Page 91 of My Solemn Vow
“No.” He grabs my wrists, pinning them behind my back with one hand while he works my pants down with the other.
Once around the curve of my ass and past the lip of the countertop, they fall to the floor, puddling around my feet.
“I was going to give you thirteen for every day I’ve been denied this beautiful body because you didn’t communicate that you wanted more. Two for trying to fuck my fingers without permission. So now you’ll get a nice round fifteen for disobeying me.” He almost reverently rubs his hand across my ass as he speaks.
I’m lost to the attention of his hands until his words register in my brain.
“You’re spanking me?” I ask to clarify.
I’ve never been spanked a day in my life. My parents never laid a hand on me. And well, Gregorio is too much of a coward to hit me.
“Yes, princess.” I can hear the smugness in his voice but can’t lock eyes with him in the mirror anymore. “I’m going to spank you. I’ll be gentle... this time.”
The first comes without warning with a sting to my ass, and I yelp in shock.
“Count them. I want you to count and thank me.” He prompts me.
I’m quiet. The disbelief in what’s happening takes over.
“Don’t test me, Antonella. You’re already up to fifteen.Should we make it twenty? Too many and I won’t have time to make you come until we go to bed tonight.”
I can feel my arousal even without the fabric of my pants against my core.What the hell is wrong with me?But, dammit, I need an orgasm. Defeat and embarrassment send a cool chill down my spine as they settle like rocks in my stomach.
I whisper, “One. Thank you.”
The next smack comes as I finish saying ‘thank you.’ I wince. It’s a bit harder on the same cheek.
“Two. Thank you.”
Valor switches sides, then gives me two smacks, waiting each time for me to tell him thank you between.
We’re at eight and my ass is on fire. My eyes are scrunched closed, and I’m barely breathing enough to get the words out.
“You could have been almost done,” Valor says, squeezing my ass cheeks. “But you had to disobey me.”
The pain from the next one is worse. He hits me harder, and the skin is already tender.
“Nine, thank you.”
By eleven, tears are welling in my eyes. He’s started switching them one at a time on each side.
“Twelve,” I sob, forcing it out. “Thank you.”
But it’s not shame. It’s guilt. It’s sickening guilt that I disappointed him. I didn’t realize how much I had been working to be perfect for him. It wasn’t self-preservation but something deep inside, wanting to prove that I could be everything, but instead I’ve proven nothing.
“Three more,” Valor says softly as he pets the soreness away. He’s sweet and encouraging about it. “You can do it, be strong for me.”
I sob between thirteen, thank, and you, followed by a quicker gasping fourteen, and finally, mercifully, fifteen.
Tears stream down my face, and I can’t figure out if it’s from the guilt or the pain.
Valor helps me up from where I’m bent over the counter and turns me to face him. Brushing my hair out of my face, he smiles.
No, now I know for sure. Because the way he looks at me has me crying harder. My knees are weak and my shoulders shake.
As he wipes a tear away, he praises me. “You are such a good girl for me.”
He kisses me softly, tongue probing. I feel more in control of my body as the emotions ebb.
