Giovanni
“You’re wearing out my patience.”
I step into the bedroom, note how the closet door is open, two shoe boxes having fallen over stopping it from shutting.
She matches each of my steps in the opposite direction, keeping distance between us. She’s flushed and out of breath and looks guilty as sin.
“Brian just lost his job.”
“I snuck out the back. It wasn’t his fault.”
I walk toward the closet and she backs away to the foot of the bed. I open the door, look down at the toppled boxes.
“Actions have consequences. As does incompetence.” I shove at a box. “What were you doing?”
“I needed something,” she starts, her voice different, forced.
I turn to look at her. “What did you need?” She looks guilty as sin.
Her eyes search mine momentarily before she shifts her gaze to a point beyond my shoulder.
“A book.”
“You keep your books in the closet?”
She wrings her hands.
I step to her.
She backs up again. “While I was here, I thought I’d get my yoga clothes.”
“Did I give you the impression I’m a complete idiot?”
Her back is to the wall by the time I reach her. She stares up at me, wide-eyed but mute.
“I’m going to give you one chance to tell me the truth because I know when you’re lying and you’re lying now, Sienna. I’ll tell you what. I’ll even go first and lay my cards on the table.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I know something bad happened to you at the Williams house. I mean I know it was Sean Williams and maybe his father too, although that part I’m not sure about. I know you went to see Ciara at the clinic before you agreed to my proposition and I think it’s all related. I think the man from the party last night, I think he’s somehow related, but I can’t put my finger on how. Not yet anyway.”
I watch her pale as I talk, watch the color drain slowly and completely from her face.
“So, I need you to tell me. I need you to tell me if I’m hot or cold and just what the hell is going on.”
“Just sex,” she says, eyes desperate for me to accept that. “We said-”
“I change my mind.”
“You can’t-”
“And I’ll be honest because one of us should be, it’s not wholly because whatever you’ve got going on is interfering with my time. I’ll help you, Sienna. I have the means to. But you have to trust me.”
Her eyes fill up with tears turning the pretty golden-brown into the palest, softest sand of a pristine beach.
She shifts her gaze downward. I think she’s considering her options, but when she looks up at me again, she’s closed off.
“Please leave it alone.”
“You’re in trouble.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not.”
I feel my anger growing. My anger at her stubbornness. At her unwillingness to trust me, even if on some level, I understand her hesitation.
“I will help you,” I hear myself say and wonder why it’s so important to me. Wonder why I give a fuck.
But I do.
Another shake of her head is her only response, though, and I make myself count to ten before I speak.
“All right. This is how you want to play it?”
She just stands there watching me, waiting to see what I’ll do, I guess.
“You broke a rule, Sienna. I told you, there will be consequences.”
“What consequences?”
I reach for my belt, undo it.
She licks her lips.
“Not that kind of consequences, sweetheart,” I say, and watch her eyes widen as I tug it from the loops and double it over in my hand, keeping the buckle in my palm.
With a flick of my wrist, I slap it against my thigh, feeling the sting of it.
The sound makes her jump.
“You have a choice. You tell me. Now. You come clean about everything. Or you don’t and you choose to lie down on the bed and you take the consequence.”
Tears are welling in her eyes and the first of them slips out. “Please. I can’t.”
“Can’t and won’t are two different things. Decide.”
She shakes her head no. “You said… we agreed. Just sex.”
“And we also agreed there would be consequences if you broke a rule, which you did. I’m giving you an out. I advise you to take it. You do not want me to whip your ass, Sienna.”
“You want something I won’t give. Something I never agreed to give!”
I shift my gaze to the belt in my hand, adjusting my grip. “Get on the bed. Face down.”
“Please don’t,” she pleads, her voice small as tears streak her face.
“Move. I want your ass bare.”
Her gaze falls to the belt in my hand, then returns to mine. “I’m sorry. I should have asked the driver to bring me.”
“We’re so far from that, sweetheart.” I gesture to the bed.
“You’ll make me, won’t you? You’re bigger than me. Stronger. It’s what men do, isn’t it?”
“Is that what happened? Did Williams make you? Did-”
“Stop!” She covers her ears as if that will stop her from hearing, then scoots to the side to try to slip toward the door, but I block her way.
“Goddamnit. Why do you make it so fucking hard?”
“Leave it alone. Leave me alone!”
“Either get on the bed or tell me the truth. Last time I’m asking.”
“Get away from me. I didn’t agree to this.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say, and the moment I do, she breaks into a sprint for the door.
I catch her by the arm and tug her backward into me. She bounces off my chest and lets out a scream when I toss her onto the bed. She tries to scramble away, but I grab her ankle, tug her down and trap her with my knee on her back. Without another word, I flip her skirt up and tug her panties down. I bring the belt down across her ass.
I don’t think she expects me to go through with it, but the moment the belt makes contact with her skin, it’s like the air in the room stands still for just the smallest fraction of a second before she registers the pain and lets out a scream.
I expect her to fight me and she does, at first.
She fights like a hellcat.
But then, after three more strokes, she lays there and takes it. Resigns herself to it, maybe, hands fisted, body tense. I still have to keep my knee on her back-she’s not that still-but I expect more of a fight from her. Hell, from anyone.
And I don’t take it easy on her. The more strokes I lay down, the less she fights, the more I know she’s in real trouble. What in hell could be so awful that she’d rather take a whipping than tell me?
But then the act itself takes over. That sound of leather on flesh, that look of her reddening ass as each stroke is met with a breathless scream as if the belt were forcing the air from her lungs.
Fuck, I know it’s wrong, but my cock is hard.
After two dozen, she’s got her face buried in the blankets and she’s fisting handfuls of it sobbing so loud, I’m sure Axel, who’s waiting outside, can hear. Hell, the entire neighborhood must hear.
“Enough?” I ask her.
She won’t look at me, but she nods, and I hear her sniffle.
I move my knee from her back, adjust my dick because now is not the time. I watch her slide to her knees on the floor, hands first cupping her ass, then covering her face. She’s hiding herself from me as her shoulders shudder with her sobs.
I weave my belt through the loops of my pants and watch her, then crouch down, take her hands away from her face and make her look at me.
“Let me help you, Sienna. I want to help you.”
“Go to hell!” she yells, hands on my face, clawing me.
I grip her wrists, pry her off of me and hold her like that, watch her in her rage, in her pain. I want to shake her. To make her talk.
It takes everything I have to let her go. To stand. To look at her like this. Down on her knees, punished. Sobbing.
It takes everything I have to turn away.
And I’m about to go, to walk out, when there on the bed I see her bracelet. She hasn’t noticed it’s broken off yet and I don’t tell her. Instead, I take it and shove it into my pocket.
“Get yourself together. You have three minutes to be outside,” I say, and force myself to walk out that door.