Page 6 of Broken Discipline
“Because I have to,” I repeated. I didn’t owe him an explanation about why I had married Bruce.
“Why do you submit to me?” he clarified, his tone earnest. I turned over my shoulder; his gaze was glossy, completely transfixed by me. There was power in that, a power that I had over him. This wasn’t about my pain. This was about my reaction. Finn wanted to see me cry and sweat and yelp as much as he wanted to hear me moan.
He stepped closer, guiding my hips so that I was once again bent over the table. He licked my ear, the tickling touch forming goosebumps on my neck. He pressed the club between my thighs, letting my bare skin ride against the wood. His body smashed into me, full of weight, like a physical shield protecting me against the world. Like I didn’t belong to an old, rich billionaire anymore. Like the Marked Blooms Syndicate didn’t own my life through a binding marriage contract. Like this was a dream.
And for a moment, it was.
“Make yourself come,” he growled in my ear, pressing the club snug against me. “All I want—all Ineedright now, to erase my memories of tonight, is to see you writhe like a filthy little toy on this club. Be a good girl. Bemygood girl, Ramona. And come for me.”
I swallowed a breath, my insides coming undone at those words. It was degrading and somehow appealing as hell, because Finn wanted me to degrade myself for his pleasure. I closed my eyes, grinding against the wood, the skin between my legs sensitive from the blows of his punishing strikes, making every little ripple of friction feel like a million fingertips. I moaned and his length twitched against my back, stabbing into me. He wrapped a hand around my throat while the club covered my sensitive nerve endings. I humped the wood as if I hadn’t been beaten with it. As if I hadn’t let a man violate me with the handle while my husband watched.
As if all I had was Finn.
Finn’s thumb rounded over that tender bead of nerves, sending electricity through my limbs. I twitched uncontrollably, and he pressed into me harder.
“That’s it,” he growled. “Come for me.”
Those words sent me over the edge. Pleasure burst through me, my body vibrating against the club, changing that club from a nightmarish weapon into a humiliating, and sensual toy. My body pulsed, every ounce of energy exploding through me, and Finn dropped the club and held me tight, like he was afraid of letting me go.
Once I was steady, he made sure I could stand on my feet. I leaned against the table for extra support. He adjusted his pants, then found a folded robe in a hidden drawer to the side of the room. He was already done with me, then.
Why was I so disappointed?
“You don’t want me to…” I trailed off. His eyes finally met mine, and every expression dropped from his face. He was cold, like his heart no longer existed.
“We’re not finished,” he said calmly. Those words vibrated through me, but I could only nod. I didn’t want to be done with him, but right then, neither of us had a choice.
He opened the door, and my husband burst through the doorway as he zipped up his pants. Finn bowed his head curtly at my husband, then disappeared down the hallway. My husband rifled his hand through his gray hair, then pulled me closer to him. The acid in my stomach curdled.
“A robe?” Bruce, my husband, asked, eyeing the garment in my hands. “He’s right. The cold won’t be good for your head. Did you have fun, darling?”
“I—”
“Let’s go,” he said, tilting his head toward the door. “That was a waste of time. I thought I’d at least get to hear you scream. But alas, each member has his own ideas of what constitutes as ‘fun.’” He eyed my robe. “Hurry up, now. We haven’t got all night.”
I quickly fumbled into the robe, tying it around me. Bruce muttered to himself, his words directed at everyone and anyone, rather than to me. I zoned out, but one phrase caught my attention: “It could have gotten you off the hook for next time.”
“Next time?” I asked.
He sneered. “Behave yourself.”
As humiliating as it was, even with an arrogant husband like Bruce, a life with him was still better than what I could have had with my children back in my hometown. Being a subservient wife was worth it as long as I still had my mind.
“Next time,sir?” I corrected.
“They have these Masquerades every quarter to help the members unwind. I like to pay my respects to the Marked Blooms Syndicate as much as I can, though. And as you know, it helps me to get off, too.” He grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. The attendants opened the double doors for us, letting us out into the cold night. The robe was thin against my skin, but at least it was something. I had expected Bruce to make me walk out naked, but Finn had changed that.
“So we’ll be here again soon, sir?” I asked.
“At least once a year. Perhaps twice, depending on my mood.”
Chills crept over my bare calves. At first, it was hard to grasp that the same secret society that had rescued me from my old life was the same secret society that held these sadistic, quarterly Masquerades. But in the end, it fit. It wasn’t about prestige; it was about power.
Bruce’s driver popped out of the front of the town car and went around to open our door. Bruce slid inside first, and I followed, the satin fabric of the robe sliding against the leather seats. Bruce’s cologne filled the back compartment with a heady, musky scent. He reached into the vehicle’s hidden side compartment, pulling out a glass and a bottle of whiskey.
“You know, none of my other wives could handle it for that long,” he said, pouring two fingers of liquor. “But you show promise, darling. Even when you tried to run away, you did so well tonight. You handled UpchurchandCarter.”
“Carter, sir?” I asked.
