Page 9 of Vow of Vengeance

“I think you meant to say ‘Yes, sir.’”

I can hear the pleasure in his voice. Why do I get the feeling this man is going to enjoy making me feel shame? I should fight him.

But the belt.

I force myself to utter the humiliating phrase of surrender. “Yes, sir.”

“There’s a good girl.”

I moan at his dastardly pet name.

He lets me up.

I stand before him, my face hot with shame, my stomach knotted with anxiety. His face is stern, like what I imagine a father’s would be. Did I really just think that? What is wrong with me?

Gross, Ophelia.Now is NOT the time for your daddy issues to come out and play.

I look away.

Clasping my hands before me, I shift my weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Um…”

“Look at me.” His eyes cut to mine, demanding obedience. “Do as I say.”

“Now?” I ask.

He nods. “Right now.”

I close my eyes, blocking him out of my vision, but I can still feel him watching me as I grab the hem of my shirt. Cool air rushes over my naked skin as I pull the shirt over my head. I hold the clothing in front of my breasts, attempting to hide them, but my nipples tighten under his stare, betraying me.

His hand brushes against mine, making my eyes snap open. Gently, he takes the shirt from my hand, leaving me fully topless.

“Now, the pants,” he demands.

The bottoms are even more challenging to lose. My fingers tremble under his heated stare as I grip the waistband. I tug them down over my hips, letting them slide to my ankles, and step out of them. Now fully naked, cold night air caresses my skin, goosebumps rising, and my nipples grow even harder under his studious gaze.

I want to hide my body with my hands, but as I go to, he’s pulling me over his lap with a growl, and I’m back in that humiliating position, only now naked with the feel of his clothing, the heat of his figure, against my exposed skin. My upper body rests on the bed. He leaves my arms free.

“Such a beautiful form. I’ve never seen anything so exquisite in my life.”

My stomach flutters at his compliments. I’m not beautiful—far from it. But now, he’s stroking me with his confident, rough fingers.

“You’re gorgeous.” His voice grows low and husky while observing my bare form over his parted thighs. “Gorgeous.”

Holding back a moan, I grab the quilt, pulling it loose from the corner I securely tucked it into this morning. I’m so exposed and need the comfort of something familiar as I grip the soft cotton between my fingers.

And wait for my punishment.

CHAPTER 4

Haze

I’ve crossedmany lines I didn’t think possible, but I never thought I’d be robbing the cradle. I’ve left that to the other brothers and players, looking to have my needs met by women my age.

The truth is—I’m a liar. And a terrible one at that. I didn’t take Ophelia because it was the best way to get my revenge against her mother, Leah. I took Ophelia because one day, when I was driving by their apartment and checking out the place where my nemesis lives, I saw her.

She was standing there on the corner of the street, throwing away a bag of trash, of all things. Her hair was tied back from her makeup-free face. She wore an apron and long, blue cleaning gloves. She tossed the trash in the can and closed the lid. Then, she carefully peeled off the gloves, stowing them in the pocket of her apron—like a woman much older than eighteen—before marching back into her place.

She was beautiful, stunning, and breathtaking in her bare-bones beauty. True. But there was something more, something deeper that made me want her in a way I’ve not wanted anything before.

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