Page 50 of Vienna Bliss

He pushed to his feet and pulled his belt from the loops of his pants.

“You won’t tell him about this.” Absolon put the buckle in his hand, and then wrapped the leather of the belt once around his palm. “Because you know, deep inside, that he won’t believe you. I matter more to him. I’m his curator, an educated man who helps him. You are the woman who caused him pain and strife. A woman he intends to auction off in just a few days.”

Alena couldn’t look away from his belt. He hadn’t doubled it over, he was going to use the whole length, which would turn it into a whip. She kept her non-cuffed hand on her throat, tapping the pearl collar.

Absolon face twisted. “I just want to know what it feels like.”

Alena whimpered and scooted back, towards the fireplace.

Absolon watched her almost sadly, then seemed to gather himself. “I won’t remove your clothes. That wouldn’t be respectful to Alexander. Now, stand up, and bend over.”

Alena shook her head, and tried to talk. The sounds were nonsense, so she pointed from the belt to her collar and shook her head.

“I want to know!” Absolon swung his arm. The belt slashed through the air, wrapping around her forearms, which she’d raised to protect her face and head. The tip wrapped, cracking against her skin with a burn that made bile rise in her throat. Anyone who let the tip of a whip wrap at a club would immediately be thrown out. The speed the tip of a long tail whip could reach was fast enough to open flesh like a knife, or burn it.

The belt was wide and flat, which saved her somewhat, but it hurt more than anything she’d ever had before. Hurt more than even Alexander’s cruelest blows.

Those had been consensual, even when she’d been his “slave” in Moldova, the bargain had kept it in the mental realm of consensual.

Alena looked up at Absolon, and realized that the only way out of this situation was through it.

And the safest way through it was to play along. To obey.

Her stomach churned as she climbed to her feet, then slowly turned to face the mantle. She grabbed ahold of it, and bent at the waist. She stared at the spot on her forearm where a blood blister was forming. She focused on it as the first lash fell on her ass. He had no idea what he was doing; two and a half feet of leather was enough for even an imbecile to do some damage. Her thick silk skirt provided precious little protection, especially since he was hitting the wrong place, the top of her ass, almost to the point of being her lower back, rather than the fat-protected cheeks of her butt.

He got to twenty, and the pain was starting to make her feel lightheaded. She dropped her head, letting it hang between her arms, and whimpered as she swallowed back the bile rising in her throat.

That was when he stopped, and she realized he’d been waiting for her to show signs of how much he’d hurt her.

Absolon was panting as he came up beside her. She flinched away, but he’d grabbed the loose cuff, and used it to pull her hand towards him. He was careful not to touch her skin as he undid the cuff.

“Thank you, Alena. I look forward to seeing you at the gala.” She heard him buckle his belt. “I only wish I could have you for my own.”

His footsteps receded, the door opened, then closed.

Alena reached back and yanked at the knot of the scarf. Her hands were shaking too much to get it loose, so she yanked it down, then pressed her fist to her mouth to stifle the sound of her shocked sob.

Some part of her couldn’t believe it had just happened.

The other part of her, a much louder part, had only one thought. Go find Alexander. She wanted his arms around her. Needed his touch.

She needed the man she loved to make her feel like she wasn’t worthless.

Alena composed herself before walking out of the parlor. She didn’t run, mostly because her aching knee wouldn’t let her, but she moved faster and faster with each stair she climbed.

She was shaking as she entered the code and opened the door, and nearly lost it when she realized he wasn’t there. Alena stumbled to the kitchen, found a pair of scissors and cut the damned scarf from around her neck. She misjudged, and managed to cut through one of the strands of pearls. They were individually knotted, so only two fat, gorgeous pearls fell to the floor, but the sight of them on the floor broke her heart.

Alena fumbled with the clasp, leaving the pearl choker on the counter and ran for the bathroom. Ripping off her clothes, she sank into the nearly scaling water and let herself cry the tears of anger, frustration, and fear that she’d been holding in.

Chapter 12

Alexander walked through his front door later than he’d planned. His unscheduled trip had necessitated canceling several things, and rather than allow them to linger he’d decided to take care of all outstanding issues today.

It had been difficult not to start asking questions and demanding answers about the hand carry program, who had the ability to authorize shipments without needing to go through the normal channels, or demanding dossiers on the offices on the eastern edge of the Black Sea. The fact that he couldn’t do what he’d wanted had made his temper short, which actually served him well as it ensured that the meetings went faster than they otherwise might have.

Alena wasn’t in the living room, so he headed for the hall, his imagination already at work, planning what he would do too, and with her.

A flash of color in the kitchen caught his eye. Alexander paused, then walked over and crouched to pick up bit of colorful fabric.