Page 42 of Dance with Death

Is that a command?

A question?

I don’t speak fucking Italian!

I say the only thing I can think of that might appease him. “Si, Papà.”

He responds with a heated groan and pulls me backward, forcing me to sit on his lap. His erection presses into my ass from beneath his tented trousers.

“I’m going to punish you.” He kisses the back of my neck at the base of my spine using lips and tongue. “Does that scare you, little doll?”

My brain is screaming at him, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to say. I don’t know what he wants. I don’t know if he wants me to be scared or excited or some strange mixture of the two. I don’t know if he wants me to fucking crawl like a baby and suck my goddamn thumb.

What do you want from me?

He brings his lips to my ear over one of my pigtails. “You don’t need to be scared, little one.Papàonly punishes you to make you better. Get down on your hands and knees.”

I obey, more than happy to separate my ass from his erection. He adjusts my skirt to flip it all the way above my hips, ensuring all my private parts are on full view for him. It’s quiet for a few stressful breaths, but then his hand lands with a smack against my cheek. I rock forward on the impact, but quickly readjust, knowing more spanks are to come.

And they do come, one after another after another.

But it’s truly nothing for me, given all that I’ve been through. He hasn’t hit me all that hard and he stops rather quickly. I’m beginning to think Vigo might be survivable, but I know getting my hopes up too soon would be stupid.

“Tell mehow sorry you are.Beg for forgiveness.”

I swallow. “I’m so sorry,Papà.Please forgive me.”

“Is that how you beg? With your back to me?”

I stifle a sigh, pushing back to sit on my heels. I take a quick moment to brush my skirt back down to cover myself before turning to face him. I scoot toward him on my knees.

“I’m sorry,Papà.”

He grips my chin and tilts my head up, forcing our eyes to meet. “Beautiful little doll of mine, you know I don’t want to hurt you.”

I try to play his game to appease him, but I have to force the words out, stagnant and unfeeling. “I know,Papà.I’m sorry. I’ll be a good girl.”

God, how this nauseates me.

Vigo leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

He lingers with his mouth on mine.

I watch him warily with open eyes and I’m surprised that his remain open, too; he’s watching me just as carefully. There is a certain something in his uniquely honey-colored eyes that could easily set off a spark of attraction, a false feeling of trust with the allure of his good looks. He’s a beautiful predator designed by the devil himself to tempt his prey with his charming good looks.

Just as I was tempted away from the world I knew by Nikolai.

Fuck, I hate him!

I hate them both!

I finally realize he’s not holding me in place, so I yank my head back with force, angrily breaking the odd kiss that twisted a shameful pinch of lust in my belly.

Maybe I am just a whore like Nikolai says.

I don’t deserve Ezra’s love.

“Why don’t you go and play with your rabbit, sweet girl?”

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