Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Anyone looking at us would assume I was whispering sweet nothings into her ear, telling her how beautiful she was, or all the things I’d rather do to her somewhere private.
“You already publicly humiliated me. You have people thinking I have been with you behind Dubois’s back. I am being called a whore by my peers, and lecherous men are leering at me, wondering what kind of magic I can do in the bedroom to be worthy of such a public scene. What more could you possibly do to me? Lock me in a tower? Send me to a convent after we are married? But wait, all of that would reflect poorly on you.”
She turned her back to me, and seeing her bare skin, I snapped.
I encircled her wrist, holding firmly but not tight enough to hurt in case she had more bruises that I hadn’t seen yet. I pulled her out of the ballroom and down the hall.
“I think you and I need to have a talk.”
CHAPTER 6
AMELIA
Several men were playing billiards when we burst into the room.
Luc took one look at them and ordered, “Out.”
Without any objection, the men dropped their pool cues and left.
Luc slammed the double doors shut after the last man… and locked them.
The cold, damning sound of the bolt sliding into place sent a chill up my spine.
I knew better than to call out for help. Not only would that cause an unforgiveable scene, but it would also be for nothing. They would take one look at Luc and not risk his wrath, or more accurately financial ruin, by helping me.
Crossing my arms over my middle, I tapped my foot. “Well, you wanted to talk. So talk.”
He shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and tossed it over the nearest oxblood leather chair. Raising his arm, he unhooked his cuff link and rolled up first one sleeve then the other. “I misspoke. Talking wasn’t what I had in mind.”
I frowned as I backed up, placing the billiards table between us. I answered in a frigid tone. “You forget yourself, sir.”
“On the contrary, I’m reminding you precisely who I am in this relationship,” he ground out as he stalked around the table toward me.
I scurried to the other side of the table. Forgetting my earlier conviction, I threatened him. “I’ll scream.”
He continued to relentlessly pursue me. “I don’t mind an audience for what I’m about to do…but you might.”
I blanched, tripping over my skirt in my momentary distraction.
Taking advantage, he lunged.
Before I could object, he snatched me around the waist and bent me over the billiards table. A rush of chilled air raised goosebumps on the exposed flesh of my thighs as he flipped the voluminous skirt of my dress over my hips to expose my silk panties.
“How dare you!” My words hissed from between my clenched teeth as I flattened my palms against the green felt and tried to force up my torso.
He placed a firm hand between my shoulder blades to keep me in place. “You are about to learn I will dare a great deal when it comes to you.”
The retort died on my lips as he landed a sharp, stinging slap on my right ass cheek.
I cried out, more from shock than pain. “Are you mad? Unhand me!”
Luc responded by peppering my ass several more times, building in intensity with each connection of his palm against my silk-clad bottom.
I curled my hands into fists, pounding them on the billiards table. “Stop! It hurts!”
“It’s supposed to hurt,” he taunted. “It’s a punishment.”
I glared at him over my shoulder. “I’m not some little girl to be spanked over your knee!”
Fisting my hair, he leaned over me, his lips mere inches from mine. His gaze moved from my lips to my eyes.
My breath seized. Was he going to kiss me again? Did I want him to?
My toes curled inside my high heels as I clenched my inner thighs.
Everything about this was dark and twisted. It was as if the very air crackled with barely suppressed sexual violence, like the moment right before receiving a shock from an exposed wire. There was the spark. You knew the pain was coming. You could feel the rush of adrenaline as your body prepared for it. You knew there would be this sick rush of euphoria afterward, as if you just cheated death.
Then for some strange reason you couldn’t explain, you found yourself stretching your fingertip out again…to touch the wire…one more time.
I should be enraged. I should be screaming for the authorities, and yet there was something arousing about having him looming over me, his body weight pinning me down, his punishing hand on my skin. How the pain made my body come alive in ways I hadn’t felt before, my dull existence having tamped down all other forms of emotion.