“I punished her.”
He pauses, eyes narrowing into thin slits. “Is that why she was screaming like that?”
“Partly.” I must say I didn’t expect him to care about me going too far. But when he trails his tongue along his lower lip, I realize that’s not it. The idea of me taking it too far turns him on. He likes the idea of her screaming her lungs raw and wants the full story.
“She needed an outlet. Pent-up emotions,” I explain, not sure I want to tell him everything. The details are too intimate to use as fodder for his dark lust.
“How did you punish her?”
I sigh. “Just a quick spanking.”
He cocks an incredulous brow. “It sounded like you caned her feet.”
“The reaction cameafterI spanked her.”
“Why?”
“Emotional release, like I tried to explain.”
He goes silent as he returns his attention to the flogger, which gets more love and care than I’ve ever seen him bestow upon a woman. “When am I gonna have her?” he presses after a minute.
I huff. “I’ve just told you she screamed her lungs raw because she had a breakdown, and you expect me to send her up here so you can whip and humiliate her?”
He shrugs.
I get up. “Come on, Killian. You might act all tough and uncaring, but I know you don’t want to break her like that.”
“What if I do?” He lifts his gaze, the seriousness etched into his expression making me pause on my way to the door.
“Well, do you?”
He drags a hand through his hair and sighs. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like that.”
“How so?”
He stares off to the side, biting his cheek. “It’s just this energy. It wants to destroy… something.”
“I’m not going to leave you alone with her until you feel somewhat in control and she’s starting to feel safe here.”
He returns his attention to me, eyes gleaming wickedly. “Do I get to rip that safety apart?”
I shake my head and lean my hands on the back of the desk chair. “How about a pretty dress? Something with many layers. You can rip that apart.”
A glimmer of anticipation breaks through the cruelty, lighting up his eyes. “Like the one she wore that night?”
“Something like that.” I clearly remember the wide, multi-layered skirt that shimmered with streaks of silver, cascading from a soft, rosy bodice that hugged her torso like a second skin—that image of her coming down the stairs, the dress hanging loosely off her body, and mascara smeared on her reddened cheeks.
That night, I just wanted her out of my house, but thinking about it now—how broken she was—I just want to go hold her. And that’s what I intend to do. All night.
“You should go use that expensive punching bag I bought you. Or try screaming. You need an outlet too.” Simply lifting weights and running on the treadmill doesn’t seem to cut it.
He just shrugs, and I know he’s not going to do either. The punching bag has been hanging unused in his fitness room since I got it on recommendation from his therapist several years ago. He never did get much out of all those hours of therapy except the satisfaction of going against all the advice he got.
I repress a sigh and move to leave, but pause as I remember what I came up here to ask. “Will you do me a favor and stay out of Jenna’s way for the next few days—try not to bump into her.”
A scowl draws Killian’s brows tight. “Don’t get too attached, Dad. She’s still mine.”
“Still yours,” I confirm. Something inside me revolts at the words. Right now, I want to protect Jenna more than anything—from anything but myself. Sharing her with Killian is doing the opposite of that. But eventually, I’ll have to let him have her.