Vesper wasn’t satisfied. She snapped the belt again, hitting the other cheek. The resulting whine was music to her fucking ears, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
“Get up,” Vesper snapped. She sat back and watched as Bellamy turned to her, confused, then stood.“Off.” Vesper gestured to Bellamy’s pants. Bel pulled them down, but held onto one pocket in particular. Vesper narrowed her eyes as Bel delicately stepped out of them. She raked her gaze over Bellamy’s body before deciding her next move.
She needed Bellamy to relax, to think she hadn’t noticed or cared about whatever the fuck she was hiding in her pocket. Vesper checked her watch, purposefully leaving Bellamy squirming. The scent of her arousal flooded her senses and clouded her judgement. They had thirty-five minutes before the trolley arrived at the station back home.
Setting an alarm, Vesper decided she’d give Bellamy thirty.
She took her time looking Bellamy up and down, studying the swirling dark lines peeking out from under her black shirt and running down her thighs. She hated how good Bellamy looked, how much the tattoos accentuated her curves, how submissive she knew Bel was about to be.
“Lie down,” Vesper ordered when she’d finished, nodding to the bench beside her. As soon as Bellamy was down, Vesper smacked the belt against her thigh. Bel wasn’t prepared this time and she yelped.
“Fuck,” she hissed, her fists clenched in an effort to keepstill. Bellamy might be a lot of things, but she wasn’t naive. She knew if she moved, it would only make things worse—and Bellamy had no idea how bad things were about to get. Vesper smiled sadistically—that was the reaction she’d wanted.
She hit Bellamy’s other thigh. This time Bel was ready. The pained cry didn’t come.
Vesper gritted her teeth. “Arms up,” she demanded, shoving one of Bel’s legs off the bench and spreading her wide. She positioned her own clothed thigh against Bellamy’s center. The rough fabric of her cargo pants rubbed against Bellamy, who immediately tried to grind into the sensations.
Vesper snapped the belt across her arm, and Bellamy sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t move,” she ordered, giving her a hard glare.
Bellamy swallowed, freezing in place. Vesper smirked and went to work restraining Bellamy. She tied her arms above her head with the belt, attaching it to the little railing at the end of the bench.
She tugged the belt until it was tight against Bellamy’s wrists. Then, she got up and snatched Bellamy’s pants off the floor.
“What’re you doing?” Bellamy asked, eyes growing wide. Vesper pulled a piece of paper out of the pocket. “Put that back, it's none of your business!” She struggled against her bindings, but they held. Vesper knew they would.
She ignored Bellamy as she read the paper. There were at least twenty names paired with numbers connected to companies from the Voreshi hub they’d just left. Vesper furrowed her brows.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Put it back,” Bellamy pleaded. Fear was written plain on her face. “I need it.”
Vesper crumpled the paper in her fist, her anger peaking. “Are you fucking kidding me,” she hissed. Her magic flared, burning its way through her veins and onto the paper, sparking until it caught fire.
“No!” Bellamy cried, watching in horror. Vesperthrew the burning parchment onto the trolley floor and stomped the fire out with her boot.
“You selfish piece of shit,” Vesper growled, advancing on Bellamy. She grabbed her throat and squeezed until she was sure there would be bruises, until Bellamy was gasping for breath. “How much are they paying you?”
“Ves, I—” Bellamy clamped her mouth shut. Vesper eased her hold, but Bellamy’s breathing was rapid and her lip quivered. She had the absolute audacity to look like she might cry. “Untie me.”
“Fuck you,” Vesper snapped, glaring at her. “You’re going to get us killed doing this shit. I don’t fucking care how deep in debt you are, do not risk my life for your bullshit again.”
If their employers found out Bellamy was selling evidence, stealing it off the bodies of their targets for the highest bidder… Fuck, they’d both be dead.
Vesper didn’t think it was possible to hate Bellamy any more than in this moment. Then, Bellamy’s gaze hardened. The scared panicked look she’d given Vesper before glazed over and was replaced with anger.
“No, fuck you! You have no fucking right to go through my shit!”
Vesper shook her head in disbelief. “You’re not even the least bit sorry, are you?” She’d known Bellamy didn’t care about her, but she didn’t think Bellamy cared so little that she’d put both of their lives at risk for a quick payoff.
Rage burned through her, but so did pain. It was that little prick of loss, of abandonment that she thought she’d quashed years ago. Every time Bellamy had a chance to do something good, something to help them, she chose to hurt them. Every. Single. Time.
Vesper hated Bellamy. She hated her so fucking much.
Bellamy laughed a cruel, hollow sound. “Why don’t you make me wish I was sorry.”
What Vesper hated most in that moment was that she was still going to do exactly what Bellamy wanted. She could carry all thispain, this anger, this knowledge that everything was a game to Bellamy, and she would still lose—still play right into her hand. She hated that she still wanted her.
She grabbed Bellamy’s throat again, squeezing hard. She leaned in close. “I’m gonna make you wish you’d never fucking said that.” Vesper released her throat and pushed Bellamy’s shirt up until it bunched under her arms. She dragged her blunt nails down Bellamy’s chest, leaving angry raised welts forming in her wake.
