Leila's breath hitched. "Punished? For an alleged lie?"
"That, and for thinking you could play me for a fool."
"A fool?" Leila echoed. "Makros I could never play you for a fool. You're far too smart to be counted as such."
Makros studied her, his grip unyielding, his eyes darkening.
"You keep on provoking me, Leila." His free thumb brushed over her lips, slowly and deliberately. "When will you understand that every act of defiance will be met with punishment? It's almost as if you like to be punished."
Her breath quickened. "That's ridiculous."
"Is it?" His voice dripped with mockery. "Because every time I give you a chance to behave, you do the opposite. You lie. You disobey. You push back at every command and you delude yourself into thinking you can manipulate me."
She narrowed her eyes. "Okay, I've had enough. You have no right to call me a liar. People only lie to people they are afraid of and you don't scare me Makros."
Makros chuckled in surprise, wondering if he had heard her correctly. But that was not the bone of contention, so he stayed on topic.
"You're so full of shit, Leila." He leaned in, his breath warm against her neck. "Your pupils shrink when you lie. Your pulse spikes up. Like it's doing right now."
She swallowed hard but held his gaze.
"I'm not a liar," she said, voice more convicted than she felt. "I haven't done anything wrong either."
"I don't have time for your little games, Leila." He released her wrist, only to tip her chin up with two fingers. "But I'll have you know that you don't get to do or say whatever you please and walk away without consequences."
Her pulse thundered, but she forced herself not to flinch.
"If you're so sure I'm lying," she said, "then why do you want a confession?"
His lips quivered disbelievingly. "Because I want you to feel remorse, Leila. I want to hear you confess and beg for my forgiveness."
She threw her head back in laughter, wiping away a single tear. "God, look at you. Maybe you should've tried out priesthood. It suits you well."
Makros tilted his head to one side, and murmured, "You think this is amusing?"
Before she could answer, his voice dropped into a low command.
"Take off your dress."
The laughter died in her throat. The amusement drained from her eyes, replaced by something else, something trapped between fear and nervous anticipation.
He lifted a brow. "Did you not hear me?"
Her fingers curled at her sides. "I—"
He stole the rest of her words with a sharp slap across her cheek. Heat radiated where his hand had struck her skin, but worse than the sting was the way he stared down at her devoid of emotion.
"Stop being a priest, Leila," he snapped. He held her jaw, forcing her to look at him. "I am your god. And when I tell you to do something, you obey.Capisci?"
Leila nodded and with trembling fingers, she reached for the tiny strap of her red nightgown.
Makros crossed his arms, watching her. "Slowly."
Her breath hitched.
The dress loosened around her shoulders, creeping down her arms slowly before dropping to the floor. She stepped out of the folded material at her feet, standing left in nothing but her bare body, exposed under his scrutinizing gaze.
"Are you satisfied now?" she asked, keeping her voice steady despite the way her stomach twisted.
