and endless sort of way. That, and I was never capable of hurting the people that hurt me. Not by myself.
See, I told you, tonight was all about punishment.
Tonight … is not the same as the last time he spanked me. Last time, he was warning me. Actually, he was being nice. “I'm preparing you. It's a service I don't offer most of my clients. Be grateful, Bernadette.” That’s what Victor told me when we were sitting in his front yard, right before I kissed him to seal the deal.
A kiss.
Hah.
And now we’ve come to this, yet another moment that he did his best to prepare me for.
The belt makes contact with my ass again, and I drop my upper body into the pillows, biting down on one to keep at least some of my dignity intact. It’s not supposed to feel so good, is it? I told Aaron that I only liked it when he spanked me, but … maybe that was a lie?
Vic’s fingers dig into the hair at the back of my skull and he pulls my head up, forcing me to remain on my hands and knees.
“Take it like a queen, Bernie,” he growls, and then he hits me with the belt for a third time. Victor releases my hair, but I stay where I am, anticipating the next sharp crack of leather on bare flesh, the sting that follows, and the warm pleasure that radiates out from each spot Vic chooses to rest his inked fingers. He caresses my ass after each smack, like he can’t help but be my boss and my husband at the same time.
He takes his sweet time as my body throbs in response to the belt, to his nearness, to the orgasm I just got done having with the vibrator. My blood is hot and lazy and slow, laced with marijuana, and it makes everything feel amazing.
“One for each member of Havoc,” Vic explains as I look back and find them all exactly where I left them, watching me from behind their masks. Victor spanks me again, and I adjust myself, like I think he’s done. One spanking for each letter in the acronym. Only … there’s still one person that’s owed their pound of flesh, and that’s me.
Yep, the very last spanking is in honor of me.
Victor whips the belt forward, and I scream as it hits me, but not out of pain.
None of this is painful.
Vic tosses the belt aside as I let out a low, sensual laugh.
“What are you planning on doing now?” I ask, and my husband pauses, tapping his fingers against both of my hip bones.
“That all depends on you, I suppose,” he tells me in that dreadfully calm voice of his, the one that could—no, already does—command literal armies. That other gang … the GMP … they wouldn’t be looking into Havoc if there wasn’t something to Victor’s leadership. “You wanted five men, and you’ve been given them.”
I say nothing, and Vic’s hands tighten on my hips, making me groan.
“Do it,” I whisper, voice breathy and stretched-thin, like I might very well shatter if they leave me here. “Fuck me.”
Victor pauses for a moment, and then I hear the sound of his jeans being unzipped. When he presses the head of his cock against me, my body shudders involuntarily.
I think about Scarlett Force then, that race car driver from a few years back, the one with the three boyfriends. She was caught once, having an orgy in the girls’ locker room with them.
This isn’t the locker room, but …
Victor thrusts fully into me with a single stroke, grabbing onto my hair for leverage. With the other hand, he holds my hip, keeping us pressed together for a moment so I can feel every inch of him like I’m being branded by the shape of his cock.
“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grinds out, a bit of that easy control slipping. I seem to have that effect on him. “I give you a simple goddamn order and you try to get yourself killed.”
“Must be in my blood,” I purr, glancing back at him. “Or maybe that’s why I hired you? To save me from myself?”
“Must be,” Vic bites, and then he starts to move, pulling on my hair and causing my back to arch. I put one hand up against the headboard as he rides me, the bed creaking ever so slightly with our movements. He’s brutal about it, too,