Page 31 of The More I Hate

I cradled myself, arms wrapping around my chest. I had never felt so vulnerable before in my life. I refused to meet his gaze. I couldn’t.

“Do you like the way this feels?” His slid his hand down my body, brushing my arms aside and palmed one of my breasts.

“No.”

“Do you like the way I’m touching you?” He slid his hand lower, between my legs.

“No, I do not.” But I was lying, and if he felt the wetness forming on my pussy, he’d know the answer for himself.

“Where’s my brave and defiant bride now?” He leaned in and inhaled deeply. “I can smell the fear on you.”

He pulled back just enough for me to see a spark of mischief glimmer in his eyes, and a wicked smile form on his face. “Good. Because you should be very afraid of what I’m about to do to you, and just how much you are going to enjoy it.”

As I clung to the remnants of my modesty, he reached for his buckle, unfastened his belt, and swooped it free from the loops.

“Time for your punishment, darling. Bend over.”

My eyes widened at the command, and I began to tremble. I tried to fight it, but I couldn’t. “Naughty girls get punished in this marriage. Best you learn that now.” He gave me another smile, his belt still clenched in his fist. “But I promise to kiss it all better at the end.”

I couldn’t tell if he was taunting me or making a delicious promise. Either way, I couldn’t move. My body remained frozen in place.

Then, with a firm tug, he yanked me by my arm and pulled me over to my vanity. With a sweep of his arm, he sent the small bottles of perfume and makeup brushes scattering to the carpet.

I tried to keep my feet, but his strength overpowered mine.

He bent me over the table, and he pushed my face into the wood. The smell of freshly polished mahogany was strong and comforting but not nearly as comforting as the feel of his hands between my shoulder blades and his breath on the back of my neck.

“How long has it been since someone took you in hand and spanked this perfect ass of yours? Was I your first the other night?”

“N-never,” I stuttered. “Only you dared?—”

“Well, let’s make up for lost time, shall we?” He continued to caress my body. “I’m going to whip this ass of yours, and it’s going to hurt. It’s not going to be like before. I’m not going to stop after a few light swats.”

A few light swats—was that what he called my punishment from the other night?

Oh God, what did that mean for this punishment?

With one harsh, swift swoosh of the belt, I felt the sting of leather against flesh.

I cried out at the contact, but the vanity table muffled the sound.

Even so, I could hear him straighten and take a step back.

Two, three, four, five.

Each smack was harder than the last.

I tried to be silent, my head lifting but my jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth would shatter.

I didn’t want to give the man the pleasure of hearing my cries.

The pain was intense, but there was something else. Something deeper. Something dark and forbidden. Something I couldn’t name.

My head fell forward, and my vision blurred as hot, fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. I bit my lip, hoping to restrain the shrieks that threatened to escape from me.

When I thought the stinging would subside, he gave me another hard crack of the belt. I struggled for air as my lungs filled with cries of agony.

Maybe that soft touch on my backside was his hand? I was ready to feel a soothing caress.

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