Page 20 of Vows in Sin
The overwhelming sense of failure threatens to overwhelm me. I need him to make me feel something, anything, other than this.
I’ll take my chances.
An Uber ride later, I’m here again, the club looming like temptation. The faint sound of the bass calls to me like a siren. This time, I skip the line at the front. I slip around back, the heels of my ‘eff me’ boots hitting the alleyway, heart pounding twice as hard as last time.
Thumping as hard as the bass drums on the dance floor, as hard as Miss Fifi’s cane on the apartment floor, because tonight?—
I know he’ll catch me.
That’s kinda the point.
I want to see if he keeps his promise.
I want him to punish me. I want his belt. I need him to rid me of everything other than his touch.
It’s a risk. Coming back here. But I need him.
No matter how much danger I’m stepping into.
8
Seraphina
The door is slightly ajar, with the gentle glow of the storeroom light shining through. It’s propped open by a lone brick, inviting me inside. Did he leave it that way on purpose? Not for a trap. But for me?
The night has a fragmented feel to it, like I’m glimpsing myself in snippets of a film. I take quick, shallow steps that match my quickening breaths as I head toward the door.
Like he owes me this, like it’s his fault he’s made me need him this way. Tonight I no longer hide in the shadows.
I walk right over the threshold.
The storeroom is to my left. The office to my right. I move straight ahead. Heels clicking over concrete. The sound is short, crisp, like his palm cracking against my ass.
I make it five steps before the door slams shut behind me. I stand, frozen. The dim light from the alleyway is gone. It’s dark.
“You really don’t learn,” comes that voice.
It’s lower tonight. Rougher. Like my boots over the gravel.
I don’t turn around.
I say nothing. My throat is tight. That’s not why I don’t speak.
I want him to lead me in every way.
That’s what I’m here for. His control.
He closes the distance in two steps. I feel him at my back. I try not to tremble.
His heat, his presence—massive, controlled, dangerous.
My skirt’s short. I wore it for him. No panties this time. I want to make it easy for him.
I want to see if he’ll do as he said.
“Pretty little lonely doll,” he says. “What happened, sweetheart?” he breathes against my ear, his beard tickling the skin at the nape of my neck. “You think my belt is the only thing that will make you feel the way you want to feel?”
My knees are already weak. His reading my mind makes them turn to absolute jelly. I’m shaken, and so is my trembling voice as I whisper, “How did you know?”
