Page 45 of Bloody Vows
I should be angry.Furious. I fight to find that hatred, that rage that burned through me yesterday, and I feel it coiling through me, the thought beating through my mind that I’m going to find a way to make Tristan pay for this.
But under the burning heat from the strokes of the belt, my body is throbbing with the need for him to touch me. To fuck me. To give me another orgasm.
“You’re taking it so well,célie,” Tristan growls. “See how easy it is to obey? Good wives are rewarded, Simone. You could be getting fucked right now instead of punished?—”
The belt comes down again, thecrackmingling with the sound of his hand moving feverishly over his cock, and I can hear his breathing quicken. “I’m going to paint this pretty ass with my cum,” he growls. “Five more strokes, Simone, and then I’m going to remind you who you belong to.”
“I thought I was already supposed to know,” I snap back, and before I can draw another breath, the belt smacks hard between my thighs, right against my swollen pussy.
I cry out. I can’t help it. The sensation is sharp and unexpected, pain jolting up to my abdomen, but with it is a sharp sting of pleasure that makes my back arch. Tristan chuckles, stepping forward as I feel his cockhead press against my folds.
He drags himself back and forth, and I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning. “So fucking wet,” he growls. “Disobey me again, and I’ll spank this pretty pussy until it’s red and swollen,célie.”
Tristan steps back, and this time, the belt comes down on my ass again. I’m breathing hard now too, my muscles rigid, but I can’t stop myself from glancing over my shoulder at him, taking in the sight looming behind me.
He’s in his suit, fully dressed, only his zipper down and his cock standing stiffly out, his hand stroking it roughly as he holds the folded leather belt in his other. Desire ripples down my spine as he brings it down hard again, the sight of him: jaw clenched, muscles tight, cock throbbing arousing me to the point that I feel dizzy from it.
Or maybe it’s just the fact that my ass feels like it’s on fire.
At the fifth stroke, he drops the belt, his hand shooting out to grip the side of my hip as he groans. His jaw clenches, the muscle there leaping as I see his cockhead flare and the first hot spurt of his cum arc across my skin as he starts to come.
“Fuck, Simone—” he growls my name, his cum jetting over my ass and lower back, so much of it. I had no idea a man could come so hard or so much. It drips down my sides, over my ass, painting my skin as Tristan strokes himself through his orgasm, and I feel like I could faint from how badly I need that same release.
My entire body is screaming for it, and I wonder how long I can hold out before I’ll beg him for it. Or—before I’ll give in and disobey, and get the punishment he’s promised for touching myself.
He’s breathing hard when the last drops spill onto my skin, his hand stroking down his length once more before he tucks himself away. He reaches up, tugging my skirt down over my bare ass, and my cheeks flame as I feel the fabric stick to my skin.
“You’ll come down to dinner tonight just like this,” he instructs me. “You can change your dress, but no panties. I’ll check,” he adds, a satisfied smirk on his face. “And you won’t clean up until tomorrow morning. Let this be a reminder to you?—”
“That I should be in your office tomorrow?” I snap, hating how breathless I sound. Tristan smiles.
“No. I’m leaving on a work trip in the morning.” That startles me and I blink at him as I straighten, ignoring the burning in my ass as I look at my husband.
“What?”
“I’m leaving on a business trip to Vegas.” He picks up his belt, sliding it as casually through the loops as if he wasn’t just spanking me with that same leather. “I’ll be gone for a few days. There will be heavy security on the estate. If you go anywhere, you’ll take the security team thatIassigned you. And Simone?” He steps forward, his fingers touching the edge of my jaw. “Don’t you dare touch yourself while I’m gone. I want that pussy needy when I return. You have all that time to think about how you’ll please your husband when he comes home, and earn my cock again. If you convince me you’ve been a good girl, maybe I’ll fuck you the way you need.”
I smack his hand away. “I don’t need anything from you, Tristan.”
He chuckles. “I think you need a lot,célie. I think it’s taking everything in you not to bend over and beg me to fuck you right now.”
I glare at him, my lips pressed tightly together, refusing to say a word. Tristan takes a step back, as if it doesn’t matter at all to him, and straightens his jacket.
“Think about what’s happened the last two days while I’m gone, Simone. I think you're starting to understand what kind of man you married. At least, I hope so. Think about what that means, and how you should behave when I come back."
I want to deny it, want to tell him he's wrong, but the words won't come. Because he's right. I am starting to understand. He's not the kind of man who takes no for an answer. He's not the kind of man who will let me hide behind walls of defiance and anger. He wants to possess me, completely and utterly,and the most terrifying part is how much my body craves that possession.
"I hate you," I whisper, and I wish, more than anything, that I could make that change how he makes me feel.
"No, you don't." He leans down, his lips brushing against my forehead in a gesture that's almost tender. "You hate that you want me. There's a difference."
That sticks with me, all throughout the rest of the day. Through pacing my room, and changing for dinner, and Tristan meeting me at the door, his fingers grabbing my chin and holding me in place as his hand slides under my dress to check that I’ve obeyed, and that I’m not wearing panties. It sticks with me as I feel his middle finger dip between my folds. I see his satisfied smirk when he feels the dampness there, and as he steps back, watching me with that arrogant satisfaction on his face as I walk to my chair.
He’ll be gone tomorrow, I remind myself. Days without him, days to think about what I’m going to do, how I’m going to fix this disaster of a marriage that I’ve shackled myself to.
Because if there’s one thing that I know for sure, it’s that there’s no way I can bear a lifetime married to Tristan O’Malley.
Not when he makes me feel like this.
