Yara doesn’t hide her annoyance as she keeps glaring at me. And a smirk escapes me as I observe her anger rising. It doesn’t seem like she enjoys being unmasked and her intentions called out. My provocative tone turns her expression into a stern one, and as she reaches down to unfasten her belt, I hear her saying, “I’m no longer using a whip.” My eyes fall on the leather belt that is now between her hands folded in two. And as I look at it, I can already feel the sting on my ass. No one has ever dared to go as far as Yara. But today, boundaries have been thrown out the window. And no one would’ve ever imagined me asking, “How many swats?”
“Five strong ones.”
I’m not sure what strong is gonna feel like, but five seems bearable. And as I keep thinking something through, I ask, “If I do it, then you’ll undress and shower with me?”
My question makes her lips curve up with a naughtiness I haven’t seen before, and after she presses her mouth to mine for a peck, she whispers, “There’s only one way to find out.”
Chapter 14
Emma Hasenfratz
I watch not-so-discreetly as Mrs. Van Lawick puts her hair up into a new ponytail as she looks at her reflection in the mirror above the sinks. Then she takes her toiletries bag, opens it, and applies some spray on her hair. There is something captivating about looking at Yara do her beauty routine after a shower. It feels intimate. Afterward, she uses three creams, one for her face, one for her eyes, and one for her neck. I recognize the brand—my mom uses the same one, which makes me wonder her age, but I’d never dare to ask her.
“I’ve never met someone like you,” I tell her as I’m still recovering from the incredible orgasm she gave me.
“Someone like me?” She turns around, her dark brown eyes landing on me as I light up a cigarette. “What do you mean?”
Before answering, I take my time enjoying the view as she takes a new polo shirt and puts it on. This one is white and marine blue on the shoulders, but it fits her just fine. Then, taking a puff on my cigarette, I say, “Yeah, I mean, someone into… um…”
“Someone into sadomasochism?”
Her blunt answer makes my stomach squeeze, and the word “Yeah” barely leaves my lips.
Yara lets out a quick chuckle in return while applying her creams. “Oh, you have definitely met someone like me.”
I squint my eyes at her insinuation. Does she mean Van Dieren? Of course she does, they are so alike. And before I can even ask her about it, Yara is standing right in front of me and takes the cigarette I’m holding before putting it between her lips. Then she takes a steady inhale of smoke and puffs it out.
“My chauffeur has just arrived. See you soon in Amsterdam, Ms. Hasenfratz.”
Without further ado, she exits the changing room, leaving me baffled. And before I can even cover myself, her chauffeur steps in and takes her bags with him.
Resting the back of my head against the wall, I exhale loudly, ruminating over everything I’ve gone through today. Jeez… I’ve experienced a lot of crazy shit in my life, but having an affair with a married noblewoman who happens to be a sadist is by far the craziest of them all.
Not even ten minutes later, my iPhone beeps, and I jump a little when I see that it’s Petra calling.
“Hey, how are you?” I greet as I pick up the call.
“Hi, I’m outside. Your housekeeper is not here. Can you come out and open me the door, please?”
What? Did I invite Petra to come over today? I don’t think so. “Yeah, my housekeeper is out. Alright, gimme a sec.”
I grab the clothes I was wearing this morning and head outside to the main entrance. There, I find Petra standing on the front porch, wearing a linen shirt and a pair of denim shorts. Her long hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, and I must say, she looks really cute like that. “What’s up?”
“Hey,” she greets me with a full-tooth smile, her eyes gleaming. “I’m sorry for not calling back yesterday. Um, I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, of course. Do you wanna go upstairs?”
“Sure.”
I invite her to my room and close the door behind us. Since it’s a sunny, warm day, Petra and I go to my private terrace and sit on the lounge chairs. “Alright, what’s up?”
Petra seems pretty anxious as she says, “First, you’ve got to promise me you won’t tell anyone.”
I raise my brows at her statement. Like, doesn’t she trust me enough? “Alright, I promise.”
But Petra doesn’t seem pleased. “No, it has to be more serious. You need to make an oath.”
What the fuck? “An oath?” I repeat, squinting my eyes.
“This is super serious. I need you to make a solemn promise first.” Petra reaches down and takes my left hand, laying it flat and palm down. Then she puts hers under mine and says, “Raise your right hand.”
Oh boy. I do so, enjoying her little show.
“Emma Hasenfratz, do you solemnly swear not to repeat, under any circumstance, what I’m about to tell you? And that you will honor your oath until the end?” The way she says it sounds super serious though.
“I do, babe.”
“You are under oath,” she reminds me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Ms. Hasenfratz will keep her mouth shut.”
“Perfect.” She takes a deep breath, like she’s pondering how to even start. “Do you remember when we hung up yesterday?”
“Yeah…” And I also remember she didn’t call me back like she said she would.
“Well, afterward, I met Alex in the trophy room I told you about, and he…” Words seem hard for her to get out as Petra becomes mute, her eyes darting down to her lap.
“He?” I repeat.
“He did something I’m very confused about.”
“Such as?”
Her cheeks bloom with heat, and I raise my brows at the sight. “He…” Blowing out a breath, Petra finally fesses up. “He bent me over and spanked my butt.”
“What?!” I shout, at the verge of breaking into a laugh. “Oh gosh, you can’t be serious.”
“Oh wow. You find it funny?”
“Yeah, like…” I’d love to spank her ass, too, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Alright.” Clearing my throat, I aim for a steadier tone. “And why did he do that?”
Her eyes keep going down with embarrassment as she twists her lips. “To punish me for my behavior.”
Her behavior? I can’t believe Petra could have done anything bad. But even if she did, it must have been cute to watch. “And how was it?”
“It was painful.”
“Yeah, I imagine your butt must have been on fire. But how did you feel about him doing it?”
“I felt… weird.”
“Weird?”
“Wet,” she corrects.
“Ah. That’s not the same thing.”
“I just… you know, no one has ever done that before.” This has to be the naughtiest confession I have ever heard. Picturing Petra getting a spanking is too delightful to be true, and I feel the urge to prepare a joint to smoke while she gives me all the dirty details. “Where are you going?” she asks, seeing me leave the terrace.
“I’m just getting a little something.” Yeah, and since Yara took all my cigarettes, I just have weed left.
When I come back with a sealed bag, rolling papers, and filters, Petra rebukes, “Weed? Really?”
“Why not?” I sit beside her again, grab a joint filter, and start rolling it. “Okay, so what’s next?”
“He asked permission to discipline me in the future.”
“Oh,” I say, staying focused as I now drop some herbs on the paper. “That’s interesting.” Then I pinch and roll it before licking the edge like an envelope to seal it. “And what did you say?”
“I have to give him my answer after thinking it through.”
I look around for a lighter, and a smile escapes me when I remember Yara’s metallic one is in the changing room. I stole it when she was getting d
ressed so I could keep a little something of hers until we meet again in December. “Gimme a sec.” I run back inside, leaving Petra behind, asking where I’m going as I rush to the changing room to grab the lighter. Then I return to the terrace just as fast. After burning the tip, I take one deep puff and ask, “And how many swats did you get?”
“Um, eighteen.”
“Was he very hard on you?”
“Well, some were quick and soft, others more intense and harsh, but I didn’t cry. He was also rubbing me, and it felt good.”
“So it was like a gentle punishment?” I tease, because if she had gotten one like I did with Yara’s belt, she wouldn’t be sitting on her ass.
“It was not that gentle either.”
Petra keeps her eyes glued on me, like she’s waiting for some unparalleled wisdom to come from me. Extending the hand that’s holding the joint, I ask, “Do you wanna try it?” And then with a dash of naughtiness, I add, “Or do you need permission?”
She huffs at my comment. “You’re very funny.”
Knowing Ms. Van Gatt has never been into smoking, I keep it to myself, taking another inhale of smoke before asking, “What is your gut telling you?”
Petra doesn’t reply immediately. She seems to be on another planet as she thinks something through. “Well, I kinda liked it. It was so… intense and… different,” she mumbles, a dash of embarrassment in her tone. “I never expected something like that to happen between us. But what if he stops respecting me because I accept being punished in the future?”
Hmm… I take another puff on my joint, pondering her words, and then ask, “Did he kill that bear?”
“Um, no.”
“And Sebastian?”
“Not that I’m aware.”
“So Alex stood by your side even though he was looking forward to killing one.”
Petra creases her brows in confusion. “And?”
“And that means he does value your opinion and respect you a damn lot.” Since Petra keeps considering me, I add, “Look, you can grant him permission and see how it goes. If you enjoy the dynamics, keep going; if not, have a talk with him.” I take another puff, quite proud of my answer. It seems like a balanced one. Smoking a quality joint kinda helps though.
“That’s why I love talking to you.”
“Huh?” Her praise is a bit unexpected.
“Yeah, everyone else would’ve judged me, or called me names, but you’ve always been different.”
Her statement warms up my heart. And it’s in these moments that I remember why we are best friends. We’ve never judged each other’s lifestyles. After all, we have always been two freaks with our own issues. “Well, I’m the one and only Emma Hasenfratz.” We share a quick laugh, and, after pausing for a beat, I say, “Jokes aside, I just know life’s short. So don’t waste your time living a life you don’t want to. If this can bring you guys closer to each other, why not?”
“You’re the wisest person I know.” Petra leans forward and embraces me tightly, her head resting against mine. “Thank you for everything, Emma,” she says in a whisper.
“Always, babe.”
After she releases me, she lets out a sigh of relief, like a huge weight has just dropped off her shoulders. “Um, when are you leaving New York?” And suddenly the subject is closed.
“Next Sunday,” I tell her.
“Already?” Petra doesn’t hide her bewilderment.
“Yeah, some wild nights are waiting for me in the Mediterranean.”
“Oh, wow. And when are you coming back?”
Her question makes me tense up; I’ve got no idea. “Um, I don’t know.”
And her jaw drops instantly at my answer. “Really?”
Seeing the disappointment in her eyes, I come up with a quick solution. “You’re staying at Park Avenue during the week, right?”
“Yeah…” she mumbles, keeping it short. And although she’s never opened up about it, I know she’d rather live with her fiancé than with her dad.
“Well, I might pop over, and we can do something.”
“Deal.” Petra gives me another hug, and I can’t help inhaling her jasmine perfume. This time, tough, my heart tightens a bit. Despite the best friendship we could have, this will never feel like enough.
Chapter 15
Manhattan, September 14, 2020
Petra Van Gatt
I should be paying attention to Sarah’s fascinating debate with Matthew about the best movie ever made, but my mind has been replaying the sound of every swat landing on my bare bottom and the terrifying anxiety and chills I had anticipating every single one.
You’re such a good slut…
A shiver runs down my spine as I recall the insanity of the moment when he said those words. Everything about that night was hot, scary, and left me wanting it over and wanting more at the same time. Like a roller coaster—it’s frightening at first, we know we are gonna scream, but we do it anyway for the rush of adrenaline and excitement. Then I remember his expression once I turned around, and how his eyes were laced with disappointment, like he was regretful for what he’d just done. It reminds me of the night at his family estate when he bent me over to satisfy his urge and asked me if I was okay with it. There’s a part of him that yearns for that kind of control, that intense feeling of possession, while the other seems to try to avoid it at all costs. My heart speeds up as I imagine being punished again, but this time with his belt. It must hurt like hell, for sure I’d cry. But the idea is more alluring and enticing than it should be…
“By the way, do you mind if we postpone our next meeting from Friday to Saturday morning?” Matthew asks me.
“Um?” I blink twice, returning to planet Earth, and find the entire group staring at me.
“We’ve got some extracurricular stuff to do on Friday,” Sarah adds, before taking a mouthful of her spaghetti.
“Oh, um, okay,” I tell them, a bit sad as I was planning to go to Bedford Hills Friday evening.
Taking my phone, I text Alex very quickly: Hey, my classmates have just postponed our next meetup to Saturday morning. Can you pick me up Saturday instead? X
“Petra,” Matthew says. “I’m sorry, is this cheese?”
Looking at the spaghetti dish sitting in front of him and then at mine, I say, “Um, I think so. Why?”
“Do you want mine?” he asks, showing me the cheese he put aside. “I don’t eat cheese.”
“Really?” My brows lift instantly. “But I recall you used to, no?”
“Matthew wants to become vegan,” Sarah teases as she takes his plate and puts the cheese on hers.
“I don’t want to,” he protests. “I am.” And he looks back at me and says, “It’s the least I can do to save the planet.”
A quick laugh escapes me, but the curious side of me has got to know more. “And how hard has it been saving the planet?”
“Super easy, actually. You’ve got substitutes for everything. There’s vegan cheese, eggs, milk. Like, everything can be switched.”
Sarah rolls her eyes as she eats his slices of mozzarella.
“I’m really impressed,” I tell him as I reach for his hand. “That’s very brave of you.”
“I’m not being brave”—he looks at Sarah—“just not being a selfish bastard.”
“Watch your mouth, boy,” Sarah yaps. “I’m sacrificing myself to eat your mozzarella.”
I lean back in my chair, my eyes on the mozzarella, and assess whether I should eat mine or not. “You know what? I’m not eating mine either,” I tell him. “Janine?” I call, my gaze searching for her.
“Yes, Miss?”
And for some odd reason, maybe because of the traumatizing experience of the trophy room and the hunt, I say, “From now on, we’ll eat only vegan food. Vegan cheese, vegan eggs. We’re gonna support Matthew in saving the planet and the animals.”
While Matthew claps his hands in excitement, Janine gapes and blinks twice. “Um, I’m not sure your dad wants to ditch his
meat and fish, Miss.”
“Your dad eats meat?” Matthew asks, like it is a crime.
“Yeah…”
“But you’re vegetarian, no?”
“Since birth,” I tell him. “Mom is too, and Dad respected her choice to raise me vegetarian.”
“Wait—you’ve never tasted meat?” David asks, matching Matthew’s judgmental tone.
“Nope.”
“Not even bacon?” he asks.
“Ugh…” I cringe at the image. “No.”
“Wow. Your mom seems awesome,” Matthew praises. Not really, no. “I wish mine were like that too. It’s disheartening when not even your friends or family support you.”
Sarah rolls her eyes, teasing him. “Oh, poor baby.”
“Sorry, mate, but bacon is life,” David chides.
“I support you,” I tell him with my biggest smile.
“Finally! After the bloody battle over objectivism, you guys have found some common ground,” Katrina points out.
And as my eyes fall on him, I pinch his arm for fun, and say, “Yep, we might be philosophical enemies, but now we are also vegan besties.”
“Vegan besties…” Matthew repeats a bit nostalgically, his gaze still pinned on me. “Sounds great to me.”
Chapter 16
Rotterdam, September 16, 2020
Tess Hagen
My nonprofit has been growing into something beyond what I expected. Since my interview was broadcast live, I have gained many new donors and, a bit surprisingly, many women have reached out to me with very similar cases to the one of Leonor—wives of powerful men who would like to get a divorce but don’t know what to do or how to do so. I wonder why they haven’t hired a lawyer from a top firm, but it seems like my message resonated with them and they feel safer with me to open up about their lives.
Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter Book 2) Page 15