Requiem of the Soul (The Society Trilogy #1) - Natasha Knight Page 0,59

I be able to visit my family?"

"If you behave this week, then you will be granted those privileges accordingly."

She stiffens as my unspoken threat settles over her, but after some consideration, she seems to come to a silent conclusion as determination steels her eyes.

"Fine. I'll do what you ask as long as I can see my father and Evangeline this week."

Her insistence on seeing that scum grates at me. But a deal is a deal. If she wants it, she will have to earn it.

"Come here."

She rises from the chair slowly, her legs stiff as she takes her first step. I shake my head and point at the floor.

"On your knees."

Her jaw hardens, and she hesitates, silently considering if it's worth it. Then she lowers herself to her knees and begins to crawl.

The sight of her submission is so enticing, it takes more restraint than necessary to wait until she's before me to wrap my fingers in her hair and tug her face up. I rub the erection in my slacks against her cheek, and she closes her eyes with an agonized sound in her throat.

"I hope your visit will be worth it." I slide the delicate straps of her nightgown down until it slips over her arms and bares her breasts to me.

Nothing would please me more than to watch her struggle to take my cock in her mouth. But that will have to wait for another time.

Unzipping my slacks, I tug my length free, and she peeks up at the monstrosity bobbing in front of her face with wide eyes.

"Stroke it," I command, my fingers tightening in her hair. "Stroke it until my come covers your breasts. And if I am satisfied, then I will consider your request."

She reaches up and wraps her palm around me, and I shut my eyes, relaxing into her touch. I told her she would have to earn it, and she does. With every firm slide of her hand, she earns another piece of my shattered restraint.

Gripping and sliding, she indulges me with her palm unlike anyone ever has before. In my mind, I know women have done this for me. But I can’t seem to recall another time, another face. Only hers. And when I explode across her chest, the undeniable evidence of my pleasure dripping down over her tits, the deal is done. But the humiliation does not feel adequate when she looks up at me with soft, hooded eyes. So, I drag my fingers through the liquid adorning her skin and smear it across her lips, forcing her to lick my fingers clean. Only then do I concede in granting her what she wants.

"One visit to start," I tell her as I tuck my cock back into my trousers. “The rest we will determine based on your performance.”

22

Ivy

The next morning, I’m already dressed when Antonia arrives with my breakfast. She’s been the only thing keeping me from going mad in this room the past few days. I only know how long it’s been because I am marking days on a piece of paper inside the desk. I started the second day when she brought me breakfast. It’s silly maybe but keeping me locked up in here, even for just these three days, is taking its toll.

I need to swim. To move. I need to see sunshine. Open a window. That little square of light isn’t doing it, and besides, it’s been raining. I swear it feels like it always rains at this house.

But he said I’d get to see my dad today. And I feel like Santiago is a man who keeps his word.

I close the tube of salve I’ve been instructed to put on my tattoo and am up as soon as the door opens, the pain on the bottoms of my feet finally gone. That was two strokes. How had he taken more? What had he said when his back had been crisscrossed? When his feet opened up when he walked?

God. Is that how his father punished him? What a horrible man. Yet he has a photograph of him on the chapel altar.

I don’t understand my husband. He’s a complete mystery.

“Good morning, dear,” Antonia says cheerily, although I always notice that little bit of concern when she comes in here in the mornings and shifts her gaze nervously around the room, looking me over. I wonder what she’s looking for. A noose maybe. After only three days, I’m ready to hang myself, but I don’t need rope for