Page 38 of Filthy Little Lies

My heart jackhammers against my lungs, and my legs tremble as I shove out of my jeans.

“Five.” He wiggles his fanned-out fingers as I tear off my shirt, dropping it into the puddle of clothes along with my pride.

“Seven.”

I stand, naked, covering my chest, looking at the couch, the door to the bedroom, then back to him.

“Eight.”

Can people actually spontaneously combust? Because this would be a great time for that to happen.

“Nine.” He raises his eyebrows in warning.

Just as he starts to lift his last finger, I drop to my knees at his feet. The lush carpeting of the sitting room cushions me.

Cheeks burning, skin electrified, and my soul bare, I lower my gaze to his boots.

He sinks to his haunches in front of me, knuckling my chin until I have nowhere else to look but him. A soft smile rests on his lips, but it’s the heated pleasure pooling in his eyes that holds me captive.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He runs the pad of his thumb across my cheek, catching a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. Bringing it to his lips, he licks the bead of moisture away. “But I think I caught you in another lie.”

“What are you talking about?”

He cups my breast, flicking his thumb over my nipple. “You said you’d never be on your knees for me. Yet here you are.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You’re right. It’s not. But you know better than anyone that life isn’t fair. We get handed shit cards all the time. You’ve done your best playing with what you had, but things are changing, Savvy. You just have to accept it.”

I pull back from his touch, unsure where to put the feelings his words have pulled forward. Anger seems to be mixing with something lighter, something more pleasant.

And while I’m trying to put it all into perspective, he’s watching me so intently I can barely breathe beneath the attention.

“Take the belt and hand it to me,” he orders, taking away his touch.

I jerk my eyes to his, but he shakes his head before I can utter a protest. “I’m not going to spank you with it; just do what I say, Savvy.”

Gripping the buckle end, I pull it from around his neck, fold it in half and offer it to him.

“Good girl,” he whispers, taking it from me. The number of endorphins that flood my system with those two words should be studied.

What the actual fuck?

He wraps the belt around my throat, sliding the end through the buckle and pulling it tight until it creates a lead.

“You’ve been a bad girl, though, and you need to be punished. Don’t you?” He tugs on the belt, pulling me toward him an inch. “Tell me what you need, Savvy.”

“I need to be punished.” My pussy clenches as the words escape my lips.

He grins. “Ask me.”

Flames, huge, raging flames should be shooting off my face, but since he hasn’t caught fire, I guess it only feels that way.

“Gabriel, will you punish me?” I wait, expecting something horrible, a lightning strike or an earthquake to end this insanity. But nothing happens.

He kisses me again, holding me in place with the makeshift leash. The tightness in my chest eases. My body softens beneath his intensity.

“Of course I will.” He stands to his full height, still keeping the lead in his left hand.