Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
The house is dark and quiet as I make my way downstairs to the basement. It’s a windowless room where my guards and I work out, but it also serves as interrogation room when the need arises. For this reason, it’s soundproof. Carly can never know what happens in the depths of the house when she’s fast asleep upstairs.
5
Gabriel
I flick on the lights and walk around the room, trying to still the upsurge of regret that’s not powerful enough to wash out my excitement. The exercise mat absorbs my steps, not giving sound to the unequal harshness of my soles.
Regret makes me weak. Excitement makes me cruel. Anger makes me dangerous. I assess my state carefully. Anger is not part of my repertoire tonight. That’s a good thing, or I wouldn’t be able to do this. It would be much too hazardous.
Rhett enters the room with Valentina, his hand folded around her upper arm. She’s wearing her nightgown, which exposes her toned legs. Rhett’s fingers leave white indents on her skin. It shakes up all kinds of sentiments in me, but they’re like shredded pieces of paper. I can’t make sense of anything, except that I want to chop off his hand and poke out his eyes.
With a flick of my head, I direct him to the back wall. He knows what to do. Her eyes hold mine as he drags her past. The quiet kind of anger I often recognize in myself makes the brown of her irises sizzle with sparks. Within seconds, Valentina is strung up by her arms on a rope knotted to her tied wrists, facing the wall.
“Go,” I say to Rhett.
He gives me a questioning look. The surprise and disappointment on his face threaten to unleash my rage. I’ve never dismissed him when punishment or interrogations are executed, but this isn’t a goddamn show for his entertainment. Rhett knows me well enough to read the signs. With a last, confused glance in Valentina’s direction, he walks from the room, shutting the door behind him.
When there are just the two of us, I breathe easier. The violence dissipates. It becomes something different, something that turns my already erect cock into a raging hard steel rod. I adjust the rope, stretching it gently through the eye in the ceiling until she’s barely touching the mat with her toes, and secure the cord to the hook on the wall. I don’t want her to struggle or move. It’s safer this way.
She peeks at me from over her shoulder, her eyes big and her cheeks pale. “What are you doing?”
It’s not an easy question. There are many layers to it. I unbutton first one, then the other shirt cuff, rolling the sleeves back as I contemplate the answer. I don’t lie if I can prevent it. I decide to give her the simple truth.
“Punishment, Valentina.” I let her name roll over my tongue, loving the sound of it. Such a pretty name. Valens. Strong. It suits her.
She twists in her constraints. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
I reach up from behind, grabbing her arms to still her. “I know.”
She stops struggling, and her body freezes. “Then why are you doing it?”
I sweep her silky hair over her shoulder and brush my lips down the curve of her neck. “Because I get off on this.” Another layer of truth.
A sob tears from her throat. “Please.”
My cock twitches. There’s begging in that word, but also acceptance. She knows there’s no turning back. Even if there weren’t Sylvia’s expectations or my mother’s threat, I can’t stop myself. Not anymore.
I kiss the shell of her ear.
“Gabriel…”
She should call me sir or Mr. Louw, but the sound of my name on her lips is a treat I’m not going to deny myself. Already battling to carry her weight, she tips back. I catch her around her waist. My hands dip under the hem of her nightgown, gliding up her soft thighs. Hooking my thumbs into the elastic of her underwear, I pull it down over her hips and calves, leaving it around her ankles.
She shivers under my palms, but wisely doesn’t speak. There’s nothing she can say to stop this. When I step away, her body sways backward. Like a ballerina, she dances on her toes to regain her balance. A cry leaves her lips when I grip the collar of the nightgown and rip it down the middle. The fabric hangs loosely down her body, giving me a glimpse of her smooth back and the curve of her ass, but I’m greedy. To save time, I use one of the combat knives from the weapon counter, cutting open the arms to free her from the constraining clothing.
I step back to admire the view. Fucking hell. Restrained, with only her panties around her ankles, she’s an erotic image that will haunt my dreams. Her frame is a flowing portrait of S-lines, from the slender curve of her neck to the sides of her plump breasts and the narrow diameter of her waist to the swell of her hips and the rise of her firm ass. My eyes follow the trail of her legs from her quivering thighs to the dip of her knees and from the gentle expand of her calves to where they taper to her delicate ankles. My fingers ache to bury themselves in the cheeks of her buttocks and in the warm, wet depth of her cunt. I expel those thoughts almost violently, knowing I can’t enter her there. For now, I’m content to have her naked and bound, and if I’m honest, I’ll admit this isn’t about retribution or proving to my mother I’m not weak. This isn’t even about saving Valentina’s life. This is all for me.