Page 18 of Taken By Him

“What are you doing?” I demand, standing at the doorway.

“Your father was supposed to send all of your things,” he says, looking annoyed.

“He did,” I tell him.

He looks back at the clothes but doesn’t make another comment. Did he think I was a prized possession that had been spoiled with baubles since childhood? He’d be sorely mistaken. Everything given was at risk of being taken. My father didn’t raise his hand to me, not once. He found more satisfaction in taking things away. He took away my toys as a child, kept me from my sister as punishment, and when there was nothing tangible to take anymore, he took away my freedom. Things and people can be taken away; it’s better not to have them in the first place.

“I’m glad you don’t have any more dresses like the one you were wearing the other night,” he comments, pulling a sun dress from the rod and looking it over.

“It was an old dress. It didn’t fit right. I don’t go out that often to need club clothes,” I explain, snatching my clothing from him and putting it back on the rack. “I don’t usually wear things like that.”

He studies me for a long minute. Like I’m not what he thought I was. Though how he could have any sort of opinion about me in the past few days is beyond me.

Though I have a damn good assessment of him.

“Good.” He steps closer to me, brushing my hair from my shoulders. “How is your ass today?”

His question throws me off balance. Before I can stop it, heat rushes to my cheeks, and I’m sure I’ve turned red right before his eyes.

“I’m not talking about that with you,” I say and leave him in the closet.

“Should I look for myself?” he asks, right on my heels.

Spinning around to face him, I bump into his chest. With a rumble of laughter from his chest, he catches me and puts me at an arm’s length away. I hate how easily he handles me. How much my skin tingles with excitement when he lets go. I felt nothing when other men have touched me, but this man brushes against me, and I feel like a firecracker ready to go off.

He grins. “Maybe I should.”

“I’m fine,” I answer quickly.

“No. I think I should check.” He tilts his head, like this is a dare. Do I obey him, or do I fight him? He stands a full head taller than me, and his muscular build suggests he could benchpress two of me without breaking a sweat. I’d never win in a physical fight with him.

“I already answered you,” I say.

“Are you afraid if I look, if I touch you again, you’ll get as excited as you were last night?”

“I’m not afraid of you.” I stalk across the room and check my phone. There’s enough of a charge I can shoot out a text message.

“Maybe not.” He’s behind me as I start typing. His hands rest on my shoulders, and he presses his chest into my back. If he’s trying to scare me, it’s not working. I should be afraid. All common sense points in that direction, but I can’t summon the fear. Maybe I’ve finally lost all sense and simply don’t care how I meet my end.

“You may not be afraid of me, but you’re definitely scared of your reaction to me.” He brushes his lips across the shell of my ear. I freeze, my thumbs hover over the touchscreen of my phone.

“I need to call my friend. She might be worried since I didn’t answer her the other night,” I say, letting all the bitterness saturate my words. He deserves them. He’s earned it.

“Have you been spanked before last night? And I mean a real spanking, not a little tap from your father’s hand as a child.” He lets go of my shoulders and moves to the window, briefly looking down at the yard below before bringing his attention back on me.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” I close my eyes, willing him to leave. It wasn’t enough to humiliate me last night; he wants to relive the embarrassment. I won’t play along with his games.

“It’s a question, Kasia. How did your father punish you, as a child, as a teenager, as the woman you are now? Tell me.” He presses the issue. He’s like a dog with a bone; he’s not letting go.

I text Trina that I’m fine, I’ll call her later, and drop the phone back to the table.

“He didn’t hit me. No one has ever done what you did last night.” I stand straighter. I won’t show weakness now. “And I won’t allow you to ever do it again.”

“Allow?” He laughs on the word. “That’s not the way this works, and you know it.”

He’s right. I do know. I’m to obey. Do as I’m told. I live in the modern age, but my life is stuck in the traditions of the past.

“Now answer me.”

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