We stay still for a long time, my cock still deep within her.She’s the first one to stir, but I keep her trapped under me for a while longer, reveling in my strength over her. She has no choice but to submit.
And she doesn’t seem to mind. She merely sighs in apparent contentment as I nip at her ear.
“You’re going to make me a baby,” I whisper, so low that I wonder if she’s heard. Her wide eyes are the only thing that betrays she has.
Well,fuck.
All my resentment is back. Withdrawing my cock from her, I lift a hand and let it fall hard on her already pink ass. She yelps in surprise.
I can’t tell if my desire to give her another spanking comes from arousal or frustration. But I smack her once more, harder than I meant to, then again and again, resentment overtaking all else.
Her wide eyes just now reminded me that everything still feels wrong. Upside down.
She’s mine. My possession. I’ve fallen in love with her, and that in itself is insane.
But her own feelings remain guarded, and that’s the part that drives me mad. Something is going on, and she won’t tell me. When did I stop being able to read those violet eyes of hers?
I can glean just enough from her stressed reactions to realize that she doesn’t share my enthusiasm about the future. The ring on her finger doesn’t seem to mean a thing. The house in the countryside clearly fills her with dread, and I have a feeling it’s not only the dirt. And any mention of children is met with wide eyes and a tied tongue.
What the hell is going on?
I snap out of my thoughts as I realize I’ve been spanking her longer and harder than I’ve meant to. Far harder than the flogging. Everything I do lately is tempered by the memory ofthat horrible beating in the woods. But now, I’ve turned her ass a mottled crimson.
And she never uttered a sound.
Which means she’s accepting that this is punishment. Real punishment, just like the beating.
Overwhelmed with remorse, I crash down beside her on the mattress. Her face is wet with tears, and my heart feels like lead in my chest. I dry her cheeks with a finger and press my lips against hers.
“I love you, do you know that?” I whisper.
As the words leave my mouth, I’m aware it’s the first time I’ve said them.
She looks at me, blinking slowly.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I say, trying to keep a touch of humor in my voice, but it sounds harsh and distant.
She moves her lips a few times before managing, “Thank you.”
It’s all I can do to keep from responding to those words with another volley of punishing smacks.
But I’m not a monster.
Okay, well, that’s not true.
Still, I’m determined not to play that part anymore with her. I’m going to restrain myself, even if it costs me my sanity.
Clenching my jaw, I turn away, leaving her helplessly hogtied to the bed. I may be determined not to be a monster, but that doesn’t mean I’ll restrain myself from being an asshole. I won’t hit her again, but this way she’ll remember she has no power. She might keep me out of her mind, but she has no say when it comes to her body.
As I hear her heavy breathing behind me, I allow myself to sink into bitter thoughts.
I was once perfectly satisfied at the knowledge that I could soothe her with a touch of my fingers, punish her with my hands, come and go as I pleased as she helplessly waited for me to visither. But that form of control doesn’t satisfy me any longer. I may have bought a house, and I may have decided that she’s going to live there with me, whether she wants to or not. But I can’t control her mind. No matter how hard I try.
She holds the real power, and it scares me. Not just scares me.Infuriatesme.
But my anger is tempered by admiration at her resolve. Under the quiet exterior, she’s made of granite. Despite everything, she’s remained strong. And guarded. Which I guess I can’t really fault her for. I was cruel to her. I’m lucky she belongs to me at all.
The painful memories are enough to melt my fury, or rather, to turn it inward. To direct it at myself. But I crush it deep down at the sound of an uncomfortable cough.
