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I’d never admit how much I miss him. Us. This.
“I’m not sure you’ve convinced me to listen,” I say, even as it’s hard to hear my own voice over the rapid thudding of my heart.
His eyes darken to stormy blue, and he reaches for the buckle of his belt.
Click.
Click.
Click.
“Wrong answer.” The belt slips through and swishes, doubled in his hand.
“Now, we don't need to get carried away,” I begin, but he shakes his head at me and points to the sofa. “Over the couch, woman.”
I toss my head. “You're going to take your belt to a woman who saved your sister from a burning building? You’re a monster.”
“Aye,” he says sternly. “Because she needs it. Now go and do what I say before I make you.” He blows out a breath. “And believe me, lass, I will.”
I walk to the couch on trembling legs and lie over the edge.
“You think I'm letting you stay dressed? Cute.”
“Yup.”
His belt cuts across my ass cheeks. I stifle a yelp. The second strike lands, then the third.
“Tell me you’ll listen, Valentina.”
There's genuine fear in his voice, and I know this time it isn’t just about sex. He's genuinely afraid for my safety.
“I believe the auction is the only way we end this. So I'm allowing it. Against my judgment. Against everything in me that says to protect you, to keep you aside, to keep you away from those monsters.” Thwip. I hiss in a breath. “And I know you're every bit the fucking fighter I am. But that doesn't mean”—slap—”you don't listen.”
I squirm, turned on and humbled all at once.
“Open your legs.” He kicks my feet apart and slides his fingers underneath my panties. “Just what I thought,” he says, shaking his head. “You're fucking wet.”
He takes the belt and threads it between my legs like a saddle, holding it against me. “Go on, now.”
I'm dying. The sensation is perfect, and it feels so fucking good, but I do exactly what he says. I'm squirming, going faster. “That's a good girl,” he says quietly. “You stay here. I'm not done with you yet.”
He takes the belt from between my legs. “Are you going to stay safe?”
“I'll do my best,” I say. But if he’s in danger…
“Not good enough, Valentina.” His breath is warm against my cheek. “I can't stand by and let them hurt you.”
His forehead falls to my shoulder, and the belt drops to the ground. “I won't do it.”
Then he spins me around, his hands framing my face, and he's kissing me. When I taste salt, I know I'm crying. Maybe he is too.
“I won't let them hurt you,” he says, his voice breaking.
“And they’ll put you back in prison.” My voice shakes. “I won’t let that happen either.”
I'm crying freely now. His thumb runs along my cheek, just like he always does. “Then we do this together.”
“Together?”
