“My task,” I jut a thumb back over my shoulder. “I know the girl it’s about.”
“Does it change things for you?” he asks seriously, a frown tugging at his hard features, making him look almost concerned. I’m not sure what it is about this guy, but it’s almost like he doesn’t want this—The Elite. He hates his given sin, that much is obvious, and there’s no missing the air of guilt surrounding him right now.
I shake my head. “No, I guess it makes it easier.”
“Good, because The Elite don’t want you wasting any time. Get started with it straight away,” he replies.
I chew on my bottom lip for a moment. I haven’t seen Patience in a long time. Not since the night I kissed her and ruined everything.
I stumble through the dark house, wondering where the low music is coming from. My father sent Sabella and I to bed as soon as the dinner party was over. She’s fast asleep, but I haven’t been able to. Instead, I stayed awake, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and working up a sweat. I’m only thirteen, but I’m determined to become a man as fast as I can. My life revolves around men in suits coming into my home and shutting doors on me. Men with muscles bigger than my entire body. Men in expensive suits, with women dripping from their arms. Men and money—that’s all I know. And I’m determined one day I’ll command their respect, one way or another.
I stand on the stairs in the dark, listening to the soft music coming from my father’s study, wondering if I should make sure he’s in there and hasn’t just left the music on.
Voices murmur from within, and I realize he’s inside talking to someone. I should go back up to my room, but I’m curious. Father never had anyone around after the servants went home. I creep farther down the stairs and tiptoe toward his door before placing my ear against the wood and listening.
At first, I can’t hear anything, just the low beat of the music vibrating through the air, but then, there’s a sound. Moaning and the sound of slapping. Hands on flesh and the soft cries of a woman.
My heart pounded in my chest, a sick feeling building in my gut.
My father is beating someone—a woman no less—and she’s crying.
I’m not sure what to do. I’ve always known there’s something dark about him, secrets he keeps from Sab and I. And the way he looks at us both sometimes is enough to make anyone fearful. Especially the way he looks at Sab. But I never thought this.
I’ve been working out, building my muscles and strength, and the fear I always feel when he’s home from one of his trips has slowly been evaporating. It’s now or never. I have to stand up to him. To protect whoever he’s hurting and show him I’m not a little kid anymore—that I won’t just stand by and let it happen. Not in my house.
I roll my shoulders and crack my knuckles before pressing down on the handle of his door and pushing it open. I’m lucky. He’s facing the opposite way and doesn’t hear me. I look around for something to hit him with, my gaze falling on a long paddle on the chair next to the door. I pick it up with a frown, my hands stroking over the hard wood as I wonder what it is.
The woman yelps, and my gaze shoots to her. She’s bent over my father’s desk, her skirt lifted up to show her bare ass, her pink cunt flashing at me as Father moves to the left and strokes a hand over her lower back.
I swallow, transfixed. Her hands are bound with black cord, and her ass has red welts across it.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl. Don’t think I didn’t see you at the table touching yourself, pressing your fingers inside your greedy cunt. I told you that you had to wait until I was ready to give you pleasure.” My father speaks in his usual domineering tone, sending shivers down my spine. “This punishment is your fault. Remember that.” His arm rears back as he lifts something up, then strikes her ass with it.
She yelps, again, and Father leans down next to her ear. “Silence.”
“Yes, sir,” she whimpers.
He rears back once more, hitting her ass and causing more red welts to appear on her skin. My pants feel suddenly tight, too tight. Reaching down, I adjust my semi-erect dick.
This is wrong.
He’s hurting her.
And yet I can’t stop the way my heart races and my dick tingles as I watch.
Father smooths a hand across her ass again. “Good girl.” I listen to him unbuckling his dress pants before letting them, and his underwear, drop to the floor where he steps out of both and kicks them away.
Now, all I can see is my father’s white ass and her beautiful one, now welted and red from the sting of whatever he’s used on her. My father goes to stand behind her, and I know what’s coming next. I’ve seen porn, I’m not stupid.
I want to walk away, but something keeps me here, glued to the spot as I watch him fucking her. She never makes a sound, never moves unless he rearranges her body to suit his needs better, and when he comes, he comes with a loud groan, grabbing her hips and slamming into her so hard, the large walnut desk he normally works at screeches across the floor, startling me out of my reverie.
I look down at the paddle in my hand, my gaze falling from the wood to the wet patch at the front of my jogging bottoms where I just came while watching my father bang a woman.
“Are you okay?” he asks, moving to untie her hands.
“Yes, sir,” the woman giggles.
He reaches for a pot of cream and begins to smooth some over the welts. “That better?”
