Page 9 of Tempting Tessa

I bring the brass knuckles down on his pinky finger. The crack of bone is almost as satisfying as his scream.

“One,” I count softly.

His ring finger is next. I take my time with this one, applying pressure gradually until the bone gives way with a wet snap.

“Two.”

Tears and snot stream down his face as he howls. “Please stop! I’m sorry!”

“You’re not sorry yet,” I tell him, my voice calm as I break his middle finger. “But you will be.”

“Three.”

His index finger takes two strikes to break properly. I want to make sure it’s unusable. No more grabbing women. No more touching what’s mine.

“Four.”

When I reach for his thumb, he pisses himself, the acrid smell filling the container. Pathetic.

“Please,” he sobs, “no more.”

I move to the other side of the chair while he sobs, snot and tears running down his face.

His left pinky breaks under my fist. The sound of his screaming is almost musical now.

“Six.”

Ring finger. Crack.

“Seven.”

Middle finger. Crack.

“Eight.”

Index finger. Crack.

“Nine.”

Thumb. Crack.

“Ten. We’re all done.”

“P-please stop,” he chokes out. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Have you?” I grab his chin, forcing him to look at me. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”

“Don’t—don’t touch women without permission,” he gasps.

“And?”

“And especially not yours. Never yours. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I pat his cheek, almost gently. “Good boy. You’re learning.”

I nod to Rico. “Untie him.”

Rico moves forward, pulling a knife from his pocket. The fuck flinches, whimpering as Rico cuts through the zip ties binding his wrists and ankles to the chair.