Page 11 of Rockland

His spanks are hard. I’m shocked at how quickly I’m subdued by the pain.

I give up, lying limp over his shoulder as he effortlessly carries me up the stairs to the front door. My only consolation in my humiliation is that the entire family is headed toward the annual dinner and no one will be witness to my current chastisement.

I hear the door unlock, open.

He drops me down on my feet. I land softly. My hands go to my hair, straighten it back into place after being carried upside down. Under my breath I murmur, “Neanderthal.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. Stares at me, daring me to move. He says, “Let’s lay out all the ways this can happen. I take you upstairs. Spank your ass till you’re under control and capable of handling yourself for the family meal. Or you can fight me.”

My hands go to my hips. So that’s how he wants to play this? I say, “I’ll fight you.”

“I’ll tell you what happens in that case.” His fingers go to the buckle of his belt, causing my heart to skip a beat and my breath to catch. “I throw you over the kitchen counter. Whip you with my belt. Then take you upstairs and spank your ass till you’re under control and capable of handling yourself.”

I swallow, hard. I’ve never had the belt.

He awaits my decision, but the words are caught in my throat. I can’t pull my gaze from his long fingers resting on that buckle.

Ice forms in my stomach. My ass cheeks clench. I can’t let this happen. I picture myself over my counter, his tattooed muscle-laden arm bringing his belt down across my ass. A cold sweat covers my forehead.

He’s staring at me, hard. Tapping his finger on that buckle. He says, “Three, two…”

“Never!” I take off running. Where I’m going, I’ve no idea. I just know I’ve got to stop this from happening. I dash through the hall, past the kitchen, reach the backdoor to the garden. My hand is on the handle when I feel that vise-like grip wrap around my waist.

Again, I’m thrown over his shoulder. Marched into the kitchen. Down from his shoulders and popped onto the floor. Turned away from him. He’s got me over the counter, my waist pressing into the granite. I look over my shoulder, frantic as I watch him singlehandedly unbuckle his belt and whip it from the loops of his trousers. My heart races.

“You need a lesson in respect, little lady. Your tongue is razor sharp and you think you can say and do as you please, letting your anger control you.”

To my shock and shame, he’s lifting the hem of my dress. His hand is at my waist, his rough fingers pull at my panties, tugging them down below the curve of my bottom. He’s holding up my dress with one hand, exposing my bottom. The cool air rushes over my skin, chill bumps rising on my flesh.

“How dare you pull down my panties, you… you… brute!” My sweaty palms press into the countertop as the belt comes down, right across my bare bottom. The crack of the leather reverberates through the room. I hear the sound before I feel the pain. “Ouch!” I scream. The sting burns across the fullest part of my bottom, hip to hip. “That hurt!”

“Are you ready to accompany me up to your room?”

My ass is burning but it’s not yet enough to stop my tongue. “Never. You big… bully!”

He brings the belt down again and over the loud snap of the leather I think I hear a chuckle. He’s hit the same spot as before and now I’m on the tips of my toes, howling in pain. I know I’m overacting but this whole being thrown over your kitchen counter and whipped with leather is new to me and my skin is on fire. I cry out, “Okay, okay! You win. I’ll do whatever you want.”

The belt lands on the floor with a thud. He snaps up my panties, drops the hem of my dress. He whips me around to face him. His hands are on my shoulders, heavy and holding me in place. His gaze locks on mine, those golden eyes flashing. His jaw clenches. But he’s studying my face and now, I’m surprised to see a hint of compassion break through his stony mask.

There’s warmth within his words when he says, “Where do you think you’re going, Tess? The Village needs you today. Brett needs you today. You need to honor his memory in a way you’ll be proud of. I can’t leave you to your own devices. Let you spin out of control. You’ll regret it.”

He’s right. He knows what I need. I know what I need.

But how? How does Rockland know me so well? All day, he’s anticipated my every move. Been so rough with me when most widows would need and want softness, sympathy. I study his eyes, his face. There’s a dark look that passes between us.

There’s an energy at play that I can’t deny.

One that has always danced unspoken between us.

A hateful, raw energy that makes my blood boil and my brain go numb.

I’ve got to get him out of here.

I know what I must do.

Rockland

She’s walking up to the third-floor master bedroom. She’s acting compliant but I’m sure the little hellcat has tricks up her sleeve. I’m behind her and I’ve got a view of her perfect ass as it moves against the fabric of her gown.