Page 48

Her breath came in short, uneven gasps as she turned, her movements stiff and mechanical as she pressed her palms against the cool wood of the low table.

The muffled bass from the club beyond the curtain, more noticeable now that our sound system fell silent, was a constant reminder of how exposed we were.

Although I knew no one would dare enter.

Not unless they wanted a bullet between the eyes.

Her back arched down in a graceful slope, as she bent practically in half to rest her weight on her palms.

The tiny black G-string was the only thing preventing me from seeing her pussy and that tight little hole between her cheeks.

I stepped behind her, absorbing the sight of her submission—or at least what she was willing to give for now. I would break her soon enough.

Her feet were together, her thighs tensed and clamped closed, as if that was going to save her. With her head angled up as it was, her hair fell over each of her shoulders, shielding her breasts, and her eyes never left my reflection, tracking my every expression and movement.

Good. Let her see my appreciation, my hunger for her body. Let her see what was coming. It wouldn't stop a damn thing.

I lifted the belt, folded it in half and then ran the smooth edge down the center of her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine.

She shivered, but refused to make a sound, or look away.

My little kitten was still trying to act brave.

"You were a very bad girl," I said, dragging the leatherlower, just along the small of her back. "You were told to stay where you were. Instead, you disobeyed my command, running from me like that last night. And you took something that wasn't yours."

Alina's shoulders tensed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her words were sweet, innocent, and so very fake. She wasn't sorry, yet. But she was about to be.

"And what are you sorry for?"

"Taking the gun and running?"

"Oh?" I taunted. "Not sorry for hiding in a closet?"

I pressed the belt flat against her lower back, the slight tremble in her frame sending small vibrations through the leather. From the way she clenched her fists against the wooden table, she seemed to be bracing for the inevitable.

"That too," she gasped. "I'm sorry I ever took that job."

"That's not good enough. You and I have a little problem, Alina," I said, caressing the soft leather over the tight swell of her ass.

"No, we don't." Her voice quivered, even though the sound was barely more than a whisper. "I promise I'll be good. I won't tell anyone."

I leaned down, letting my lips graze the shell of her ear. "You saw something you shouldn't have seen."

Her breath hitched. She held it for a moment before letting it go in a shaky exhale. I ran my hand over the impossibly soft skin of her hip, loving the way she flinched under my touch but already knew enough not to pull away.

"And now," I continued, keeping my voice soft, but mytone firm like silk-wrapped steel. "Now it's my job to do something about that little problem."

I stared at her reflection as she squeezed her eyes shut again and another tear fell, leaving a gray, mascara-stained trail down her cheek.

I reached out and caught it with my thumb, tracing that damp path. A gentle touch. A touch that from another man would soothe, would show some type of caring affection.

That wasn't what I was doing.

"Shhh," I cooed, my grip tightening around her hip just enough to remind her who was in control. " I'm not going to kill you…yet."

Her entire body stilled. I wasn't sure if it was fear, anticipation, or maybe something else?