“What?” I asked faintly.
His fingers continued to play through my hair. “You tried to run from me. I have to punish you for that.” His jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring. “I have to,” he rasped, almost as though he was speaking to himself.
“Why?” Fear didn’t surge through my system, but something fluttered in my belly.
His full lips pressed to a thin line, and his hand fisted in my hair. “Because you’re mine.” He took a breath, some of his ferocity melting. “This will hurt, but I won’t harm you.”
He didn’t give me the option to protest, and I didn’t bother. I’d already resigned myself to the fact that this would happen; I’d known he’d want to hurt me for trying to escape. Whatever he planned to do to me, I would endure it. I didn’t have a choice.
He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his knee, just like he’d done earlier.
“Over my lap,” he ordered.
He didn’t want me to suck his cock. He wanted to spank me again.
I eyed the belt he still held in his fist.
Oh.
No one had ever belted me before, not even as a child. My grandmother had favored the switch when I’d stepped out of line. I didn’t resent her for the discipline; I’d loved her fiercely.
What Adrián expected of me was similar, in a strange way. He didn’t intend to beat me, to break me. This was discipline, punishment for a transgression.
I might still plan to escape him eventually, but guilt nipped at me for my reckless actions that had led to my abduction by the paramilitary fighters.
I didn’t feel that I’d earned the punishment, precisely, but the impending pain was easier to stomach when I interpreted it in this framework.
“Conejita,” he warned, patting his knee again.
I released a soft sigh and went to him, draping myself over his lap. He didn’t trap my hands at the small of my back, as he’d done when he’d spanked me. He seemed to sense that I wouldn’t struggle this time.
I didn’t intend to. I’d given myself up like an offering, compliantly placing my body where he wanted it.
His palm smoothed over my exposed ass, his calloused fingertips stroking me. “Qué bonita,” he murmured.
I shivered at the reverent praise and soothing touch. Despite my trepidation, I couldn’t help relaxing under his gentle hands.
His cock jerked beneath me, hardening against my belly. The fluttering in my stomach intensified, but my fear didn’t rise. Something heated between my legs, my sex pulsing for him the way it always had. I reacted to him on instinct. He’d conditioned me to feel pleasure long ago. He’d taught me the secrets of my body.
He withdrew his hand, and a soft whine eased up my throat at the loss of his touch. It was immediately replaced with the kiss of buttery leather. He rubbed the belt over my bottom, lighting up my nerve endings. Anticipation made my heartbeat tick up, and my sex pulsed in time to match it. Something warm soaked my indecent panties, and a heavy, musky scent teased through the air around us.
Adrián groaned, his cock stiffening further. “So perfect. You’re going to kill me, conejita.”
I didn’t fully understand what he meant, but I couldn’t focus on his rasped words. Pleasure flooded my system in response to the praise, and all I could think about were the long-forgotten feelings assailing my body. My blood heated; my sex throbbed; my breath quickened.
The belt slapped against my bottom, barely more than a tap. I gasped at the sudden shift in sensation. He repeated the action several times in rapid succession. My flesh jiggled, my skin warming. A tingling awoke between my legs, and I squirmed over his lap.
The first lash fell, a punitive stroke. “Be still,” he growled, his cock pressing hard against my hip. I realized he must be experiencing physical discomfort from denying himself, but still, he didn’t force me.
I didn’t want to cause him pain, so I relaxed, my body going soft and supple.
“Good girl.” Another hard lash landed, making a harsh sting bloom on my upper thighs. I smothered a soft cry, my muscles tensing.
“Don’t fight it.” He delivered another ruthless blow. “Accept your punishment.”
He didn’t relent, the belt lighting my skin on fire with every cruel stroke. The burning pain was almost more than I could bear, but I didn’t struggle or beg for mercy. After a while, something strange happened. The burning sank deeper into my flesh, reaching my core. Flames licked at my insides, heating my secret places as something tightened low in my belly. A moan left my chest as my head dropped forward. The tingling sensation in my sex raced up my spine to flood my mind, making me almost dizzy.
The blows stopped. “Such a good girl,” he rumbled. His fingertips traced the line of one of the stinging welts on my skin. Sparks danced over my enflamed flesh, making me shiver with a wash of pleasure.