Fighting Attraction
Page 42

 Sarah Castille

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    Hand trembling, she tugs her skirt up another inch, baring the soft, creamy skin of her thigh. With her lips pressed tight together, her eyes locked on mine, she is a reflection of the maelstrom of emotions storming through my body—fear and longing, anger and arousal, beauty and the beast.
    I drop my gaze, mouth watering in anticipation of the moment we both know is coming. When I saw the flicker of guilt, I knew she had broken her promise. And when I saw her need, I couldn’t walk away.
    Damn, she is tempting. I lick my lips, remembering her taste, her scent, her sweet arousal, the way she moaned when I touched her. Pink and pretty on the outside, tough and resilient on the inside. She is aroused now, her cheeks flushed, body trembling. Sex and pain. They may never have connected for her before, but they sure as hell have now.
    “Higher.” Awakened by her need, the Dominant in me demands obedience.
    Her cheeks flush and desire heats her eyes as she lifts her skirt. It pleases me. Not just because she accepts my dominance, but because it means I can give her what she needs and she won’t put up a fight.
    One more inch, and I see the edge of a bandage. I narrow my eyes, let her see my disapproval as I unbuckle my belt. My cock throbs painfully against my fly. I am hard. So fucking hard I can barely think straight. I grit my teeth. Force back my arousal. This is about her. My needs will have to wait.
    With one last tug, she bares her thigh, locks her challenging gaze on me. My stomach knots when I see the long white bandage. I did that. I pushed her over the edge. And now I have to fix my mistake. I yank my belt off and double it in my fist.
    “You broke your promise.”
    “What are you going to do about it?” Her trembling hands belie the defiance in her tone.
    “I’m going to hurt you, darlin’, so the next time you think about hurting yourself, you’ll remember to call me first.” I walk up to her, so close I can feel the heat of her body. “I want you facedown over the desk. Lift your skirt, and then reach up and hold on to the edge.”
    Her cheeks flush and she bites her lip, indecision clear on her face. I can almost hear the frantic beat of her heart, but I can sense her arousal, too. Part of me is almost tempted to take her in my arms and soothe her, feel her softness against me, but I closed myself off to those feelings long ago and shifted my focus to the darkness inside me. Her need aligns so perfectly with mine. I want to punish her. I need her pain.
    She stares up at me, an edge of uncertainty in her eyes, but courage too, passion, and desire.
    With a jagged breath, she turns and leans over the desk.
    Ah. Beautiful submission.
    She reaches back and flips up her skirt, baring her lovely ass for me. Her panties are white, lacy, three inches at the top and a string nestled between her plump cheeks. Pure. Innocent. Fitting for her punishment by my hand.
    A hand that shouldn’t be wearing the damn family ring. I slip it off and stuff it in my pocket, feeling at once unburdened and relieved.
    “Hold on.” I position myself behind her, wrap one hand around her neck to hold her still, and kick her legs apart. “Ten strikes with my belt for breaking your promise. Do you agree?”
    “Yes,” she whispers.
    “I want you to count them off. Do you remember your safe word?”
    “I can use a safe word?” She struggles to look back, and I hold her down.
    “You always have a safe word when you’re with me,” I assure her.
    I can feel the tension ease from her body as she lets out a breath. “Can I choose something else since we’re not at the club?”
    “Anything that means something to you, so it’s easy to remember.”
    Her trembling arouses me. Her fear, a balm for my soul.
    “Redemption,” she says. “It’s my…happy place. I know it’s stupid.”
    My stomach churns as guilt drips like acid inside me. She didn’t come to Redemption this week because of me. “It’s not stupid at all. It’s been a special place for me since the day I joined, when it was just the shell of a warehouse with a couple of mats and a few guys who had a dream.”
    A dream that came true for me. A dream that could easily die if anyone discovered my secret.
    I smooth my hand over Penny’s perfect ass and raise my arm to strike. “Ready?”
    “Yes.”
    My belt cracks across her ass, and she gasps, her body going rigid beneath my hand. A red line wells up on her perfect, creamy skin, and adrenaline floods through my veins, rushing straight for my cock.
    “One,” she chokes out.
    I crack my belt against her soft skin again, and she whimpers and arches her back. “Two.”
    The next three blows I do hard and fast, careful never to hit the same spot twice. Her muscles are rock hard beneath my palm, her knuckles white around the edge of the table.
    “Breathe through it, Pen. Breathe.” I give her a few seconds to catch her breath, and then I whip the belt along the sensitive tops of her thighs, first one, then the other. “This is the pain I want you to remember,” I tell her. “When you need release, this is the pain I want you to crave. Pain I will give you.”
    She sobs, her body shaking as she counts the blows. Sweat beads on my brow, trickles down my back. My body thrums with need, hunger, and pleasure. She is everything I have ever wanted and never imagined I could have. She is the flower I shouldn’t pick because I know I will destroy her.
    “Shh. Almost done.” I tighten my hand around her neck, assuring her that I am here, that I won’t let her go, but I won’t stop until the punishment is done. Her ass is red, hot, and streaked with the lines from my belt. Fiercely beautiful.
    I crack my belt across her ass three more times, giving her a moment between each blow. When the last one is done, I drop the belt and pull her up, turning her so I can cradle her in my arms.