Page 16 of Regressive

10

Imogene

The final stingof the strap barely filters through the fog that has lowered over my brain. The first jolt was severe, a sensation I’ve never experienced. I felt like my skin had been cracked open by a shock of lightening. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I fought a wave of nausea. I almost begged him to stop.

Almost.

I asked for this. Wanted it, and despite the fact that my backside became numb after the fifth slap of leather, the warm familiar spread of heat built in my stomach, desperate and hungry. Levi is diligent with his Correction. The strikes coming in a consistent measure. He throws his whole body into it, and I feel the force all the way down to my toes. My body surges forward with each hit, knees shaking, until I’m nearly flat on the table, unable to move.

I take it, knowing I deserve it, but there’s a tingle under my skin because what I truly want comes next. I wait for the escalation, the heavy breathing, the touch of his hands between my legs, the sound of Levi’s zipper lowering, and the final rush of transcendent euphoria.

It never comes and neither, to my surprise, does he.

I glance over my shoulder and see Levi’s sweaty, pinched, face. He looks disgusted. With me? With himself? As I struggle to an upright position he walks toward the door. “You’re leaving?” I ask, feeling more exposed than during my Correction. I grip the table with one hand and squeeze my thighs together in a futile attempt to quell the urges.

“We’re done here.” He shifts with discomfort, the bulge of his erection obvious. “Clean up and leave when you’ve composed yourself.”

My brain is still a fog, caught up in the blistering numbness of my backside and the ache between my legs and I watch as he exits. The door shutting with a click behind him.

I don’t know if I should be angry or hurt. Maybe neither? What I know is that I’m flustered and in pain. Throbbing, inside and out. I do know that if he’s left the room, then so should I.

I lower my skirt and smooth the wrinkled fabric with shaking hands. My panties, which were on the table, are gone now. That makes two pairs Levi has taken. I can’t help but wonder what he does with them.

When I get myself to point of control, I take a hesitant step outside. The summer sky is bright, the birds are flittering in the nearby trees. Things are normal out here, the direct opposite of the room I just left. My skin feels raw and my senses are still numb, I’m distracted—deep in my thoughts—when a figure steps in my path.

“Oh." I blink. “Elon? What are you—”

There’s no reason to finish the question. I know why he’s here and he knows why I’m here.

“Do you need something?” I ask. “I was just on my way—"

“No, Little Lamb, I don’t need anything,” his eyes skim my body, like he can see through the fabric of my dress, “but I think you do.”

“Excuse me?” I look around. This is not a topic for a public area. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He grabs my hand. “You’re shaking.”

“Because I shouldn’t be seen with a man that isn’t my betrothed.” I try to twist away from him, but his grip is firm. “Let me go before we both get in trouble.”

“Why? The more trouble you get in, the more Corrections you can have. Isn’t that what you want?”

His presence is powerful and intimidating, but his knowledge is worse. It’s wrong for me to push back and question him, but my heart is still racing from the emotional and physical overload of the Correction, and I’m not sure I can handle this. Not now. Not with him.

“I want what I always want—to seek Enlightenment. To squash indulgence. To do better.”

“I think you want something else, Imogene.” My real name coming off his tongue feels even more threatening—more intimate. His hand runs down my back. I brace myself and when he touches my raw backside, I hiss. He bends down and whispers in my ear, “A little sore?”

“I’m fine.” In a fast movement he grabs me under the legs and picks me up. “What are you doing! What if someone sees!”

“No one will see,” he assures me.

A six-foot-four man, carrying another man’s future mate around Serendee like a bag of flour. Someonewillnotice. I fight against him, but it’s useless. My energy is zapped, my backside screams in pain, and he’s just too big.

“Are you taking me to Silas again?” I ask, hopefully.

“No, his salves won’t fix this.” He turns back to the door and props me against his knee while he presses the code into the door. The lock unlatches, and he steps inside where he drops me in front of the table I’d just been bending over. The strap lies where Levi left it. He stares at it for long moment and then says, “I’m here to finish what Levi started.”

My heart leaps from my chest to my throat. “You’re going to punish me more?”

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