time for her to raise her eyes from beneath lowered lashes.

“Size matters, sweetheart. Have you ever taken a cock in your ass”

“Yes.”

“Liar. I can smell your terror.”

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