Page 44 of Bloody Vows
None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been forced to marry him.All of my anger is directed at Tristan, at his arrogance, at the fact that he’s taken over my life and doesn’t spare a thought for how that might make me feel.
I shower the moment I wake up, scrubbing him off of my skin, but it does nothing to erase the memory of the feeling that he left behind. I feel restless and agitated, and I pick at my breakfast, making excuses about it to Nora when she expresses concern. I go for a run, come back and work out until I’m breathless and sweaty and then shower again, but my chest feels like a fist is wrapped around it. I keep looking at the clock, counting down to two fifty-five, knowing I’m not going to go to his office.
It’s humiliating—all of it. How he forced me to bend over the bed, how he yanked my shorts down and exposed me, how he spanked me like I’m his disobedient property. How he came on me like an object for him to use.
And how I reacted to it is every bit as humiliating.
I could do it. I could go to his office, get on my knees, and do what he's asking. It would be easier than fighting him, easier than enduring another punishment. But the thought of submitting to him so completely, of letting him see how much power he has over me, makes my stomach churn.
No. I won't give him the satisfaction. I won't let him break me down like this.
At two fifty-five, I'm in the library on the third floor, as far from his office as I can get, pretending to read a book while my heart pounds in my chest. I wonder what will happen when he realizes I’m not coming, how long he’ll make me wait before he comes to collect on his promise.
It’s four-fifteen when I hear his footsteps, heavy and determined, coming down the hall. I try to focus on my book, try to look casual and unbothered, but when Tristan appears in the doorway, his expression dark with displeasure, I know I'm in trouble.
"Simone." His voice is deceptively calm. "Get up.”
I don't move from my chair. I don’t even look up at him. "I'm reading."
"Now."
I force myself to keep my eyes on the page, even as I hear him close the door and lock it behind him, walking toward me with determination. He stops just in front of me, and I will myself to keep reading, to pretend as if he isn’t even there.
"I told you to be in my office at two fifty-five," he says quietly.
"I heard you." I keep my eyes on the page. "I chose not to comply."
"I see." He lets out a slow breath. "Then you've chosen the alternative."
I drop the book onto my lap, looking up at him with a narrow glare. "Tristan, you can't keep doing this?—"
His jaw tightens. "I can do whatever I want, Simone. You're my wife. This is my house. And you're going to learn that I don't make idle threats."
Before I can protest further, he leans down, his hands grasping my upper arms as he pulls me up out of the chair before I can think to react. My book falls onto the wooden floor with athud, and Tristan spins me around effortlessly, his fingers curling around my wrists as he plants my hands on the back of the chair.
“Stay just like thatcélie,” he growls. “Don’t move, or it will be twenty strokes instead of fifteen on that pretty ass of yours.”
“You—” My voice comes out higher-pitched than I’d like, but Tristan isn’t waiting to hear what I have to say. He flips up the skirt of the dress I changed into, tucking it over the side of my hip as his fingers hook into the edge of my lace panties.
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Making this so accessible to me. I think you wanted me to spank you,célie. I think you were looking forward to me getting this sweet pussy wet again. But bad girls don’t get their husbands’ cocks inside of them.”He crumples my panties in his hand, tucking them into his pocket. “You made your choice. Now you get to live with the consequences."
His hand strokes the side of my ass. “Fifteen strokes.” His fingers glide down between my thighs, stroking my soft folds. When he dips between them, it’s all I can do not to suck in a breath. “You’re already a little wet for me,banphrionsa. You’ll be dripping by the time I’m done. Craving a good fuck from your husband. You want me to give you what you need, deep down. But you have to earn it.”
As he says the last three words, I hear his belt slither free of the loops. “Next time,célie,” he warns, “it’ll be a paddle.”
And then the leather comes down across my ass with a sharpcrack, and pain shoots up my spine.
I clench my teeth to try to keep from crying out, but this time, as the leather comes down again, a harsh slap against the still-tender skin of my ass.
The spanking yesterday hurt. This one is excruciating, retracing skin that’s still sore with every stroke. But as much as it hurts, as my fingers curl around the back of the chair and my knuckles turn white, I can feel that tingling growing between my thighs, arousal building as Tristan looms over me.
He pauses halfway through, taking a step back, and I swear I canfeelthe heat of his eyes between my legs.
"You're learning," he murmurs, and I can hear the satisfaction in his voice. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind hasn't caught up yet.”
The next slap lands without warning, harder than any from the night before, and I clench my teeth until they grind together to keep from crying out. I hear Tristan’s zipper slide down before the belt strikes again, and then his groan as I tilt my head enough to see him wrap his hand around his shaft.
A bolt of arousal shoots through me at the thought that he couldn’t wait. That spanking me aroused him so much that he had to touch himselfnow.
