Carmen
I heard him rustle with his clothes and knew that he’d left the room. I turned my head, staring at the envelope. Whatever had occurred when he was gone had disturbed him in several ways. I knew better than to ask what he was hiding or what he planned on doing. It just wasn’t my place.
Huffing, I concentrated on the sounds of the ocean, the sloshing waves just loud enough to allow me to relax, catch my breath.
Even as my curiosity continued.
There were so many questions to ask, so much information that I wanted to learn. One day, maybe he would trust me enough.
I heard his footsteps as he returned and closed my eyes, uncertain of what to expect.
“Truly a very bad girl. You’re disrespectful and mouthy,” he laughed softly as he ran his fingers down my spine, tapping my ass. Then he pressed my ass cheeks apart.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you something to think about tonight.”
I felt pressure, a hardened substance that made me cringe. He was using an ass plug. Oh, God. Every part of me tensed as he twisted the piece, forcing me to take several gulping breaths.
“Relax, sweet princess. This will remind you of your place.”
My place. I clenched my fists, trying desperately not to whimper like some misbehaving child. The pressure was intense, but my muscles yielded, opening up for him without hesitation. He slipped the plug inside inch by inch until I felt so full, another series of sensations rocketing through my body.
Holy fuck.
The pain morphed into something else entirely, still causing electricity to ripple through every cell and tendon.
“Very nice. That will remain inside until the morning.” Sebastian took my hand, helping me to sit as he stared down at me. “There’s one more thing. Come with me.”
I trailed behind him as he led me into the kitchen. He turned on the lights hanging over the island, his eyes never leaving me as he took a sip of his wine.
I watched him as he studied me, drinking me in as one would a prized possession. He rubbed his thumb across my cheek, his long fingers caressing my neck, using the leverage to pull me forward. As he crushed his mouth over mine, instantly parting my lips, the immediate taste of the rich red wine was far more intoxicating than I could imagine.
He held me close, savoring the moment of passion, allowing the kiss to become a wild roar between us. When he finally eased back, he rubbed his index finger through the single bead of wine that had slipped from my mouth, forcing the tip just inside.
“Thank you for saving food,” he said as he sighed and nodded toward the food. “An unexpected surprise.”
“I like giving surprises,” I whispered, giving him a mischievous grin. A moment of awkwardness settled between us. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone doing anything without a devious reason.
“Well, you should get some rest,” he said as he placed the glass on the counter, sliding open one of the drawers. “However, you do need to remember that for every misguided act, there will be consequences.”
The wooden spoon he brought into the light gave me pause.
“While I might not have food, I do have all the basic utensils that can be used for much more than cooking,” he added.
“You already spanked me.”
“For something else entirely.”
I realized at that moment that I would always be at his mercy, required to obey some form of rules. I’d grown up with far too many. Still, I was excited at the prospect, almost laughing at the realization. Maybe I’d hungered for a strong man in my life for years. Maybe I needed a firm hand, unforgiving to my bratty tendencies. I swallowed, swaying back and forth like some impetuous child.
His brow remained lifted as he pulled me over the edge of the counter, forcing me to inhale the various delicious scents. He eased hair from my face, stroking my cheek in such a loving manner, almost making me forget that his gentleness was more of an act. He pulled the platter out of the way, using just his index finger, pushing the tip against the small of my back.
“Consequences require punishment. Always.” His voice revealed another wave of coldness. Another change. Another layer.
I gripped the edges of the island, trying to avoid whimpering. The moment he twirled the spoon in the air, sliding the handle along the same track he’d used with his hand, I couldn’t hold back. The sound was like a pitiful cry, a moment of self-doubt fusing with the ugly acceptance that I would end up breaking his rules time and time again.
He wrapped his hand around my hair, keeping me in place, his wrist cracking as he smacked first one side then the other.
“Fuck!” The word slipped from my mouth, my grip becoming nail-biting firm as the anticipation rode every synapse in my brain. When he issued four more, one coming after the other, I slumped against the counter, taking several deep breaths.
“Once you learn to obey me, the world will open up to you,” he said almost casually, as if I had every intent of behaving.
He smacked me several times until the heat buildup was intense, the pain almost blinding. Who knew that a wooden spoon could inflict so much anguish?
A nervous laugh bubbled to the surface, the fight to hold it back adding instant pressure to my already aching head. As he continued the spanking, the hard smacking sound almost as bad as the actual pain, I fell into a different state of mind, a quiet lull that I used in order to concentrate on learning my music.
I don’t know why the realization that I was doing the exact same mental exercises bothered me so much, but it did. Another round of anger and desperation filtered into my system, creating a wave of stress and anxiety. All the various premonitions I’d had since I was a little girl had dissipated, allowing me to live without their blasphemous revelations that usually came to me in my sleep.
Why now?
Why did I have such a foreboding feeling?
Why did I know that… someone was going to die?
The myriad ugly thoughts made me lash out, pushing back from the counter.
“Stay in position,” he commanded.
I yanked my head from side to side, struggling with him as various images flashed in my mind’s eyes. I couldn’t stop them. Ugly. Brutal.
Bloody.
They filtered into my mind in vivid color. I hadn’t realized that the savage and very guttural sound was coming from my throat until I managed to break free of his grasp, fighting to get away from the island.
“Carmen. What’s wrong?”
“Na-nothing.” I raced toward the coffee table, hurrying to grab my nightgown, knocking his jacket to the floor. My entire body was shaking as I bent down, my eye catching a smattering of photographs that had fallen from one of the pockets. As the pictures scattered across the beautiful hardwood, I was drawn to them, unable to stop my curiosity. I blinked several times in an attempt to focus, sucking in my breath when I was finally able to comprehend what I was seeing.
“Carmen, don’t. Leave those alone,” he commanded, quickly heading in my direction.
Even with only the light coming from the kitchen to illuminate the glossy photos, it was enough to allow me to realize the horror depicted on every one of them. I jerked one into my hand, trying to keep a rational mind. The photographs were horrible, the scenes of various murders unlike anything I’d seen before, either in real life or on television.
I was pulled into a vacuum, my mind unable to process the information completely.
But I knew several of the locations. That meant that… my father was… No. No! This couldn’t be true.
“Carmen. Don’t do that. I’m sorry you had to see these.”
“Don’t!” I snapped, yanking a handful of photos in my direction. I clamored backward, trying to keep from going completely numb. I had to know what my father truly was. I shifted from one picture to the other, barely cognizant that Sebastian had once again moved into a standing position. Oh. My. God.
My mind became a blur, the vivid splashes of crimson covering walls and verandas, kitchens and bedrooms. As I flipped through them one by one, I finally fell into an abyss.
Until one picture surfaced. “No. No, it can’t… be. It just…” Tears rushed to my eyes as the once sweet then bitter memories floated to the surface. A moment lost in time.
A boy who thought he loved me.
A series of vicious lies.
Then a disappearance.
Everything my father had told me had been a huge lie. I hadn’t been abandoned. I hadn’t been unloved. Oh. Oh!
Sebastian tipped his head, his eyes glassy, his expression cold.
This was more than just a warning, this was my reality and one I needed to embrace. I knew three things for certain.
One; the photographs were very real, woman and children murdered in their beds.
And two; I knew without a doubt that I could never spend another moment with my father.
Ever.
Again.
I gazed into Sebastian’s eyes, my hands shaking.
Finally, three…
That Sebastian, his family, and his tactics were entirely the same as what I’d experienced growing up.
Both monsters.
Both murderers.
But it wasn’t my life that was in danger. It was his.
Sebastian was going to die.