The belt fell across my right buttock, and I gasped at the sharpness of it.
"One." My voice was clear and surprisingly calm.
Nate delivered the next one on the other side, the crack of leather filling the silence as lightning zapped through me.
"Two."
He continued, unhurried, giving me a moment to absorb the pain of each impact. The strokes all landed in a different spot. My voice became less steady with each number. I counted on as my arms shook slightly from the effort I was putting in to holding my position.
Tears came after the fifth stroke.
"Do you need to use your safeword?" Nate checked.
"No." I was determined to handle the punishment better than before. It was different this time. Nate was being more cautious, giving me space to breathe between lashes.
"Three more, then."
The last two strokes were harder than the others. I shrieked out the numbers, the sound emanating from my throat almost inhuman. I was completely wrung out. My limbs trembled and pain throbbed through my punished flesh. With it came a sense of satisfaction. I'd dealt with the thrashing without complaint.
Nate set the belt on the desk next to me. He helped me up and turned me to face him.
"You did very well, Juliet." He pulled me close, his arm around my back, and brushed his lips over my forehead in a light kiss. "I'm proud of you."
Restlessness thrummed through me as he held me tight. I needed something, but I didn't know what. I pressed myself against Nate, and he seemed to understand what I craved before I did. Slipping his hand between our bodies, he caressed my intimate flesh.
I parted my legs. With the quiet confidence of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, he pushed two fingers into my drenched pussy, curling them until he found my g-spot. As he stroked it gently, his thumb circled my clit. I grabbed his shoulders and held on tight as he teased me to a frenzy. His other hand sought my nipple. He pinched the rosy peak between his fingers, and that was all it took to send a wave of ecstasy through me.
Nate withdrew his fingers and steadied me as I collapsed into his arms. When the last ripples had died down, I straightened.
"Now it's your turn." With a wicked grin, I sank to my knees.
Chapter Sixteen
Nate
It was obvious from the moment we walked through the door at Ristorante Campo Fina that the hostess recognized both Juliet and me. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted on a gasp before her professional composure reasserted itself.
She led us to a spot midway down the central communal table and mentioned that the chef was a great admirer, though she didn't specify which of us he held in esteem. She told us that if there was anything not on the menu we only had to ask, and that she hoped we would let her know personally if we needed assistance. It was a little overboard.
I thanked her, and she retreated. Juliet and I took our seats on the benches at opposite sides of the table. Coming here had been her idea. She'd suggested over breakfast that making a public appearance together might help to counter the narrative Kane was pushing in his seedy publications.
So she'd put on the red floral dress she'd worn on the night of the harvest dance, tied her hair back in a high ponytail so nobody could claim she'd tried to hide her face, and we'd come to Healdsburg. Juliet had deliberately chosen a restaurant withfamily-style seating, so we'd be forced into closer proximity with people who'd witness our unity.
To ensure we'd be noticed arriving in town, I'd had three cars accompany ours. If we made an entrance, someone was bound to tip off the press that we were here.
The woman next to Juliet introduced herself and her husband before we'd had a chance to open our menus. She'd been dining at Campo Fina for fifteen years and was keen to share her strong opinions about the meatballs.
"The veal," Donna said. "That's the secret. Some places use beef, and you can always tell the difference."
"What does it do to the texture?" Juliet asked, genuinely interested in the woman's point of view.
"It makes them lighter, more delicate." Donna picked up her fork and pointed it at the menu. "Get the meatballs. You won't regret it."
Juliet nodded decisively. "The meatballs, it is." She smiled adoringly at me. "What about you, darling? Will you go for the meatballs, or will it be a steak as usual?"
I smiled, enjoying how she seeded the idea that ours had been a longer relationship than anyone knew.
"Try the seafood risotto," Donna's husband Andrew suggested. "The steak's good, but nothing to write home about."
