Page 54 of Breaking Lucia
“Sex is nice, Lucia, but I can get that from any woman.”
“But there’s something you want fromme,” I say, hating that there’s a slight waver of uncertainty in my voice. But damn it, I know it’s true. I just don’t know what.
He abruptly lets go of me. “I thought you were smarter than this.” He pats his lap and adds, “Bend over my lap.”
I blink at him. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’tthat. “What?”
“I’m not repeating myself,” he says coldly.
I can’t risk him getting too impatient and leaving to follow through with his not-even-veiled threat to reach out to Pavone for negotiations. I hate that I’m giving in this easily, but Pavone is even more terrifying than all three of these men put together.
Even after Angelo almost killed me.
I slowly shift, bending over his lap and glancing up at him.
“I bet you won’t be able to keep count.” Victor rubs my ass with one hand, while the other keeps me steady. “But you’re welcome to try.”
Keep count? With what? He’s not really going tospankme, is he? “Do I get a reward if I do?”
“The satisfaction of proving me wrong.”
The first slap is sharp, unexpected, and I gasp loudly. I can’t believe he actually did it. I’ve never been spanked in my life, and I’m more in shock than in pain. It’s not so bad though, and I resolve not to react anymore. He can hit me, but it won’t affect me.
“One,” I say sarcastically.
I’m prepared for the second blow. This one is softer than the first, only a bit lower, and I wonder just how fragile Victor thinks I am. But I’m not going to complain.
The next three blows are spaced out, none of them worse than that first one. I’m lulled into a weird rhythm. The worst is being over his lap like a goddamn child in some British boarding school novel. My face heats up a bit, but this mild humiliation is nothing.
Then the sixth slap comes, and it’s harder than any of the others. I yelp loudly, but before I have time to complain or settle, he hits me again, and again. I have no room to adjust, can barely even catch my breath, as he keeps going.
He’s found a rhythm, and I count each of his strokes silently. Like hell do I want to givehimthe satisfaction of being right, and making sure I don’t lose track of the number of blows gives me something to focus on.
The blows vary from soft to hard, barely clapping to stinging to worse, but I stubbornly keep up the count.
Twenty-five.
The tears are spilling from my cheeks, and I’m crying softly—not sobbing hysterically, even though there’s something so visceral about the experience that I want to break down completely.
At first I think he’s going to stop, but then he tells me, “Turn over.”
I don’t make him repeat himself. I turn over, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes… and his hand comes down on my cunt.
I yelp, my eyes going wide as tears splash down over my face.
“Settle down,” he chides me, running his fingers along my folds… which I’m shocked to find arewet. My cheeks are burning as much as my ass as he brings his hand down for a second blow. And another. And another.
Thirty.
I can barely see anymore, my vision so blurred by tears, and my breath is coming out in hiccupping gasps. I’m braced for another blow, only this time his hand is gentle. It feels shockingly good, and I’m so grateful I’m not in pain anymore that my sobs get louder.
Victor puts an arm under my shoulders and forces me upright. My tender ass settles on his thighs. If his hands weren’t keeping me in place, I would have fallen right off him.
“Not bad, for your first time,” Victor murmurs. He kisses the underside of my jaw, and for some reason, that makes my crying intensify.
I don’t understand why I’m such a wreck. It was just some spanking. It hurt, but I’ve taken pain before. Yet I’m a total mess, and when Victor rubs my back and nudges me forward a bit, I end up wrapping my arms around him and sobbing pathetically into his shoulder.
Several long moments pass, and my sobs turn into much softer sounds until finally I’m crying silently against his soaked shirt.