How long had passed? Minutes? Hours? I had no way of knowing.
When I heard the cracking of the door, I bristled, keeping my face turned away from him, praying he'd merely untie me and leave me alone. I felt the shift in weight on the bed and held my breath.
Until his hot breath cascaded across my skin, igniting every ember I'd tried so desperately to bury inside.
A moan slipped past my lips before I could stop it, the embarrassment and shame of allowing him to know how unfathomably hot and wet I was.
Disgusting.
He remained in the darkness, the rough pads of his fingers moving up and down my naked body. I could feel goosebumps popping, further exposing my hunger. Even the wafting scent of my pussy juice was stronger than before.
Miguel was so quiet, reserved in his mannerisms as he trailed his fingers down my leg, tenderly touching my swollen ankle. "Are you certain it's not broken?"
"No. Just sprained."
"Well, we'll put more ice on it when we're finished."
"Finished?"
"With your punishment."
I bit back a rhetorical remark for only a few seconds. "Then fulfilling your needs? Are you going to fuck me?"
"Yes."
His answer was frank, without emotion. Was the man even capable of caring about anyone?
"Look at me, Valencia." I heard the click of a switch, the light merely adding to my concept of doom.
I chose to ignore him, digging my fingers into the comforter.
He tugged brutally, forcing my head in the opposite direction. "I told you to look. At. Me."
I couldn't get over the almost bizarre dichotomy of his emotions; sweet and sultry one minute, savage and unforgiving the next. "What do you want me to see? The armor covering every inch of you, suffocating in its heavy weight, crushing the real man inside?"
His eyes flashed just as they had the moment he'd shoved me into the elevator. He simply released his hold, running his fingers through my tangled strands before standing. Another tender moment, yet he forced me to watch as he unfastened his belt, taking his time with the thick buckle. He was lording his position over me.
And I hated him even more.
Yet I couldn't help but watch every second of the way he slowly pulled the thick leather from his belt loops or the almost serene expression he wore. He was in his element, oh-so powerful and dominating. I wanted to laugh, screaming at him that my father could handle the mannerisms in a much more practiced way, but the thought wasn't normal in any regard. So I kept my mouth shut, my fingers still wrapped around the thick material.
He folded the belt in half, running his long fingers over the dense grain, taking several deep breaths. "It gives me no pleasure to have to punish you. I do hope you know that."
No, I don't know that, you asshole.
How much I wanted to spout off the words, every syllable laced with venom. Perhaps he wanted me to say I was sorry once again, begging for his forgiveness. That wasn't going to happen. I buried my face in between the pillows, taking several deep breaths.
"Twenty tonight. I think that will be an excellent reminder of the very rules that will keep you alive."
I had no nasty retort. There was nothing I could say. This wasn't anything I wanted in my life. Facing the future was gut-wrenching, destroying all my hopes and dreams. My thoughts drifted to the spankings I'd received only weeks before and I was ashamed that the moment I did, my entire body erupted in desire. Every cell hummed with sizzling electricity, the anticipation making my mouth dry.
I heard the crack of his wrist, the whooshing sound as the belt was forced through the air. I simply held my breath, anticipating an explosion of pain rushing into every cell and muscle. And yes, I felt the hard smack against my ass, but the anticipated anguish was little more than a dull ache. Maybe I was dead inside, incapable of feeling anything any longer.
The sound occurred again, only this time, my captor issued two in a row, both hitting exactly across the middle of my bottom. My toes tingled, much the same as my pussy. Another flash of wet heat and embarrassment skittered into my system. Just an additional reminder of my wicked ways. Maybe I simply had to face the fact I was a bad little girl, wanton and nasty in every manner. Perhaps I deserved the harsh punishment for simply being alive.
He exhaled, the sound huskier than before and even from my position, I could feel his tension. "You're doing very well."
How the hell would he know?
The single crack was louder this time, the strap smashing against my sit spot. This time the pain erupted, blinding, curling my toes as I jerked up from the bedding.
"Oh! God!" I was shaking all over, blinking as tears were brought to my eyes. Why had it taken several strikes for my body to become alive, refusing to accept the punishment? I panted several times, shifting as he rubbed his fingers across my already heated bottom. I could only imagine I wouldn't be able to sit for a week.
Miguel smacked me again. And again. Then two more times, the rhythm so damn practiced that I knew he'd done this before. I heard his savage low growl, the sound permeating the air around me. He was enjoying this. He wanted me to suffer. How could he? I'd never done anything to him in my life.
When another volley came, I struggled with all my might, the clanging sound of the metal portion of the cuffs hitting the bed floating all around me. The ugly noise reminded me of some insane musical piece, heavy metal in design. I almost laughed, the concept so inappropriate that I groaned instead, doing everything I could to mask my extreme discomfort.
He didn't deserve to know how much this hurt or the fear that encapsulated every portion of me.
"Only a few more. You will learn that obeying the rules, my rules will improve your life." His every word drilled into my brain.
Improve? Who was he kidding? The whooshing sound caught me off guard once again, the next two strikes catching me on my upper thighs. "Fuck. Fuck!" Whimpering, I kicked out, turning and twisting my body, ready to beg for him to stop. I was unable to prevent the tears, my entire body shaking.
And so alive.
I realized at that very moment that I was still wet and hot, my nipples tight and hard, another wave of desire sweeping through me. How could this turn me on? How could I even fathom hungering for a man with no regard for life?
But I did.