Page 21 of Empress of Ruin
I’m not sure what I desire more; punishing her or comforting her. Thankfully, I’ll get to do both.
“I think ten firm spanks each morning should do it,” I go on. “And, when I’m feeling kind, you can choosewhereI spank you.”
“Ass,” she says immediately.
“I said when I’m feeling kind. I’m not in a good mood this morning.” I spank her center again for emphasis; she jerks and cries out even louder, trying to wriggle out from beneath me.
“Don’t make me tie you down,” I warn. “If you lie there and take it, I might kiss the pain away later.”
I set about completing my task without further ado. By the fifth spank, there are tears welling in her eyes; by the eighth, they’ve started falling. On the tenth and final, a sob escapes her. Her eyes are red and slightly swollen; her dazed expression has fled. But when she meets my eyes… my god, the amount of hatred there is stunning. I think that if my Little Bird had a gun, she’d shoot me in the head.
“Good girl,” I murmur, brushing her hair away from her face. “That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?”
“I hate you,” she sniffles. “I hate youso much—”
“Enough.” My tone is firm. She mightthinkshe hates me, but I doubt that she truly knows how she feels about me. There’s some… bad history between us, granted. But it’s not all terrible, and it certainly won’t be terrible moving forward.
I’m aware that I’m a sadistic, difficult man, but I meant what I said to Lyra before. She willalwaysremain at the top of my priorities. Even while I’m harboring a good deal of anger at her for running away for months. Our time apart left me reeling, not to mention the mess I had to clean up after her expose.
“Ido,” she insists.
“Sure, Little Bird. That’s why my palm is coated in your arousal, and your body isbeggingme for more.”
Her cheeks burn. She tries to sit up, but I push her back down with my hand, lazily circling her clit a few times for emphasis.
“It’s not—” she cuts off with a moan as I slide a finger inside her, keeping my thumb pressed to her clit. “One has—nothing to do… with the other.”
“Then why are you already clenching around me?” I whisper. “If you hate me so much, why are you on the cusp of an orgasm?”
“Because—” she cries out. “…my body is different from my brain.”
“Mm.” I’ll have fun making her eat her words over and over again. She can profess to hate me all she wants; I’m not sure she truly does. I’m not sure if she even knows how she feels. “Well, then. If you hate me so much, I suppose you have no interest in pleasure.”
I pull my hand away. She gasps, and stares up at me with wide, confused eyes. “W-what?”
“You have no use of an orgasm from a man you hate, right?”
Her lips part, but no response comes out. I hide a smile as I pointedly wipe my hand on my bed sheets, leaving a damp spot. “Get yourself cleaned up. There are clothes in the closet. By the way; the number you chose is the number of hours you’ll have to wait for your orgasm. But, since you hate me so much, I think I’ll bump youroneup to a five.”
Her loud screech of anger fills the room as I stand and make my way to the door. “There are plenty of clothes in the closet for you,” I call over my shoulder, opening the door. “I’ll see you in the living room in twenty minutes. Don’t be late.”
Chapter Nine
Lyra
Iforce myself to get over my anger as I peruse the contents of the closet. It doesn’t help that my entire body is aching, yearning for the promise of pleasure, while my brain is stuck on a reel ofI want to destroy Killian King.
The disheartening thing is that I already tried. I played my best hand against him, and I still failed. It wasn’t enough.Iwasn’t enough.
Defeat might be inevitable, but it won’t stop me from trying again. And again, and again, and again, because eventually, somethingwillwork. Killian already took everything from me once; my freedom, my choices,my child. It’s only fair that I findsomerecourse, some way to get him back.
My fingers trail over garments that drip wealth. He spent a fortune on a full wardrobe of clothes, all in my size, mostof which I’ll never wear. I don’t require dozens of expensive dresses, shirts, pants, skirts, and an entire section reserved for lingerie. Even in my old apartment, my closet was modest and limited to exactly what I required at any given time. Clothes for work, clothes for going out, clothes for exercise, and a few nice dresses for the occasional event I had to attend.
A deep, unexpected ache overwhelms me at the thought of my apartment. My life can be neatly boxed into two segments;beforeandafterKillian swept in like a storm and upended everything. The before is who I used to be, and the after is who I became.
I choose the most uninteresting, uninspired outfit I can find; yoga pants and a loose shirt. When I go downstairs to the living room, Killian takes one look at me and shakes his head. “No. We have reservations at a nice brunch spot—smart-casual minimum. Go change.”
He’s going to try to control what Iwear,down to the article of clothing that goes on my body? Choosing my general options isn’t enough?
