by S. Walden
“Then do it,” he replied.
“I’m resentful of you!”
“Then show me.”
She wasn’t expecting an invitation. She stood, momentarily confused, waiting for him to rescind his offer. But he didn’t, so she drove a fist into his chest. It wasn’t a hard hit. It was tentative, like she was testing him out. Did he mean it, and could he handle it once her hesitation turned into full-out fury?
“Show me,” he urged. “If that’ll make you feel better.”
This time she didn’t hesitate. She beat on his chest harder, making him stumble backwards slightly. She slapped his face over and over—one cheek, then the other—her hand stinging from the hit and his stubble. She pushed against his shoulders in an attempt to knock him to the floor. He took each blow, accepting punishment for his deceit, knowing it was deserved and justified.
“You LIAR!” she screamed in his face.
He nodded.
“I can’t trust you!”
She pounded his upper arm.
“I HATE you!
She slapped his face with all the force her 100-pound body could muster.
Mark grunted and blinked until he no longer saw stars.
She didn’t know how long she pummeled him. She thought he deserved at least an hour of it, but her hands started aching, and she grew tired.
“You . . . you . . .”
She dropped her arms and stood staring at him. She thought she was supposed to cry for her pain, but she had no tears. Her heart was detached, unfeeling. She wanted to be close to him, but the wedge between them was thick and unyielding, and she feared it would divide them permanently.
“You have to forgive me, Cadence,” Mark said quietly. “You can’t carry around that resentment, or we won’t survive it.”
Cadence nodded.
“I’m just so angry with you. It’s taken root in my heart, this anger. It’s grown a monumental hatred that’s made me crazy. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
Mark reached out and took her hand. She let him.
“I know I acted out. I know I frightened you when I wouldn’t call. I know I hurt your feelings when I wouldn’t show up for dates, wouldn’t spend time with you. I just didn’t know how to punish you enough. Every time I did something ugly, it only made me want to do something else even uglier. I got addicted to it—seeing you hurt. Because it provided me a little measure of satisfaction. ‘Good,’ I thought. ‘He hurts as much as I do.’”
“You had a right to feel that way,” Mark said.
“You hurt my feelings. You made me feel like I wasn’t important to you—just some stupid girl with nothing special about her. I can’t shake those words you said to me. I think the damage is irreparable.”
“I hate that I said those things, Cadence. I didn’t believe them at all. I would have never pursued you if I didn’t see something special in you. Something worth cherishing. You’ve been my savior—that person who showed me how to feel again. How to love again.”
Cadence sighed. “I don’t know how to get back to where we were,” she whispered.
“We may never get back there. We may have to find a new place. A better place.”
She hung her head.
“But that’s worth doing, right?” he asked. “I want to find a new, better place with you.”
She nodded, and he picked her up, encircling her waist with his arms and rocking her side to side the way he did the first time she visited him at his apartment. He was surprised at the soreness he felt from her blows. She was little, but she packed a mighty punch.
“You still love her.” Cadence didn’t state it as a question.
Mark was silent for a moment, contemplating his response. She may not like it, but he would never lie to her again. So he told her the truth.
“Yes. There’s a place in my heart that will always be with her. But you . . .” He inhaled her scent, then pressed his lips to her ear. “. . . you are my heart.”
And that’s when the healing began. She no longer resisted. The anger started to melt, and she tightened her arms around Mark’s neck to keep from slipping out of his grasp. He answered her by crushing her little body to his.
“Kiss me,” he whispered.
She pressed her lips to his timidly. It had been a long time since she kissed him with feeling. It was strange, like she was doing it for the first time. He was patient with her, letting her search his mouth. He wanted to be aggressive. He wanted to bruise her lips, but now was not the time. She drew his bottom lip into her mouth before opening hers in an invitation for his tongue. He gave it to her, and she sucked it before biting it.
He flinched and drew back.
“Are you finished punishing me?” he asked.
She smiled the prettiest little wicked smile he’d ever seen, and he was glad for it—glad that it acted as justification for what he planned next.
“Good,” he purred. “Because now it’s your turn.”
Her smile vanished, and her body went rigid. He set her on her feet, then stood at his full height.
“What are you talking about?”
Her voice was so small that for a moment, he almost decided against it. Until he remembered last week when she disappeared for three days, then returned home with no explanation. Only a straight-up bitchy attitude.
“I let you punish me because I deserved it. And now you need to be punished for the way you acted,” Mark said.
“I had a right to act that way,” Cadence argued. She took a step back.
“Maybe, but if there are no consequences for how you treated me, how do I know you won’t do it again and again?”
Cadence’s eyes went wide. “I wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I know you won’t,” Mark said. “Come here.”
“No.”
“Cadence, don’t make it worse.”
“I’m not a fucking child!” She stamped her foot.
“I didn’t say you were. This doesn’t have anything to do with that. This has to do with reparations.”
“I . . . I’m sorry I did those things,” she said quickly. “I told you I’m sorry!”
“I know that. And now I’m gonna make sure you mean it.” He reached out for her, but she evaded his grasp. He sighed patiently. “Cadence, come here.”
“No!” she cried, running to the opposite side of the bedroom.
“You wanna make it worse?”
“You’re sick!” she screamed.
“How so? You don’t even know what I have planned,” he said matter-of-factly.
He watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest, and grinned. He couldn’t help it. Her fear fed his resolve, and he was going to act on it. He was going to restore this relationship, once and for all.
“I’ll bend you over that bed myself if I have to,” he said evenly.
“You wanna hurt me,” Cadence whispered. Her voice shook.
“No. No, I don’t. But I will. And you’ll deserve every bit of it.”
He waited for the transformation. She was no pushover—not like he’d been for months. And sure enough, he saw her fear turn to absolute rage.
“No!” She offered it up like a challenge.
“I gave you your space and time because I love and respect you. I let you act like a little bitch for two straight months because I love you. I let you worry the shit out of me because I love you. I let you break my heart because I love you. And now? Now, I’m gonna beat your ass.” He paused to let this information sink in, watching her eyes light up with defiance. “Because I love you.”
Cadence glimpsed the bedroom door, wondering if she had enough time to run to it, turn the knob, and make her escape before he grabbed her. She thought she didn’t, but she had no choice. She had to try.
She sprinted, and he scooped her up before her fingers even touched the knob.
“No!” she screamed, squirming to break free from his grasp.
He ignored her, walking to the edge of the bed and standing her beside it.
“Bend over.”
“Fuck you.”
“Bend over, Cadence.”
“I hate you!”
“God, you’re a stubborn little thing,” he said. He stood behind her, body pressed close, and whispered in her ear, “I’m doing this one way or the other. You either bend over, or I’ll bend you over. And you don’t want me to bend you over.”
She whipped around for another assault with her fists, but he was too quick. He pinned her hands behind her back and pushed her neatly on the bed, face first. She twisted, grunted, and screamed. He paid her no mind as he tugged on her cotton shorts. She made it too easy for him. Elastic waistband. No panties. Had she been wearing jeans, he would have had to negotiate with her, and that would have taken all the fun out of it.
He stared at her naked ass and drew in his breath.
Control, he said to himself. Control, thinking absurdly of that MGMT song. He smiled.
“Cadence?”
No reply.
“I’m only gonna take what I need,” he explained.
She tried for guilt. “You’re a monster and you don’t love me! If you love me you wouldn’t—”
His palm came down with a sudden, swift smack! It bit her skin—the sting of fire ants.
“Shit!”
“I know,” Mark said. His tone was neither placating nor sympathetic.
She tried to twist her hands free, and he spanked her harder. She screamed.
“Lie still, Cadence,” he ordered, smacking her a third time. He grew hard watching her plump little bottom bounce.
Control. Control it.
“I get it!” she cried. “I get it, and I won’t ever do those things again!”
He struck her bare ass over and over until he made her cry. She cried! And while she didn’t want him to know it, she secretly reveled in it—the tears running steadily from her eyes to soak the comforter. She was crying. Feeling something. After a month! Feeling!
He eased up, rubbing her gently to erase the sting. She realized she liked it, and thought that was wrong.
“Stop doing that!” she snapped.
“Fine,” he replied, and slapped her again.
He watched the blood rush to her cheeks, reddening all the places his hand touched her. He realized it wasn’t enough. He wanted to see a print. She deserved a fucking handprint. Maybe two.
He spanked her harder and listened as she squealed into the comforter. And again and again until she cried out his name.
“Yes?” he asked, hand poised for another assault.
“I won’t ever do it again,” she gasped.
“I know, Sweet Cheeks.”
Her body tensed—reacting to his words. Was he trying to be clever? She thought so, and she let out a string of the filthiest words she could imagine. They mingled with the tears that pooled in the corners of her lips.
Cadence swore Mark spanked her all afternoon. It felt like the whole afternoon to her. In reality, he spanked her for two minutes, making sure her bottom was significantly red and swollen when it was all over. And he succeeded in leaving a perfect handprint. He imagined it burned painfully.
He released her hands and sank down on the bed beside her. She remained still, unsure of his next move.
He sighed. “Fucking you doesn’t work.”
“What?” She spoke into the comforter, unable to look at him.
He smirked. “You know. The classroom closet?”
Her face burned, remembering. Even after all this time together, she still blushed about that afternoon.
“I figured since that didn’t work, I needed to try something else,” Mark said. He pushed his hand through his unruly hair. “I gave you two months to walk all over me.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“You worried me to death.”
“I know.”
“I was frantic. Every time you stayed the night somewhere I thought someone stole you away from me.” He felt a tiny bit of resentment creep back into his heart and tried hard to push it down. Otherwise, he’d spank her again.
“I know,” she replied.
“Then show me,” Mark said.
Cadence lifted her face. “You wanna have sex after that?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I need you to love me. You haven’t loved me in two months.”
“Don’t try to make me feel guilty for feeling hurt and angry.”
“I’m not. I told you I understood. But I’m asking you now—if you’ve really forgiven me—to please love me.”
He pulled her to a sitting position. Her backside screamed, but she remained silent. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Mark stood and undressed, watching her closely. She averted her eyes, like she was embarrassed by his nakedness. He understood that, too. They had gone so long without connecting that it seemed natural she’d turn away. He watched her face flush crimson, thinking their lovemaking might feel like the first time, and he wondered if she thought the same.
“I don’t remember,” she cried softly. “I’m scared.”
“Me too.” And he was. But he’d work through his fear because he had to have her right then. He’d make up for punishing her. He hoped she’d do the same.
He leaned forward and kissed her gently, encouraging her to lie on her back, nudging her legs apart.
“My butt hurts,” she said into his mouth, and he chuckled.
“I’m not sorry, Cadence. But I know you’ll work your hardest to try to make me.”
She pouted and pushed him off her. “Go sit against the headboard.”
He complied, and she climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs. No pressure on her bottom, and she breathed relief.
“You’re wet,” he said.
“Am not,” she replied, but she knew it was a lie. She was mortified that his spankings forced a sexual response. Blatant and dripping. She couldn’t hide it when her legs were spread on top of him.
He reached for her shirt and pulled it over her head. She didn’t like being so exposed to him. She was embarrassed, and instinctively covered her breasts.
“Why won’t you let me look at you?” he asked. “You’re beautiful.”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. He didn’t press her. He let her stay as she was, hands hiding her breasts.
He steered himself into her, filling her in one slippery motion.
She moaned, feeling her body stretch around him. The feeling was at once foreign and familiar, and she thought she was making love to a stranger she’d known forever. She dropped her hands to his shoulders, bracing herself as she rode him gently.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry,” he replied. He grabbed her hips and took control of her movements, forcing her body down on him. He held her still, studying her face as she gripped his shoulders, willing her body to accept his complete intrusion. “You can keep breaking my heart,” he said thoughtfully. “If you want. I wouldn’t mind so long as I can feel this. As long as I can be connected to you. Just like this.”
She smiled. “I won’t. I won’t break your heart anymore.” And then he released her hips and let her take control. She ground her body on him hard—an urgent need to come undone. She wanted to pour it all out—her pain, her heartache and pleasure. She would bare her apology, and she wanted the raw honesty of her orgasm to act as absolution.
She rode him frantically, desperate for forgiveness and a chance to start new. He encouraged her—each stroke building his own pleasure. He watched her face twist from desire to frustration to desire again. He reached up and cupped her breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples, and listened for those familiar cries. The ones that usher in an explosion of pleasure. They started, and he swelled in her.
She felt the first racking wave start from her throat and sweep down through her belly to crash between her legs. She screamed, opening her mouth and tasting the salt tears that pooled in the corners. The wave crashed again, pouring from her eyes, from
that secret place between her legs. He answered her cry, coming hard and unexpectedly in her, filling her body with his own apology. Hoping she would accept it and forgive him completely.
She collapsed on him and shook with exhaustion and uncontrollable sobbing. He stroked her back and kissed her temple.
“I love you,” she cried into his neck. “I love you, and I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Cadence,” Mark replied. “It’s forgiven. And I love you. So much. I’m sorry for everything.”
She sat up slowly and looked into his eyes. “Is it?”
“It’s forgiven,” he repeated. He stared into her transparent eyes. They were glassy, red-rimmed, and helpless. “I love you,” he whispered. “Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“There’s nothing left to hide, Cadence,” he said. “You see everything. I’ve given you everything. Do you believe me?”
She nodded again.
“I . . . I never knew just how hurt I was. I never understood. I went so long not feeling at all. It’s not an excuse for keeping you at a distance. But it’s the only reason I have.”
She wiped her eyes.
“It’s a pain that won’t ever fully go away. But if you let me keep loving you, I think you can heal me. Little by little. Maybe surprise me one day when I discover that all the hurt is gone.”
She smiled. “I hurt, too,” she whispered.
“I know,” he replied. “I knew how sad you were from the moment I met you. And I knew my purpose was to try to make you happy. But sometimes I feel like I’ve done nothing but make your life even more painful.”
“That’s not true at all,” she argued.
Mark sighed. “I guess we’re just a couple of sad people.”
Cadence chuckled. “As long as I get to be sad with you.”
He smiled.
“Tomorrow will feel strange,” Cadence said after a moment. “Here, now, in the darkness? I feel close to you. But tomorrow, I fear it’ll feel like living with a stranger.”
“It will,” Mark said. No point in lying about it. “We’ll have to discover each other again. Get used to each other. It’ll take time. We’ll feel weird about it, but eventually it’ll all be old hat.”
“I trust you when you say that,” Cadence whispered.
