Hudson didn’t ask any more questions. Maybe he saw the need burning in my eyes, or maybe my submissive nature finally brought the dominance out of him. The first few smacks were gentle, but then he tried a few that were harder. That was what I needed—that sting. I lifted my ass to greet his hand as it came down, trying to show him that I wanted more. I was scared to be honest with him about the reason I begged for him to put me over his knee. He was the kind of man that would wrap his arms around me and try to quell the fear with love, but that was what he always did. I needed it when I first came back to Andalusia and realized the truth, but that need was gone for the moment. If he was going to convince me to stay, even without knowing that leaving had been on the edge of my thoughts, then he was going to have to show me he was strong enough to give me a taste of the pain my body couldn’t function without.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Have you been punished enough, naughty girl?” Hudson’s hand moved between my thighs and rubbed against my labia. “I’ve got something much better than a spanking for you if you’re ready to be good.”
“No.” I exhaled sharply and moaned as his finger sent pleasure shooting through my veins. “You have to keep punishing me.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“You’re going to end up with a red ass if I keep it up.” He rubbed the stinging flesh where his hand had just landed. “Are you sure this isn’t too much?”
He’s still being sweet—still being nice.
“It’s not enough.” I looked over my shoulder and moved my ass against his hand. “I need you to spank me harder—I need you to really punish me.”
Something clicked in his eyes and the jovial expression faded from his face. I saw the beast simmering below the surface again. I didn’t want him to hold it back until the spanking was over and he was inside me. The roughness had to come out—life had to be breathed into his dominance. He lifted his hand and brought it down hard enough to make me squirm. I dug my fingers into his leg and braced for the next one, and it was even harder. I pushed my ass up to greet his hand and the crack of his calloused palm on my tender flesh echoed through the room. The fury was finally coming out of him. He tapped into something that finally started to give me what I needed to feel truly alive. The pain intensified, and my ass started to burn instead of sting. I closed my eyes and endured it, because it was finally a reflection of the pain I needed.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Harder.” My body rocked forward, and my fingernails dug into his leg. “Don’t stop.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I was really starting to squirm. My body was embracing the fight or flight that came from the pain. I felt the emotional release that shot endorphins into my veins. My eyes started to water. I tasted years of heartbreak, my abandonment issues, and the lies Preston told in an instant, magnified in a way that was almost therapeutic. His hand began to slow down, but he delivered a few more hard smacks in the center of my ass before he stopped. He could have kept going and I would have taken it, because I didn’t know how to break away from the pain once it was flourishing inside me. He rubbed my ass, but the burn was still there. Physical pain was so much different than the internal turmoil I was used to. It would always fade. His powerful arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled me up until I was locked in an embrace. My head fell against his shoulder, and the tears finally started to really come.
“Let’s just lay her for a little bit.” Hudson shifted on the bed and kept me in his arms as he stretched out.
It felt so good to be in his arms, and it felt good to cry on my own terms—to push myself towards the pain with both eyes open and then let it go like a hard burst of air from my lungs. Hudson held me for almost an hour without saying a word. I heard silence in the air, and silence in my own thoughts. In that moment, I knew I would never leave Andalusia. I would never leave Hudson’s arms. He had given me what I needed most—a way to remain where I should have stayed all those years ago. The truth was separated from the lies. A new clarity settled into my soul. I would never be able to be fill the need with peace and love, unless I had a way to dip into the pain when my body cried out for it. It was too familiar to leave me permanently.
“Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Hudson lifted his hand and ran his fingers through my hair. “It was hot—don’t get me wrong, but I got the feeling that it wasn’t about a sexual urge.”
“It wasn’t.” I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. “I have to tell you something…”
“You can tell me anything.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead. “I know you’ve been through a lot in your life.”
“I have been struggling, but it isn’t b
ecause I care about you. It’s the opposite.” I exhaled sharply. “It’s hard for me to feel happiness without having a sense of dread attached to it. I’m always afraid of what’s lurking in the shadows, even when there’s nothing out there. It always feels like something is coming for me—something that will destroy any hope that I allow myself to have.”
“That’s understandable.” He nodded. “That’s what you’ve lived with your whole life.”
“I just needed to feel the pain in my own way—I needed to be able to control it.” I dropped my head against his chest. “You gave me that. Thank you.”
But now the sense of dread is starting to creep up again, because I know there’s only one way to truly fix everything. I have to find a way to bring the three of us together again—to undo everything that happened the day Preston lied.
15
Hudson
The woman who appeared on my doorstep with the far away look in her eyes was no version of Eliza that I had seen before. There was a difference in her body language, a need in her eyes that I didn’t recognize, and what she asked me to do—that was beyond unexpected. We played a game once. She was a naughty girl, and I pretended to punish her. It wasn’t real. It left her ass a little pink, we laughed, and then we had sex—explosive sex. That’s where I thought she was going with it until we got to the bedroom. I wasn’t entirely ready for what she begged for, but I did it. Mostly because I could see that for whatever reason—it had to happen. The memories of the last time I spanked her weren’t very pleasant for me. That was the day I told her how I truly felt. That was the day she left my bed and never returned. I just thought it was her choice and my fault until I found out that my brother was the one who ultimately drove her away from my arms forever.
Once the so-called punishment was over, she told me why she needed it, or at least she did so with the words she could find. It was in that moment that I realized exactly how broken Eliza really was. Our reunion had been amazing, but the damage that had left a mark on her heart wasn’t one that could be wiped away with a kiss or covered up by passion. She still carried too much of that hurt, and when her heart wasn’t able to feel it, her body had to endure it instead. The summer we spent together brought something out of me—something that I had rarely tapped into since then. It was a dominant desire lingering in the back of my thoughts and on the edge of my subconscious. That was the man she needed, but it wasn’t a sexual need, because the pain she needed to experience wasn’t one that pulled her into a loving embrace. She needed more, and I began to realize that in order for our relationship to survive, I had to wear that mask sometimes. I had to be strong enough to hurt her—and that tore me apart.
* * *
One week later
“Hudson, we’ve got a call. I need all hands on deck. There’s a house fire in Indian Hills.” Chief Traywick pointed towards the fire truck.