Page 46 of Twisted Embrace

“Well established. Hate me all you want if that helps you to learn.” I flipped her around to face the mirror, immediately reaching for my belt.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Providing you with a stern reminder. Maybe you’ll finally get it through your head that several hundred soldiers are combing the streets in search of you.” I wasn’t in the mood to waste any time, yanking my belt free only seconds later. I was surprised she didn’t attempt to talk her way out of her punishment.

She merely chewed on her lower lip, staring at me in the mirror, wincing only when I yanked down her new panties. But she closed her eyes completely when I rubbed her bottom, moving from one side to the other. She braced herself with her arms without being asked, even widening her legs as much as the confines of the thong would allow.

I folded the thick strap, trying to maintain concentration but the sight of her in the flaming color was almost too enticing to ignore. “When I’m finished, your ass is going to be the same color as your underwear.”

“You love hurting me, don’t you?”

I slid my hand between her legs, fingering her clit, her moan the sweetest sound in the world. “I also enjoy providing pleasure, Joy, but right now you only deserve the harsh reality of the life you made a deal to enter.” If she was determined to play a game with me then I had no issue updating the rules she would follow.

When I snapped my wrist, she sucked in her breath, the force I used pushing her onto her toes. She didn’t whimper, barely made any sound at all. I brought the belt across her buttocks two additional times, and she bent one leg at the knee, immediately returning her foot to the floor.

The reflection of her face ignited the dark desires deep within. I couldn’t care less about the hatred in her eyes or the twist of her luscious mouth. She was mine to punish.

Taste.

Fuck.

Use however I wanted.

Soon, a contract would be drawn up, her signature forced on the dotted line. A part of me was obviously warming to the thought of impending marriage.

I delivered four more, enjoying the sight of red stripes crossing her skin. When I rubbed my fingers across the heat, she sucked in her breath. Her teeth were clenched, her nostrils flared, and the scent of her femininity wafted into my nostrils.

“Bastard.”

“Yes, Joy. I am.” I gave her strike after strike until she finally whimpered.

“Are you okay in there?” a woman asked from the other side of the curtain. “Do you need me to call 9-1-1?”

Joy slanted her eyes in my direction, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. When she opened her mouth, I cocked my head, daring her with my eyes.

Then the curtain was pulled back, the woman peering in. Her expression was one of horror as she glanced from Joy’s reflection in the mirror to my face. “I’m sorry. I heard noise.”

“Just leave. I’ll be finished momentarily,” I told her and the clerk did so without hesitation.

“A little rough on her, weren’t you?”

I responded by cracking the belt against her bruised skin several more times, my rhythm almost perfectly succinct. She finally whimpered after I’d issued eight in a row, scratching her nails down the mirror as she panted.

“Four more. I doubt you’ll forget what I told you again. Will you, my bride to be?”

“No.” She laughed softly, her eyes now closed.

As I followed through with the promise made, my throbbing cock continued to press against my zipper. While the thought of fucking her here in the small space, the muted tan walls a representation of life in suburbia had crossed my mind, it was time to put my carnal needs aside.

When I was finished, she continued to watch me intently as I slipped the leather strap through the loops. I noticed her body was trembling as she gripped both her upper arms. “Get dressed.”

“Where to now? Disneyland?” After she slid into a stunning dress accentuating her rounded curves, she yanked a shirt from the pile of clothing. “Here. Put this on. If you don’t want to draw attention to us, then you need to change.”

I’d already tossed the tie into the trash. I had ten more just like it in my walk-in closet in Italy. I eyed the shirt then took it from her hand. Instead of backing off, she started unbuttoning the ruined piece of clothing, her actions as rough as mine had been. When she rolled my jacket and shirt over my shoulders at the same time, the move forced her breasts against my chest.

Joy ceased moving, a nervous tic appearing in the corner of her mouth caused by our closeness. “Did you hear anything about Lucia?”

The softness of her touch as well as her voice caught me off guard when it shouldn’t have. “Not from this morning. I didn’t ask.”

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