She wanted me as a person, but she needed my money and power more than she’d ever admit, even to herself.
I brushed a ghost of a kiss against her lips and drew back just enough to look at her, blindfolded, lips parted, chest rising and falling so fast she reminded me of a frightened bird, and felt the last of my self-control slip through my fingers like smoke.
“You’ve been disloyal to me, little doll,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended and deceptively gentle. “You wore my mother’s ring while you promised yourself to another man. That can’t go unpunished.”
She trembled but didn’t protest. She didn’t try to bargain or tap out or even bring up safe words. No, she just… waited for my command like she already understood this was as much ritual as discipline tonight.
I sat down beside her on the edge of the bed and pulled her across my lap in one smooth motion, guiding her until she was stretched out over my thighs, and then flipped her skirt up to reveal an emerald green lace thong.
Fuck.
She was going to be the death of me, but I was fairly certain I’d enjoy every minute of my demise at her hands.
I tugged at her dress.
“Off. Now.”
She raised up just enough for me to peel the dress off her, leaving her in just a matching green lace bra and panty set that already had my cock twitching at the sight of her.
She settled back onto my lap, and I reveled in the feel of her warm bare skin and the rough lace against the fabric of my slacks, drinking in the sight of her ass, perfectly positioned for me to spank it again. It was devastatingly intimate. I could feel every shiver, every quickened breath.
I remembered what she’d said last night… petty, defiant, and perfect: ‘I want it to hurt your hand just as much as it hurts my ass’.
So, I gave her my hand again.
The first strike landed firm, a solid crack that echoed loud in the quiet room. She gasped, her body jerking slightly, but I didn’t rush the next one. I let my palm rest against the heat blooming on her skin, rubbing slow, soothing circles while the sting settled.
“This is for letting him put my ring on your finger,” I murmured, my voice low and almost broken.
I gave her another measured spank, harder this time. She cried out with a sharp, needy sound that went straight to my cock, leaving me hard and throbbing.
I rubbed her ass again, slower this time.
“This is for saying yes to him.”
Her back arched as I lifted my hand, pressing her ass up into my hand like she was chasing the next strike.
Fuck, she’s perfect.
I spanked her hard, then rubbed slow, hypnotic circles, soothing the sting until she was practically squirming and clenching her thighs.
“This is for making me feel things I can’t control.”
Each word felt ripped out of me. Every impact landed on her skin, turning it red, but it echoed inside my chest. Jealousy, awe, terror, and want all hit me harder than my palm could ever strike her ass. I wasn’t punishing her tonight as much as I was mentally and emotionally bleeding out on her.
She was screaming for me now, real cries, raw and open, but her hips rolled back into every blow and her thong and thighs were slick with pussy juices that soaked through my slacks where her pussy pressed against my leg. I groaned, low and helpless, becausefuck, the way she responded… the way she gave herself over to me completely, destroyed me more thoroughly than any of my scars ever had.
Mid-way through, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I stopped, my hand splayed possessively over the glowing heat of her ass, and reached for her left hand, the one wearing my mother’s ring. I brought it to my lips and kissed the green stone, slow and deliberate, then turned her palm up and pressed it to the unscarred side of my face… the right side, the one the world still thought was beautiful.
It was an apology I couldn’t voice, a confession I wasn’t ready to make.
I just held her hand against my cheek for a long breath, letting her feel the smoothness of that half of me against her skin, letting the ring rest cool between us like a promise I was terrified I didn’t deserve.
She stilled on my lap, fingers curling instinctively, cradling my cheek like something precious.
In that moment, with her blindfolded and trembling and marked by my hand, wearing my mother’s ring against my skin, I wasn’t the monster anymore. I was just a man who was completely fucking undone.
