“Punishing you.”
She kicked out when I tried to grab her ankle. I wrestled her legs to the bed and clicked the spreader into place. Frustrated, she dropped her head back to the pillow, her eyes glazed with unshed tears. “Punishing me? I did nothing wrong.”
“Hmm.” I grinned, lifting her thighs to slide a firm pillow under her ass, angling her pussy upward. “Let’s settle with mouthing off in front of people and the slap. Work for you?”
“Nothing you didn’t deserve,” she retorted, her sarcasm stirring my cock.
“Nobody disrespects me, little fox, not even a pussy I want to fuck.”
“You’re sick.”
“We’ve already established that.”
Her eyes widened when she noticed me pull out and prep a syringe. “No.” She shook her head. “Don’t you dare, Remo. I’m a doctor…I…What’s that for?” Her voice shook.
“Local anesthetic.” I gave it a soft tap.
“You’re not injecting me with anything,” she ranted, twisting her body when I moved to her arm.
Smiling, I looked down at her, loving the angry flush to her skin, debating whether to sedate her or not. I enjoyed pain, enjoyed watching people suffer and relished a woman’s pleas, what I was about to do now though, required her surprise, her anger, her defiance more than the pleasure of her pain. Giving it no further thought, I held her hand down and stuck the needle in her.
Silence followed a moment longer before she begged, “please.”
“Please what?”
“Whatever it is you’re planning, don’t do it,” she whispered, her expression a sweet submission I liked.
“What do you have to offer in return?”
Dejection slumped her shoulders. “Anything.”
Hmm. I licked my lips. “What you don’t realize, little fox, is I’m going to take everything whether you offer it or not.”
“Ass…hole,” her words slurred as the sedation took effect. Another second and her eyes closed.
My hand dived into my backpack again, retrieving a tattoo machine I’d used on myself plenty and set it on the nightstand. Satisfied, she wasn’t waking up, I set to work. The sweet buzz of the tattoo machine filled the ward a few minutes later and I smiled, anticipating her reaction.
Thirty minutes later, I stood back to admire my handiwork. “My pretty little fox,” I hummed. “You’re all mine now.”
While I waited for her to come to, I packed everything away, took out my phone and stood at the door. Another ten minutes and the ding of the elevator drew my attention as a security guard stepped off. When he saw me, he paused, opened his mouth to say something just before recognition dawned.
“Mr. Rossi?” He neared me. “Is everything alright?”
I smiled, holding out my hand. It took a second for him to notice the hundred-dollar bill. “You didn’t see me here tonight?”
“Yes, Mr. Rossi.” He took the bill. “Thank you and have a good evening.” He tipped his head at me and walked off.
I re-entered the room as Ishika came to. She glanced around for a moment, blinking a few times before her eyes landed on me. “What did you do to me?” she slurred instead of yelling.
Moving closer, I held out a glass of water. “Drink?”
She narrowed her eyes at me, but her dry throat won out and she allowed me to feed her, gulping down the entire cup without pausing for a breath. Not even a second after swallowing, she opened her mouth, then winced. “Oh, my God, why does it hurt.”She wriggled her ass, then lifted her head to look down at her now covered pussy, confusion clouding her features. “What did you do, Remo?”
I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral despite the amusement curling in my chest. “Gave you a keepsake.”
“A what?” she asked, her eyes narrowing into slits of suspicion.
“You said you didn’t belong to me and now you do.” At her frown, I held a mirror above her pussy and gently slid down the waistband of her pants, having removed her panty and exposed the fresh ink, stark against her pale flesh.
