Page 83 of The Billionaire's Secret

"Lean over it."

"You must be joking."

He glares at me and the blood rushes from my cheeks. Guess not. I rise to my feet.Move. Do it.I force myself to take a step toward it, then stop, "Give me one reason I should agree to your stupid ideas?"

The belt whips out, catches me across my breasts. I cry out, stare at him. My nipples harden. He glances at my chest, and his lips twitch. "That’s what I thought. You like it, don’t you?" He reaches out and pinches one of my rigid nipples.

I yell, "Jesus."

He laughs.

"Your ego is so big that I wonder you haven’t been crushed by the weight of it yet," I snarl.

"That’s what I think every time I look at my—" He looks down at his crotch.

"Seriously?"

He jerks his chin toward the settee, "Go on."

I swallow. He raises his belt; I head toward the blasted settee.

I hear the whine through the air a second before pain grips my backside. I stutter, speed up my pace. When I reach the settee, I pause.

I hear his footsteps behind me.Shit.I fall forward until I am draped over the arm. Butt in the air.

Bloody hell, what have I gotten myself into? Had I known he had this streak of meanness running through him from the beginning? Had I sensed it? Wanted it, even? Wanted him to strip me of all dignity, to tear down the pretense I had clung to, that I was in control? Because I’m not. I haven’t been. Not since the day Nina disappeared. I didn’t know what had happened to her and I allowed my mind to go to all of the usual places, picturing her lying in a ditch somewhere next to an overturned car, crying for help. I allowed my fears to create a story that couldn’t possibly be true. Only to find out the truth was much worse than I could have ever imagined.

They’d taken her. And then...because I just wouldn’t give up and kept looking for her, insisting the police do their job...they took me. My entire life had unraveled around me. And I had watched, helpless, unable to save her or myself. A part of me had fought back and clung to something indistinct, had wanted to hope that I was still there, hidden inside. The girl who was a fighter, who had never backed down from a challenge.

The part I cling to now when he jerks my skirt up my legs. Air hits my exposed back side.

A beat. Another. He hasn’t moved from his position behind me. I sense his presence though. Hard. Heavy. Throbbing. That immovable dominance that vibrates off of him and pins me in place. Waiting…waiting. I squeeze my thighs together, hear the whine of the belt as he snaps it.

I cringe, clench my buttcheeks. He laughs, "Fooled you, hmm?"

"Asshole."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," I mutter.

"So much sass, Gigi?"

Hate the name… No, I lie. It does strange things to me when he calls me that. I’ve always been Victoria. I’d hated being called Tory, especially by them. And no one bothered to find a nickname for me…before him.

I sense his gaze on my back, down the crease between my buttcheeks where my panties are bunched up. I reach behind to pull it out and he clicks his tongue.

I redden.Shit, I hate that.Hate it when he demeans me. Treats me like I am his toy, his slut.His.I squeeze my eyes shut. Where did that thought come from? My sex clenches; my belly quivers. Why do I find that a turn on? I am sick in the head, no doubt about it. Is that why I am here, doing what he wants…waiting… Waiting for him to take the next step. To do something…anything…whatever he wants to me.

I swallow, "Saint."

"Shh!"

His whisper comes from somewhere above me. I turn my head to find him staring at my butt. "You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?" His voice is contemplative. There’s an intensity to it that sends a shudder down my spine. My stomach flip flops and goosebumps rise on my skin.

"Saint…" I clear my throat. "Please…"

"Hmm." He rolls his neck and his joints pop. I wince. It’s like a declaration of what is to come. The calm before the storm. The silence before the tsunami hits the shore.Do it, do it. Don’t delay.