Cunning (Infidelity #2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

doing. My vow of silence didn’t last long. Soon, both moans and whimpers filled the suite, punctuated by the sound of slapping skin.
    I didn’t only utter sounds. Nox made me repeat phrases. If I did, I was rewarded with his fingers within my folds. If I was too slow or not loud enough, the sting of his hand returned.
    By the time he was done, I’d admitted that he owned me, that I was his for the next year, and that my limits no longer existed but were his to decide. I’d agreed to all things in private and public. He was my job, and I belonged to him.
    I’d said what I was required to say. That didn’t mean I agreed. In Del Mar I’d given him my heart. I knew that now, because today he’d broken it.
    Once he was satisfied that I was demeaned enough, he pushed me from his lap and callously said, “I’ll be back. Read my instructions and be ready. I want my money’s worth.”
    His words hung in the air to taunt me as he left me alone to gather the aching shreds of my heart. After the door shut, I slipped to my knees. Reaching for the lamp—currently the only source of light—I flung it against the marble floor. Sparks flew seconds before the room went dark.

 
     
     
    I COULDN’T PROCESS the downward spiral of the last few days. With my panties secured in their rightful place, I eased my sore body against the wall in the dark suite and hugged my knees to my chest. Tears coated my cheeks as I worked to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.
    Memories, like slivers of my broken heart, scattered through my thoughts. Time lost meaning as my recent and long-ago past intertwined until I wasn’t sure what was real and what were memories. I remembered the card Karen gave me this afternoon.
    Could I call the number? Could I be the first to ever claim abuse? Or was this an injustice like others I’d suffered, ones where resolution never came?
    The room blurred as more unshed tears raced for release. The entire scenario—Infidelity, Nox, and what he’d done—was embarrassing and degrading. I detested corporal punishment as a child—hated it—and yet at some point with Nox, it became erotic. My temples throbbed, ass hurt, and insides twisted with unfulfilled need. My body’s reaction was as upsetting to me as his actions.
    It was wrong. He was wrong. I was wrong.
    More and more memories swirled. The fragmented contrasts to childhood punishments churned the acid in my stomach. Those memories erased any desire Nox had elicited.
    I closed my eyes and gave in to a recollection I hadn’t thought of in years.
    Not every punishment began as a family conference.
     
    The distinctive click of the key turning in the lock echoed through my dark bedroom. Consciously, I held my breath, praying to stay silent. I should have gone into the closet.
    Why didn’t I go into the closet?
    My current location was only hidden by darkness and the obstruction of my massive bed. With little light, I could barely make out the pattern of the floral bedspread or bed skirt. Nevertheless, the web-like pattern of the lace skirt allowed me a limited view of the door, something I wouldn’t have had in the closet. Golden light from the hallway spilled over the carpet as the door slowly opened. I gulped my hiccupped cry, trying to stay hidden, waiting to see feet, and praying he wasn’t returning.
    My pulse raced as the shoes came into view. Black shoes, lady’s shoes, and black slacks. I sighed with relief as my forehead dropped to my raised knees, and I braced my eyes for the flood of light. It didn’t come. The door closed, and the familiar click of the lock let my heartbeat slow, closer to its normal rhythm. Sometimes I wondered if I wore a beacon. No matter where I was, Jane always found me.
    “Child, what are you doing?”
    I shook my head as she walked around the bed. Even with the thick carpet, the sound of her footsteps filled the room. I didn’t want to look up. I wanted to disappear. If only invisibility were real, I’d do that.