Elsa
Marcello paces to the window and draws back the curtains. Oh, I didn’t know it was this late. There is a knock at the door and a decent comes in with a jug of freshly blended juice followed by another with a try of food. Marcello tells them to place them on a table in front of the sofas and they leave. Marcello goes ahead to pours some juice into the glass.
“Get out of that bed right now and have something to eat. I am not having your excuses tonight, so don’t act so victimized by the situation. You should know you are not the only one who is angry, Elsa. You tried to escape when I had warned you not to. What were you thinking, running around the streets in the dead of the night all by yourself? What if something had happened to you? Dio non lo voglia, Elsa! I wouldn’t be able to live if anything bad had happened to you,” he says. For a moment I want to believe him but the hatred I feel for him right now overshadows my stupidity.
“You can’t order me around, Marcello! I have a brain of my own and I don’t want to eat right now! I don’t want to eat even if it has to be in your house, ” I yell. His eyebrows narrow at me.
“I can and I will. You will come over here if you don’t want to do it between sobs when your ass is sore from my palms. Do not push me, Piccola Monella. You are already having a pending punishment for what you did,” he says, his voice somber. I look deep into his dark eyes, hoping beyond hope, I could stab him with my eyes.
“You better not be delaying me on purpose. I am going to spank you till you cry out for forgiveness and you will not enjoy it in the least. The last thing that you should be planning to do right now is disobey me. I am not playing games tonight,” his jaw-tight end, his rough cheek muscles working though he is standing there straight glaring at me and looking too hot to believe at such a terrible time.
Despite my very strong urge to disobey him, my stomach grumbles at the aroma of the food when he opens the dishes. Fuck him!
I slowly push the bedding away and take my time to get to where he is just to show him I won’t jump to his call. He just ignores my brattiness.
I walk past him and sit on the sofa, grab the glass of juice, and drain it down my throat. Dio, it tastes so good. What was I thinking denying myself food? Well, I was too traumatized to even feel hungry. Marcello looks down at me with unmasked amusement.
“Were you waiting for me to come all the way from Rome to come and feed you, bella?” he asks, folding his hands in front of his chest, with a self-satisfied smirk.
I ignore him and dig into the food. Marcello settles down on the single-sitter sofa beside me and watches me instantly while I eat. I felt full after a few bites even though I felt I was hungry enough to devour all the good.
“I am done,” I say.
“Already? You haven’t even fished half the food you served on your plate,” he says, looking bewildered. “You haven’t eaten in days and that is all you could eat?”
“Give me a break, Marcello. You should know by now my eating habits. At least I have eaten something. Why is this such a matter of concern to you?” I find myself squabbling. I roll my eyes at him. I realize that is a big mistake when his nostrils flare with fury.
“Elsa, I think you want to test my palm tonight and I am willing to administer the treatment you need to stop being bratty,” he says, his voice deadpan. The hairs at the back of my neck rise in awareness. But I am too proud to apologize. I haven’t done anything wrong. I have the right to roll my eyes. He is not God! Fuck him.
As he keeps facing me with those eyes, my defiance wilts bit by bit the longer I stare at him. Finally, I bite my lip. “I know you’re mad because I escaped, but you should be able to understand me, Marcello. I told you I won’t stop trying to run away from here. I am sure I will try again even when you punish me.”
I don’t think that helps.
He remains silent as if trying to get a grip on his temper.
“I am sorry, okay,” I blurt out of fear.
He drags in a breath. “Are you sorry? I know you don’t mean it .”
“I just said I was.”
Lines formed between his brows as he slams them together.
“If you are sorry-truly sorry-you will go, lay on the bed with your ass in the air and wait for me.”
“Marcello-”
“This is your only chance to prove it, Elsa. Because if you are truly sorry, that will lessen your punishment. Allora, are you truly sorry?”
The thick column of his throat works as he swallows. Fuck he looks so dangerous!
“Yes, I am truly sorry.” Now I am sincerely speaking.
“Then you know what to do, no?”
* * *
I get up from the sofa and walk to the bed like a prisoner going to the gallows. Marcello is livid. In fact, I think he might be angrier than the night he killed that man in the Dungeon. He looks like he wants to strangle me. All I had to do was roll my eyes to awaken all the anger he had three days ago when he found out I had run away in the middle of the night when he was out of town.
Fear slides down my spine, causing my skin to break out in a cold sweat.
Will he hurt me?
No, he wouldn’t. I know it in my bones. He might spank me, but we would both enjoy that. No doubt he will tease me until I admit I am really sorry. I just need to comply with whatever orders he gives to prove my apology and then he will forgive me. Hopefully that involves some naked time.
“Get that shirt off first,” his voice booms from behind me, I almost jump. Shit! I am so scared.
I pull off the shirt I have on without waiting for him to say it again. Luckily enough, I have a decent bra and panties underneath.
I slide onto the mattress and fold my legs under my hips, shoving my ass in the air. I can feel his eyes boring through my skin.
I wait there for a long time, what feels like hours. My legs start to cramp and I think about moving to shake them out, but then I hear his footsteps. I hold my breath.