Page 71 of At Your Mercy
“You love me,” I repeated, because saying it aloud made it less like a hallucination. “You said it like it’s a problem.”
He flinched as if the label could burn him. “It is. It’s—it’s dangerous. I know what I am to him. I know what I am… I shouldn’t… I don’t want to drag you into that. I know how this story ends, Wesley.”
“You already dragged me in,” I said. “And that’s on me. But you didn’t drag me into loving you.”
“Do you… do you—”
I pressed my forehead to his. Close enough to feel the dampness of his lashes on my skin, to taste the faint salt from where his tears had dried. “I didn’t expect it,” I admitted. “But yeah, babydoll. I love you. So don’t apologize.”
He let out a breath like a small laugh, ragged. “B-but what if I lose you? He’ll take you from me, I know it.”
“He can try, but we won’t let him win, Ro. I will not walk away. I will not let him keep doing this to people, and I will notlet him hurt you again. Fuck turning him in. We’ll bury him six feet under.”
He blinked, the red in his eyes diminishing a fraction. “Promise?”
“It’s not a word I hand out lightly,” I said. “But yes. I promise. I can’t promise it’ll be quick or clean. I can’t promise you won’t be scared along the way. But I promise I’ll try—God, I’ll fucking try. I’ll make him pay for what he did to you. To your family.”
He reached up, hand trembling as it threaded into my hair, and pressed a gentle kiss on my lips. “He can’t take you from me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised, and meant it with a ferocity that made something close to a sob want to force past my teeth.
We stayed like that for a long time, holding each other in a quiet room that suddenly felt like the only safe place in the world. Outside, there were plans to make and enemies to map and a man who needed to stop breathing. But inside, for a few minutes, there was just this—this fragile, strange tether between us that felt like the most necessary thing I’d ever been given.
When I finally pulled back enough to see his face, he was calmer, the edges softened. I let my hand cup his jaw and added, “I’ll get things moving. Ichabod will put eyes on your place, and we’ll start tracing every account, every movement. We’ll find his current,” I grimaced, spitting out the word,”stock, then take him down.”
Ro’s fingers tightened around my wrist. “Be careful.”
“I will be. But, doll,” I kept my voice low, the kind I used when I needed him to listen, really listen, “I’m going to need to punish you for not being honest with me.”
His pupils blew wide; the faint tremor in his jaw was still there. “P-punish me?”
“You’ve earned yourself a spanking,” I told him, turning and walking the few steps from the door to the couch. I sat down, my legs wide, and patted my thigh. “C’mon, babydoll. Be a good boy.”
He hesitated, eyes darting to the floor, the doorway, then back to me. I could read the hundred little arguments running through his head—fear of being seen as weak, worry that this was me being cruel, the ingrained instinct to disobey before trusting.
He moved with a brittle grace, shuffling across the small living area and settling over my knee. His faded sweatshirt rode up, revealing a sliver of pale skin.
“This is going to be a bit more intense than the last one, okay? You need to learn.” My fingers toyed with the waistband of his shorts. “I’d like to take these off. Is that okay?”
Ro squirmed on my lap. “S’ fine,” he muttered.
I held in a laugh at his rather poorly hidden love-hate relationship with being obedient whenIwanted him to be. It was quite a difference from the moments when he was the one calling the shots, even if those shots were “choke me,” “slap me,” or “bite me.”
I pulled his shorts down, letting them fall to his ankles, revealing a light blue jockstrap underneath. Sucking in a breath, I caressed his exposed globes, using a finger to trace along the straps of his underwear.
“I think we’ll start with twenty and see where that leads us,” I announced, placing my non-dominant hand on his low back.
“Wow, twenty, how horrible,” he said under his breath, a smirk ghosting the skin of my calf where his head rested.
“I heard that,” I said, my tone strict despite the smile on my face.
I kept my hand flat the first time, a warm, open smack across the center of his ass. He flinched, a surprised noise spilling out of him.
I drew back and landed another, firmer, stronger. He exhaled hard, a small animal sound, and I felt his dick begin to chub up.
“Tell me what you did wrong,” I said between hits.
“I didn’t tell you about what Elias said,” he answered, his voice shaky.
