Marissa’s head appeared as she came up the steps, and she looked in his direction, but didn’t quite make eye contact.She walked past without saying anything.
Irritation with Allie flared.“Look,” he said, “you can’t just stop by here.This isn’t your house anymore.”
Marissa’s steps faltered and she stopped, looking over her shoulder uncertainly.
He gave her a grim look.
“Well, I was just picking up my mail.And I had an appointment on your side of town, so I stopped in to make myself some coffee and have a bite to eat before I went.”
“Next time stop at Starbucks, instead.I’ve moved on, Allie.And you should, too.Popping in at my house uninvited and unannounced is bad form.”
Allie was silent and he cursed inwardly.Despite the fact that she’d cheated on him, he still cared about her.He didn’t love her, he didn’t want to be with her, but he also didn’t want to hurt her feelings.He ran a hand through his hair.He sighed.“It’s time, Allie.I need you to respect my boundaries.We’re not married.”
“But we’re friends.”
“Yeah, but friends don’t get in the way of each other’s love lives.”
Marissa drifted back toward the door to the kitchen, standing just outside it, looking in.
He met her eye.“Listen, I gotta go.No more unexpected visits.”
Allie spluttered.“I can’t believe this?—”
“I mean it,” he said, his voice firming into a dominant tone.
“Fine,” she snapped and ended the call.
He tossed the phone on the counter.“Come over here, right now,” he said pointing to the floor in front of his feet.
Her eyes widened in surprise at his stern tone and she complied, scurrying over.
“Don’t you ever walk away again without telling me why you’re mad at me,” he said.
She openedand closed her mouth, stunned at the reprimand.His mouth was set in a firm line, his jaw muscles visibly tightening.The authority he projected made her knees wobble and all her own anger evaporate.She didn’t like being the subject of his anger.
He picked up her wrist and spun her around pinning it behind her back.Pushing her torso down on the counter, he said, “Pull them down.”
She didn’t ask for clarification; she had no doubt what he meant, even if she didn’t understand why she was being punished.Her fingers fumbled at the button and zipper and she slid her shorts and panties down to her thighs.
His belt buckle jingled behind her, followed by the whoosh of the leather sliding through the loops.She shivered.
He didn’t say a word, he just began whipping her with the leather.
She flinched, lurching against the counter to get away, her legs trembling.
He laid down line after line, traveling down her bottom and back up again, the slap of leather against skin making a loud whap.She cried out with each stroke, her bottom clenching and her hips dodging from side to side.
“Marissa, my job is to take care of you.And I can’t do that if you put up walls and keep me out.If you’re upset or mad or scared, I need to know about it so I can fix it.”His calm rational words didn’t mesh with the excruciating whipping he was laying down.
Despite the pain, heat had flooded her core, spreading the petals of her sex, her body ready to be taken by him.Even the pain began to feel good, as if he somehow was converting her emotional angst into the thin stripes on her ass, freeing her with each wicked stroke.
At last he stopped, and she panted, her knees buckling.
To her disappointment, he pulled up her panties, then her shorts, reaching around the front to zip and button them.Like a daddy would.He turned her around, picked her up, and set her on the counter.His expression was no longer hard, the lines had softened and his gaze looked tender, and concerned.
Cupping her face, he leaned his forehead against hers.“I’m sorry.”
A sound bubbled out of her—half laughter, half scoff.“Isthathow you show you’re sorry?”
