Dubious (The Loan Shark Duet 1) - Page 46

“Is everything all right?” she asks in a small voice.

I must look like I feel––a fucking madman.

Quincy comes running from the back, jogging up when he spots me. He stops with his hands on his hips, looking between Valentina and me. “What’s going on?”

I can’t look at him right now. The chances are too big that I’ll rip his head from his body. Instead, I lock gazes with Valentina.

“What the fuck are you doing outside when the dog is loose?”

She stops petting Bruno and drops her hand. “He doesn’t mind me.”

“He’s a guard dog, not a lapdog.”

The vixen dares to challenge me. “He seems friendly enough to me.”

“She’s right,” Quincy adds quickly. “Bruno likes her. He won’t attack.”

“You,” I turn to him with ice in my tone, “are supposed to check that nobody is out before you let him loose.”

“It’s not Quincy’s fault,” she says. “I didn’t tell him I was coming outside.”

She’s covering for Quincy? With the aftermath of the adrenalin still burning in my veins and my leg aching like a bitch from the overexertion, this is as much as I can take.

I grab her arm and pull her from the wall, catching her around the waist before she falls. “Inside.”

Her face pales at my tone, even if the command was no louder than a whisper.

Quincy lifts his palms. “Gabriel, take it easy.”

“Are you giving me an order?”

He backs down. “Of course not.”

“Next time, follow instructions,” I snarl.

I don’t care that Marie stops to look at us as I drag Valentina behind me through the kitchen. I don’t stop until I get to the gym. Shoving her inside, I lock the door and turn to face her. She wraps her arms around herself, regarding me calmly, but there’s wariness in her eyes.

For a moment, I just look at her. The thought of anything happening to her leaves an acidic, bitter, fucking horrible taste in my mouth. The intensity of the notion shocks me to my core. I hate her for it. I hate her for the crippling anguish I suffered on her behalf. It’s a goddamn sick feeling, and it makes me fucking weak. I like my sex wild, and I love a woman’s tears, which is why I sleep with women who crave my money enough to take what comes with having sex with me. But Valentina? I never wanted to hurt her up to this moment. When I belted her, it was to prevent Magda from killing her. Yes, it turned me on, but I regretted it. Now, I want to paddle her ass until she screams. I want to punish her for what I feel.

I undo the buttons of my shirt cuffs and fold them back twice. Her eyes follow the movement, but she says nothing. It’s only when I walk to the weight bench and sit down that she finds her voice.

“Gabriel, please.”

“Come here.”

She doesn’t move.

“If I have to come get you, you’re going to suffer double as much as what I’ve got planned for you.”

Slowly, she moves to me, her eyes flittering between my face and lap.

I point at my knees. “Bend over.”

“Gabriel…” Her lip starts to tremble.

“You endangered your life, and your life is mine, which means you put my property at risk.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Don’t make me tell you again.”

She shuffles closer until her knees brush my thighs.

“Bend over my lap and press your palms and feet flat on the floor. Keep your legs spread.”

She lowers herself across my lap so that her head hangs down one side of my thighs and her legs down the other. The bench is low enough for her hands and feet to touch the ground.

I pull her dress up to her waist and move her panties down to her thighs. “If you move, your punishment will be tripled.”

Her smooth, golden ass and plump, pink pussy are exposed to me. I take my time to admire her perfect body, her unmarred beauty and unsoiled innocence. My cock stirs and grows impossibly hard. I lift my hand and take aim.

Smack.

My palm lands on the tight curve of her left ass cheek. She jerks in my lap, driving her belly into my hard cock.

Smack.

The second marks her other cheek. She sucks in a breath, but she doesn’t give in to me. Her silence is her defiance. Not giving her time to draw another breath, I land a succession of firm blows over her ass until I find my rhythm. I keep it light enough not to bruise, but hard enough to turn her skin pink. She squirms and whimpers, but she doesn’t break her stance. Her ass clenches with each slap. I keep going until not a patch of her skin is left unmarked. When I start to repeat the pattern on her inflamed skin, she finally breaks. A loud cry escapes her throat. I keep at it mercilessly, not giving her reprieve until her body goes slack.

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