“Say something,” she sputtered after a while, needing him to talk to her, to tell her what he thought—to tell her he believed her.
“Take the dress off.”
She paused, not sure she’d heard him right. “What?”
“Take. The. Dress. Off.”
“Why?”
Marc pulled his towel off and discarded it on the floor before walking over to one of his open bags. He began fishing through for something, ignoring her.
When he turned back to her, a small bag in hand, he frowned, seeing she hadn’t done as he’d asked. “I said to take the dress off.” He stormed over to her and pulled the dress from over her head. She gawked at him, shocked at what he’d done, but also angry. How dare he?
“When I tell you to do something, you obey.”
He was out of his ever-loving mind. “Obey?” she said with a chuckle. “I don’t think so.”
He moved closer, his voice getting very low. “You’re in need of punishment.”
She shivered. “If you’re angry with me, this is not the way to take it out on me.”
Marc grabbed the back of her head and drew her closer. “I won the game this afternoon, so I get what I want. What I want is you, naked on that bed, tied to it so I can spank you. And trust me, you need to be spanked.”
He hadn’t hurt her with his touch, more shocked her than anything. Marc slowly released her, and she took a step back. He pulled her back close to him and captured her mouth with his, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth to sweep between her teeth. His kiss wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t harsh, either. Again, she couldn’t get a read on his emotions and that left her feeling unsure of what he was doing.
Marc lowered a hand to cup her sex, one finger sliding between her folds. She was wet for him, even in her uncertainty. Her body reacted without her brain at times, the many orgasms he’d rendered from her body giving him some kind of claim to her flesh. A moan slipped from her lips as he added another finger to her pussy and finger fucked her a few times, caressing her g-spot.
And as quickly as he pulled her close, he was gone. She felt bereft, cold and alone standing there without his touch.
Marc headed over to the bed and checked the cuffs still affixed to the headboard. Sofia watched the muscles working in his strong, smooth back and wished she knew what was going on in his head. He looked over his shoulder at her. “Get on the bed. On your hands and knees.”
She did as she was bid, her body moving without conscious choice. Climbing onto the top, she searched his face. Sofia didn’t see any remnants of anger, but she also knew he was The Iceman. He was a master at hiding his emotions. “What are you going to do to me?”
Marc looked up from what he was doing, their gazes locking. “What I told you I planned to do when we got home.”
A shiver raced up Sofia’s spine. She’d wanted him to cuff her again. She’d even come to terms with what he’d planned, but she wouldn’t let him punish her if he was mad. She knelt before him and grabbed his chin in one hand. She eyed him close, looking for a flinch or for him to look away. He did neither, his face blank.
Marc lifted an eyebrow, impatience crossing his handsome features. He gently pulled away from her hand and nodded for her to get into position. Sofia did, and he quickly bound one of her wrists with the soft, black cuff. On her knees, her hands were fixed to the headboard by a short length. She watched him binding her, almost separated from the action, a third party hovering away from what was happening.
When both her hands were bound, he walked to the end of the bed. She glanced over her shoulder, watching his every movement. Marc lifted a short flogger from his treasure box and trailed one hand through the leather strips as he walked back to her. His gaze caught hers as he then rubbed that same hand over her ass cheeks. Once he’d circled them both, he dropped a spank to her flesh, causing her to jump. A light squeal came from her lips. She hadn’t been prepared for the spank.
It hadn’t hurt, more a testing strike against her flesh.
Marc struck her again, his hand stinging a little more as he was used more strength. Heat flooded her ass, and a tingle erupted just under the skin. He added another strike from his hand before using the flogger on her.
Sofia hissed as the flogger struck her. The little sting of pain was shockingly pleasurable. She turned, unable to watch what he did to her. The flogger came across her ass, the pain never too much, but varied in delivery. She didn’t know when to expect the next, or then he’d change to a volley of several.
Her skin became hot, the strikes stinging her more, even though he never became much rougher. She clenched her teeth against each one, her body thrumming and singing, feeling more alive than she could ever remember. Sofia could feel her juices flowing, so much so her inner thighs were wet. Rivulets of her cream dripped down her legs, which embarrassed her more than anything. Her traitorous body wanted this attention. Marc had turned her into a heavy mass of nerves and desires, a wicked wanton.
She turned to watch him and was shocked by how calm and controlled he appeared at first. His face was still void of emotion, but the longer she watched him, there were little tells she saw to prove he was as affected as she was. His breathing was slightly shallow and when he turned to look at her, his eyes were glazed over. Marc couldn’t hide his need, no matter how hard he tried to hold it back from her. He was aroused.
His heavy, jutting cock stood out proudly between his thighs, his balls tight to the base. A pearl of cum eased from the tip and shone in the low light. Her tongue peaked out of its own accord, the desire to taste his pleasure overwhelming her.
“Are you a bad girl, Sofia?”
Sofia caught his gaze, her lungs burning from the breath she held. She liked what he was doing to her. Did that make her bad? “Yessss…”
He smiled wanly. “You are. And you needed to be punished.”
Marc struck her a little harder with the flogger. The caress of the leather made her cry out, her skin already flayed. As the pain ebbed, the pleasure rushed in, and was increased by the kiss he laid on the same spot. “But I think that’s enough punishment for your first offense,” he said, his voice still calm.
That calmness was almost scarier than his anger. He should’ve been mad. He should’ve yelled. That she could understand. This control she didn’t know how to take. Did she think offering herself up, trusting him to not harm her, that he’d return the same trust back in her? His words came back to haunt her suddenly. Just because you shared a personal moment with me doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do the same.
Marc spun her to her back, the first contact of the bed on her raw skin making her hiss. Her hands were crossed over one another, the soft cuff twisting to allow the move without pain. Marc climbed into the bed and between her legs, his cock nudging against her wet entrance. She arched her back, needing to be filled by his length. In those moments, when they were bound as one, him deep within her depths, she felt their connection.
He pressed into her, again uncovered. The heat of his cock stoked the fires within her. When he was seated in her, his gaze found hers and held it for long moments. Sofia thought she saw something there, a warmth, a flicker of intense need in his eyes. But he cut off the emotion, whatever it was, and it was gone before she could identify it.
Marc started moving within her, the pressure against her bottom reminding her of the touch of the flogger against her skin. The pleasure of each of his thrusts was punctuated with a sting from her rear. It kept her on the razor’s edge between the two and focused on the thick thrusts of his cock.
He stretched her pussy wide with his girth. She could feel every single spot his cock touched within her, her sense of touch insanely elevated due to the pain he’d caused. Sofia cried out with every stroke. Marc filled her over and over again, each slick slide incredibly better than the last.
Was this what the pain caused? Her mind had been rewired, her body coaxed and tempted into a frenzy of need.
When his fing
ers found her clit and toyed with the nub as he increased his tempo, she was already so close. He circled her clit, his lips finding hers. She tugged on the straps about her wrists, wanting to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer. Sofia lifted her head to kiss him more aggressively, the one way to keep him at her mouth. She needed to taste him, to have him connected to her here as well.
She screamed against his lips when she came, and he swallowed her cries. Her body shuddered as wave after wave crashed against her, her pussy clenching around his length. Her orgasm stretched, the intensity bringing tears to her eyes, her toes curling as he continued to thrust within her.
As Sofia came down off the high, she felt his cock judder inside her and his body tightened. Marc cried out, lifting his upper body up and away from her as he came. She could feel the thick ropes of cum warming her from the inside out.
When he was done, his gazed at her and gave her a gentle kiss. He immediately unhooked her hands before withdrawing from her body.
Marc stood and walked into the bathroom, leaving her there to wonder what had just happened between them. Yes, she’d agreed to the game and him getting what he wanted, but at what cost to her?
There was no give and take between them. She’d fallen for him and was giving him all. Sofia needed more back from him. She needed his love. She needed his gentle words and fingers. She needed him to hold her in his arms after an experience like that, not rush off and leave a void between them.
But then, he’d asked for a mistress, nothing more.
He’d won the game and had reaped his rewards. And even though she didn’t want to admit it, she’d liked the rough play, the spanks, and even the flogger. It just hadn’t been the time or the place for it. Marc had wanted it, so he’d taken what he needed, not considering her needs.
Sofia had allowed her emotions to get involved. She’d given in to his needs in hoping he’d open to her and share part of himself with her. Lying there alone, she realized she’d given him too much, expected too much. She’d deluded herself into thinking more could come between them.
Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. She was stronger than that, and he wouldn’t bring her to that point. She might have had a moment of weakness, thinking she could give in to him and get his love, but after the stark sexual experience, she now understood the truth.
Marc came back into the room, a washcloth and a tube of something in hand. He lay across the bed and rolled her to her side, the cool air flowing over her heated bottom. Once he got her into position, he rubbed the warm cloth over her skin, cleaning it gently. Then he moved between her legs, wiping away the remnants of their lusts. When he was done, he tossed the cloth to the nightstand and then opened the tube of some clear gel. He rubbed it over her ass, the soothing oil cooling her burning flesh.
“Are you coming to dinner?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Dinner? I thought you were having it delivered?”
Marc nodded. “I did. They brought it a few moments ago.”
Shame filled Sofia. She hadn’t heard any movement outside the room and was embarrassed at the thought of others hearing her spanked and flogged. Not sure when they’d come, she had no idea what the hotel workers had heard and not heard.
“You knew they were here and didn’t stop?” she asked, livid.
“They brought us breakfast before while we were making love. What’s the difference?”
There was a huge difference. She got up and started to throw her belongings into her bags. She’d been a fool to agree to this, and the fact he didn’t see what they’d shared tonight was any different than what they’d shared on those sensual mornings showed how little he cared about how it had impacted her.
“What are you doing?” he asked, anger invading his tone.
“I’m leaving,” she spat. She wasn’t sure why she was as angry as she felt, but she sensed she was approaching critical mass. They didn’t need to be in the same spot if and when that happened.
Silence met her answer.
“You promised to remain with me during my exile.”
Sofia spun to glare at him. “I can’t do this. I thought I could become your mistress and stay here in paradise with you, but I can’t.”
“Why? So you can go run off and write your story?”
Marc was still stuck on that. He didn’t believe her. “I told you I’m not writing the story. I didn’t plan on it, even when I agreed on the phone. I can’t do confrontation, and it was easier to tell him yes than to continue the argument. And I see that’s what I did with you. I gave in to your needs because I wanted to prove I trusted you, in hopes you’d trust me in return. But at the first moment, you throw it back in my face.”
“You seem to be doing confrontation well enough now.”
She looked up from her packing and caught his gaze again. “You’ve pushed me to it. You take and you take and after tonight I have nothing left to give you.”
“What did you expect me to give?” he asked. “You’re my mistress. It’s a sexual relationship.”
The tears threatened again. She pushed them back and refused to shed even one. “You’re right. I was wrong. I’m not as cool headed and hearted as you are, so I let my emotions get in my head and get all this twisted. But no worries, I’ll be leaving so you don’t have to deal with anything as messy as feelings.”
Marc walked up to her and spun her to face him. “I told you exactly what I wanted. I was never unclear, so don’t point fingers and tell me I’m at fault because your heart got in the way of your head.”
And there it was.
The truth stung. “My bruised heart and I will get out of your hair.”
His eyes widened, and there was almost a maniacal look in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and stepped back. “Do what you feel you need to do.”
He spun and stalked from the room, leaving her alone once more.
She numbly packed her bags and drew on the dress he’d taken off her. After fishing out her panties, she pulled them on as she heard a knock on the door. She wandered through the living space, eyeing the laden table filled with now wasted food.
A bellhop stood at the door, a gentle smile on his face. “Mr. Anders said you would need help with your luggage?”
“Yes, yes I do.”
The bellhop came in and then followed her to the bedroom. He lifted the bags she had collected and waited for her beside the bedroom door as she double-checked everything, hoping she’d gotten everything.
“The concierge has been instructed to help you. If you’ll follow me to the front desk,” the bellhop said, his voice calm.
Her chest tightened. Marc was so bipolar at times. Even furious, he secured help for her escape. Or maybe he just wanted to ensure he was rid of her. Either way, he was again throwing money at a problem, which seemed to be his modus operandi.
She followed the bellhop through the door and willed herself not to look back.
Chapter Thirteen
Marc hung to the edge of the deck, his body almost completely submerged, as he watched Sofia leaving. His chest ached. The need to stop her, to apologize for being a dickhead was strong, but the anger he had prevented him from listening to his own gut.
He’d started to trust her, and then he’d heard the call, shattering that trust. When she’d turned to him and told him she wasn’t going to write it, he’d believed her. There had been something in her eyes, in her tone, that had made him believe her words.
Then the instinct to control her, to claim her and make her his had overridden everything in his head. He’d been swamped with the need to make her submit. And that need had taken over, even as he’d seen the doubt written over her face.
Yes her body had surrendered, but he’d not had all of her. The trust between them had been shaky ground, and he’d demanded more of her than he should have. In his rush to have what he needed, he hadn’t considered her needs, at all. Rule number one with submissio
n was that she was truly in charge, even bound. He’d ignored that rule and for that, he deserved to watch her walk away from him and never turn back.
He’d been an idiot.
There was also her reaction. She’d enjoyed what he’d done to her, yet in her current mental state, she more than likely couldn’t process it. She didn’t trust him enough to talk it out, and that was his fault, again.
Running after her now was pointless. He’d hurt her terribly, and she needed time to think and process what had happened, without him possibly saying or doing the wrong thing and only making it worse. They’d not been together long enough, nor had he given her ample reason, to make him redeemable in her eyes. Sofia might not ever get over what he’d done. Once she was out of sight, he pulled himself up to the deck and lay across the smooth wooden planks. The cooling night air ran over his body, and he stared up at the stars above, wondering why things had happened the way they had.
The longer he lay there, the more he missed Sofia.
Mumbling under his breath, he got up and went to find his cell phone. He punched up Max’s number and quickly dialed it.
After a few rings, he heard a groggy, “hello?”
Marc hadn’t considered the time change. There he went being a dick again. “Have you heard anything from the commissioner?”
“Marc? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Not really,” Marc answered, feeling even worse.
“It’s two a.m. When it’s a decent hour, I’ll call you and we’ll talk, okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” he said.
“Goodnight,” Max said and clicked off the phone.
Marc stared at his phone, wanting to talk to someone. Anyone.
No, that wasn’t true either. There was only one person he wanted to talk to right now, but he couldn’t. Apologies churned in his head, but he couldn’t voice them. Not yet. He needed time as well to understand the emotional response he’d had to her.
Tackling Her Heart Page 9
