“Finds out about what?” I ask between punishing smacks of my palm. “The drugs? Your begging me to take your virginity? Or your best friend, the junkie?”
She sniffs, and doesn’t respond, and I continue spanking her. This can go one of two ways. Either I’ll anger her, and earn myself a swift slap to the face when I let her off my lap, or I’ll break through, tear those walls down, and reveal who she really is.
Her protests are the pleas of a woman who knows what she needs but can’t bring herself to admit it. And still, she tries. She begs and pleads and rails against me, bucking under the torrent of merciless smacks.
It’s time to change my approach up a little.
I slow the spanking, pausing to lecture her.
“There’s a good girl in there, Mia. I see it. Hiding from the world because she’s afraid.”
I lift my palm and wait for a response, but there’s none.
I bring my hand down, hard, and this time, instead of the loud, bratty protests, her crying takes on a different tone. It’s no longer the angry petulance of a thwarted brat, but something different.
I rest my hand on her heated skin.
My tone softens. “You know you can do better than this, don’t you?”
No response.
“Let’s start at square one. You owe me an apology.”
Nothing.
I lift my palm and bring it down again.
“I can keep this up all night,” I say. “And I will, until you apologize.”
“You can’t do that!” she says, but her voice is tear-filled, the anger gone.
“I can and will.” I hold her in place and continue her spanking.
“I’m sorry! Please!”
“I’m sorry what?” I pause, my palm ready to strike again.
She slouches over my lap. Resigned. Chastened. She sniffles softly to herself as she whispers, “I’m sorry, sir. I’m so sorry.”
She’s had enough. And Christ, if I don’t get her off my lap soon, all helpless and vulnerable and stunningly beautiful, I’ll do something I fucking regret.
I tug her dress down, slide her off my lap, and she falls to the floor in front of me. She buries her face on my lap and sobs.
“Shh, cara.”
I reach down and scoop her up. Her arms encircle my neck, and she buries her head on my chest.
“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I’m not usually such a bitch. I just… you just… you think you know me. You judge me. And I left Italy so I could…so my father wouldn’t…I couldn’t.” She sniffs against my shirt, and it breaks my heart. Humiliating punishment’s stripped her cool exterior. There’s a hurting little girl inside.
Piero Russo fucked up by giving her everything she wanted. I won’t ruin her like that.
I hold her on my lap and don’t speak. I let her go on and on, sobbing her heart out, and I just hold her. She doesn’t need any more lectures or discipline right now. She’s broken, and goddamn it, if I have a weakness, it’s a woman who needs rescuing.
I hold her until her crying stills and we sit in the quiet.
“Are you still mad at me?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. I was only angry with you for a brief moment, when you marched your haughty little ass out of my classroom.”
“You didn’t fume all day at me?” She lifts her head off my chest and gives me a curious look. Her nose is pink and her eyes are red, and hell, she’s adorable.
I shake my head. “No. I mean, I was angry at first, but I know where you live.”
She actually laughs.
“And I knew exactly what I was going to do.”
She swallows, and her eyes lower. “Did you…sir?”
I feel the low, seductive purr right to my groin, and barely stifle a growl.
I should toss her on this couch and go back to my place. No, hell, I should pack my bags and head back home and tell Piero that I failed, to give me another job, that he needs someone else to do this. I’ve been in shoot-outs and stings, hunted for vengeance, contracted for hits, and never, never have I been in more danger than I am now.
With her arms draped over my neck, she’s in such close proximity to me I can feel the warmth of her breath, the way she trembles on my lap. She shifts, and I know it stings. I didn’t take it easy on her. She’ll wince every time her ass meets the chair in my classroom.
Fuck.
“I didn’t come here to watch over you and let you hurt yourself.”
“No?”
“Nope. So from now on, it’s time we had some rules.”
She swallows hard, and places one hand on my chest. I take her wrist and place her hand down. Mia is well versed in the art of seduction, but I’m not an easy target. If she doesn’t get her way with aggression, she’ll likely try another method.