She nodded her head even though she didn't know what was coming, the fear in her so unlike my rebellious wife that suspicion continued to rise in me. The reaction was extreme, because she had to know that I would use sex to punish her for playing with my pussy while I was gone.
I slid her shirt up until it caught on her bra, baring her lower back to me so I could trail the riding crop down her spine. She jolted when the foreign object touched her, trying desperately to see behind her to know what it was. Pulling it back and stepping to the side, I cracked it against the flesh of her ass.
She cried out, a whimper following as the sting of the initial blow faded into a trail of fire across her ass cheeks. "Rafe, please," she begged. I hit her again, leaving a second strip parallel to the first one. Her skin flushed such a pretty red in the wake of the blows, and I chuckled as she rose up onto her toes to try to escape the strike she knew was coming.
"You shouldn't have played with my pussy," I argued, crossing the next strike across the first two. She whimpered, rising up to her hands and trying to escape the pain of further punishment. I clutched her to my chest and grabbed a lead rope off the wall, wrapping it around her wrists while she fought to get free.
Eventually subduing the woman so desperate to escape her punishment, I pressed her forward until she laid against the table once more. I hit her across the ass and the tops of her thighs with five quick strikes of the riding crop against her flesh, getting harder with every whimper she released.
I knew Isa well enough to know that when I put my fingers between her legs, my hand would come away soaked with her. I hit the top of her ass one last time, tossing the crop to the side and slipping two fingers into her drenched pussy. She moaned in spite of the pain that lit her ass on fire and the defiance I saw in her green gaze as she turned her face back to glare at me.
Using my other hand, I pulled the bottle of lube I'd grabbed from the bedroom when Isa had been in the tub out of my pocket and released my cock from my jeans. Spreading lube all over it, I pulled my fingers free of Isa's pussy and moved them to her ass. Pressing a finger into the tight bud of flesh, she hissed and tried to wiggle her way away from me. "Don't you fucking dare!" she growled, the warning echoing in the small tack room while I chuckled.
I added a second finger, spreading her open just enough to take my cock without tearing her. I wanted to hurt her, wanted her to feel the sting of me gliding through her tender flesh.
I wanted her to feel the sting of my hips smacking against the marks on her ass.
"It isn't like my pussy needs this cock," I argued, pulling my fingers free and lining my length up. I pressed inside her slowly, letting her body open for me as she forced herself to relax into the intrusion. Usually when I took her ass, I played with her pussy to add pleasure to the unique pain.
I refused to do that this time around, leaving her to squirm beneath me as she took inch after inch in her ass. She whimpered when my hips touched the red marks from the crop, and I grabbed her by the rope that tied her hands together behind her back. Using it to hold her steady, I set a slow but harsh rhythm inside her.
Fucking her. Using her to get off.
Our reunion should have been in our bed with me making love to her. Instead it was in a tack room with her whipped and tied up.
Either one worked for me, so Isa had only punished herself in the end. "Rafael, please," she begged.
"Do you even know what you're asking me for? Do you want me to stop?" I asked, not waiting for the response before I fucked her harder. Taking her in harsher strokes that made her cry out with each glide of my cock inside her. "Well?"
"I don't know!" she screamed, the sound accompanied by a harsh cry that soothed the rough edges of my anger. Taking pity on her, I drove myself toward my release, working her over until I came inside her with a grunt. Pulling back from her, I untied her hands as I zipped myself into my jeans.
She straightened her body, turning to face me with a wince. Dropping my hands to her jeans, I moved to help her pull them back up. "You hit me!" she accused, swatting my hands away as she worked her pants up and over her tender ass.
"You liked it," I reminded her with a smirk. "You wouldn't even be that mad if I'd gotten you off."
"Maybe I should do it myself," she snarled. "Since I don't need your cock." Unable to fight back my amusement, I grinned at her. Guiding her toward the bathroom off the tack room so we could clean up before heading back to the house, I couldn’t resist the laughter that caught in my throat.
"Princesa, if you want me to spank your ass some more all you have to do is ask."
She got out of the car with a huff, slamming the door and making her way into the house as quickly as her sore ass would allow. The fabric of her jeans must have hurt her skin with every move despite the underwear she wore beneath them, but she did her best to not let me see the physical pain that was a consequence of her defiance.
I was sure the swelling in my greedy little pussy didn't help matters since I'd left her neglected and desperate for my cock. Once her anger abated, she'd have a more difficult time keeping me from seeing the symptoms of that. I'd gladly give her what she needed, but only after she admitted she wanted me.
After she gave me the words she so often kept from me.
I followed behind her, striding into the front doors of the house. Aaron met me at the door, stepping into my path with a solemn expression written on his face. I turned my gaze to watch as Isa settled herself in the breakfast nook, perching carefully with her eyes on the chess set on the small table that was so rarely used. She winced with pain as her ass hit the wood, but refused to give up and go to bed.
She'd need aftercare when she stopped being so stubborn. "Joaquín y su esposa se fueron al bosque," Aaron said, gathering my attention as the words struck me in the chest. Joaquin and your wife went into the woods.
"Qué hicieron ellos?" I asked. What did they do?
"No lo sé, Señor Ibarra," he admitted. "I did not follow them."
"Thank you, Aaron," I said, dismissing one of the younger men who worked security around the house. I turned my attention back to Isa, watching as she studied the chess board thoughtfully. When her eyes came back to mine, she froze solid with her hand in mid-air. Her breath hitched and she swallowed, and I knew without a doubt.
Mi princesa was hiding something.
Rage boiled my blood, but I turned my back on her to walk toward my office. I kept my steps as light as I could as I turned on the gas fireplace in the corner and brought it roaring to life, grabbing the three irons out of the cupboard where I kept them and chucking the ends into the flames.
I watched the fire dance over the irons, staring at the very different marks for a moment before I turned and stormed past where Isa still sat dumbstruck and slid out the back doors. "Rafe!" she called out, a commotion coming from inside as I hurried across the yard.
Joaquin stood in the clearing where the pyre would burn if I had any patience for delivering his mark another day, but given his latest betrayal involved my wife, I wasn't certain he would live to receive it. He stood still, waiting for my wrath to fall upon him as I approached. When he was within reach, my fist connected with his jaw so hard that he stumbled and nearly fell to the ground.
"Rafe!" Isa called again as she hurried out the back doors of the house and tried to follow me. Her aching body slowed her down, giving me a few precious moments with Joaquin before I would have to remind her what happened when she defended other men.
I would put him in the ground and never regret a moment of it if she dared to interfere.
"Did you touch my wife?" I asked, jabbing him in the nose. Blood sprayed my knuckles, but still he didn't fight back.
"Yes," he said. "I touched her." The raging fury inside me cooled to an ice I had never felt before, a cold and sharp thing that no longer cared if he suffered.
I just wanted him dead.
"Rafe! It's not what you think," Isa said, stumbling into the clearing. She step
ped up to me, taking my hand in her grip despite Joaquin's blood on it. She gasped for breath, but when I looked at her I felt nothing but the shards of a betrayal that went far deeper than I could have ever imagined. "He taught me to fight," she wheezed. "That's all."
"So you did not fuck the man I left to keep you safe?" I asked, tilting my head to the side as she stared up at me in fear. Whether that fear was for herself or Joaquin, I couldn't know. I didn't think I wanted to know, because the unfortunate reality for mi reina was that she should very much be afraid for what the consequences of her betrayal would be.
"No!" she gasped. "How could you think that? It's only ever been you," she said, soothing some of the sharp edges, but my anger still pulsed within me.
She'd defied me with another man.
"Do you want to?" I asked, lashing out with my other hand and catching her around the throat. "Would you like me to bend you over so he can fuck your pretty little ass just like I do?"
"Rafael, stop it!" she yelled as I did just that, bending her over in front of me. Joaquin didn't move, didn't so much as twitch or glance down at the obscene position that put her jean clad ass in the air. "I don't want anyone but you. You're my husband," she whimpered.
Hearing those words from her, I knew without a doubt they were a manipulation. A reminder that I should be gentle with her, that I should be a good husband to my wife. But she hadn't married a good man. She'd married a man who put a gun to her head to claim her. She'd married a man who would kill anyone who thought to take away what was mine.
"You did something I explicitly forbade," I reminded her. "Did you think there would not be consequences for that?"
"The consequences should be mine to pay. It was my decision," she begged, her face leaning forward toward the ground. I released her, stepping back and putting distance between us as I glared over at Joaquin.
"I'll meet you in my office," I ordered him. He nodded, glancing to Isa unsurely but left us in peace so that I could deal with my rebellious woman. She stood up straight, staring me in the face as Joaquin entered the house and disappeared behind me. Her bottom lip trembled, but she glared at me all the same.
"If you'd have just taught me yourself, this wouldn't have happened," she said, jutting her chin up. "You want to leave me vulnerable, but you like it when I challenge you. How am I supposed to make sense of what is tolerable and what isn't when you give me so many mixed signals?"
"I will give you a hint, Princesa," I growled. "If it involves another man, you do not disobey me. I do not care if I've forbidden you from looking at him or speaking to him, you do what you're fucking told."
She swallowed. "Don't punish him for what I asked him to do. Punish me instead. It was my choice."
"Did he or did he not know that I would disapprove when he agreed to it? Because as much as you may like to think Joaquin or Hugo or Gabriel are your friends, they are my men. They answer to me alone. He stood here and waited for his penance because he knew it would come. He betrayed my trust anyway, so he'll pay the price." I turned, stalking toward the house and expecting Isa to follow. She didn't, standing still in the clearing and glaring at me instead. "Come here," I ordered, watching as she ground her teeth together but forced her feet to move.
She strode past me, walking quickly to make her way into the house before me. When she thought to sidetrack to the bedroom, I caught her hand in my harsh grip and squeezed it in warning as I dragged her toward my office and the brands waiting there. I shoved her toward the sofa, sitting her down with a glare before turning my attention to Joaquin where he knelt on the floor shirtless.
He kept his head bowed, submissive despite the tension in his body. "Don't do something you'll regret," he murmured to me, darting his eyes off to the side to glance at Isa where she sat with her hands curled around the cushion.
"What I do with my wife is none of your concern," I reminded him, stripping off my t-shirt and grabbing the glove from the cabinet by the fireplace. I slid it onto my hand, grabbing the brand for his mark from the fire and eyeing the red-hot iron. He didn't flinch as I touched it to his chest, adding a fourth tally to his sins against me. His failures.
It was a miracle I allowed him to live, because if he reached seven?
He'd be exiled from El Infierno. He'd leave behind the only true home he'd ever known and become someone else's problem.
No matter who might miss him.
"Get out." I tossed the iron back to the fire, turning my attention away from him. He stood, gathering up his shirt and retreating from the office without another word. Isa stayed where I'd left her on the sofa, watching me warily as I turned furious eyes to her. "Do you know what happens when a man reaches seven failures on my island?" I asked her, stepping over to the sofa. My hot gloved hand touched the back of it and burned the leather as I leaned into her space. Glaring down at her wide stare, I used my other hand to grasp her around the jaw and force her to hold my gaze when she wanted to escape it.
"No," she whispered.
"If the sins are small? I send him away. If they're more problematic than that, I kill him," I said, feeling the motion in her throat as she worked to swallow. "Would you like to be responsible for Joaquin's death?"
"So if I want to leave, all I have to do is defy you seven times?" she snarled, challenging me as she leaned closer into my space despite the fear making her tremble.
"No, mi reina. You are the only person who is a prisoner here. You have no rights like freedom. Not when you're mine," I said, standing tall and backing away from her. I grabbed one of the brands out of the fire, studying the shape at the end intently. Isa watched me with a trembling lip, wincing when I held out my left forearm and stared at the part of the tattoo that matched the brand perfectly.
She watched in horror as I pressed the end to my skin, searing the flesh on my arm with gritted teeth. When I pulled it back and set it back in the flames, Isa stared down at the red skin in shock.
The words mi reina stood out more in red amongst the sea of black tattoo ink on my forearm. That would only be more true when the wound healed and the skin raised.
Just like Isa's.
32
Isa
"Tattoos can be covered up or removed, unfortunately. But a brand is forever, mi reina," he said. His skin burned in an angry red color as he turned toward his desk and swept everything on top onto the floor. "Come here," he ordered, raising a brow at me when I refused to move. "Now," he growled.
I shook my head, flinching back into the sofa as he approached. "Don't!" I yelled out the moment his hand wrapped around my wrist and he pulled me up to stand. The few steps to the desk felt like a lifetime, an eternity passing before he brought me to stand next to the same surface where he'd tattooed me instead of branding me.
Somehow it felt like we'd always been meant to end up right back here.
He tore the shirt off my head while I struggled, my bra following, and then he tore my pants and underwear down my legs, pulling them off my feet along with my boots. He lifted me onto the desk while I struggled against the harshness of his grip, depositing me on the edge. The cool wood stung the marks on my ass, drawing a pained gasp from my lips that I somehow knew would be nothing compared to the pain that was to come. "I will never forgive you for this."
"You will," he said with a condescending laugh. "You would forgive me for anything, Princesa. Because this is what it is to love a man like me." He pressed a hand to my chest, easing me onto my back on the desk. I glared up at him, waiting until he turned to go back for the branding iron in the fire. The moment his back was turned, I scrambled off the desk and for the other side of the office.
As futile as it would probably be, I couldn't just lie back and take it.
"Get over here so I can fuck you while I mark you as mine permanently," he warned, dropping his hands to his jeans and undoing them to pull himself free. He stroked his ungloved hand over his cock, the already hard flesh offering resistance to his hand. "Did I not warn you what would happe
n the next time you disobeyed me? You knew what was at stake, and you did it anyway. Now come and accept your penance."
I shook my head at him, wincing when he closed the distance between us with the speed of the devil, grasping me around the neck and maneuvering me back to the desk. He laid me down on top of it with more force, my back aching as it hit the surface with a sharp thump. He moved back to grab the last branding iron quickly, holding it in his gloved hand as he used his other one to spread my legs and insert himself between my thighs.
I glared up at him, wincing when he shoved inside me with one brutal thrust. I was still wet from his display in the barn, but my pussy clenched around him with the lack of preparation. He leaned forward over the edge of the desk to meet my eyes as he grabbed my arm and pulled it down next to my body. I squirmed beneath him as he brought the iron close to my skin. The heat was unbearable, even without it touching me. "Hold still," he warned.
"Don't," I begged with tears streaming down my face suddenly. He wouldn't back out a second time. He wouldn't show me mercy, because the devil didn't have any. "Rafe."
He moved inside me, gliding through tender tissue to pull back and press deep once more. When I was filled with him, he lined up the iron and pressed it to my skin. The skin sizzled as I screamed, my entire being narrowing down on the excruciating pain as I tried to get away, but Rafe only held me tighter.
Nothing else existed as I burned, my breaths coming in fast pants as my head went fuzzy and consciousness slipped away. "Shhh," Rafe soothed, drawing the brand away finally and tossing it into the fire. He shifted me higher up on the desk, laying his weight over mine and cupping my face in his hands as he moved between my legs.
Full awareness returned slowly, his face gentle as I blinked up at him. My arm started to numb as he stroked my face, laying his mouth against mine to coax me into an affectionate kiss. As if the mark on my skin took away the mark on his soul that I'd left by disobeying him. "It hurts," I whimpered, though I was grateful for the steady numbing as my nerve endings died.
Until Forever Ends: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 21
