Page 42 of Sin & Sapphire

“Perfect obedience, princess,” he said.

I sneered, even as my stomach dropped with fear. “Go fuck yourself.”

My stomach growled, ruining my defiance.

Valentin waited, and when I didn’t speak, he stood. “On your hands and knees, Ana.”

Somehow, it was scarier when he used my name.

I didn’t move.

Four hands reached out and maneuvered me, my knees still on the pillow, but now with my ass up and bared to them. I trembled with humiliation and fear.

“Count to ten,” Valentin said softly, following his words with a sharpcrack!to my ass.

I jerked away, only for him to drag me back. I couldn’t go far, not with my wrist flush against the table leg. Fingers tangled in my hair, caressing my scalp, and I wanted to cry at the comfort offered, only for it to be interrupted by more agony when Valentin spanked me again. Heat spread over my ass, the impacts turning into a delicious burn, punctuated by agony.

“I said count, Ana.”

No. This was fucking ridiculous. Why had I thought for even a moment I might enjoy this?

“Get your hands off of me,” I snapped.

Valentin responded by spanking me again, while Angelo gently stroked my hair. The combination of pain and comfort overwhelmed me, and a sob burst out of my chest before I could stop it. Why couldn’t I disassociate like I always had before, when my father beat me? Why was I so fucked up?

“That’s my girl,” Angelo murmured as he slid his thumb over my temple, gently caressing my skin. “Let it out.”

I jerked my head away from him, only for him to tangle his fingers in my hair and yank me back into place.

A tear fell.

And then another.

And Valentin’s blows continued. “Your punishment doesn’t start until you begin to count,” he said, his voice low and dark, cutting through my confusion even as I burned with agony, each spank as painful for my psyche as it was for my skin.

When I couldn’t stop the tide of tears, I knew I had to end this before they discovered how weak I really was, how broken, how desperately I loved Angelo’s soothing touch on my face. How comforting their attention was, even as Valentin hurt me.

“One,” I whispered.

“That’s my good girl,” Angelo said, his voice warm with pride.

“Two.”

I counted, each breath shuddering as I fought to hold back the sobs that threatened to burst out of me. My father had beat me harder, done worse, so why did this feel so different?

“Ten.”

I didn’t move, even though my arms trembled with exhaustion and all I wanted was to collapse onto the floor, humiliated, miserable, confused, hating the heat that gathered between my thighs, my clit throbbing in time with the agony of my burning skin.

“Up,” Valentin ordered, his voice gentler than before. When I didn’t move, he gently pulled the cushion forward, moving my knees toward my hands, then lifted the wrist attached to the table until I had to sit back on my haunches.

I winced, pain lancing through me as my ass brushed against my calves.

“Attention,”he murmured. Careful.

Angelo tilted my face up toward him, stroking a finger over my cheek as if I were precious to him. “Say thank you to yourmaître, angel.”

My mind warped back to Grégoire, how he’d drugged me so he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to me, how he’d blamed me for being so hot, for teasing him, when all I wanted was to survive the summer and return to Yorkfield, the feeling of his cock driving into me while I was unable to move, unable to protest, unable to do anything but close my eyes and lock my soul deep inside where he couldn’t get to it.

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