BEAST

by Measha Stone

  Scrap? She didn’t dress in rags. There was nothing wrong with her clothing. Finally having acquired some common sense, she chose not to correct him.

  “Peter.” Ash’s voice shook through to her core, and the intensity of his glare while he spoke kicked her heart into a gallop. “Take this naughty girl up to my room. Have her strip, and put her on my wall.”

  “Wall? What?” Ellie’s arm was grabbed and yanked before she got an answer. “Wait? What? Ash!” She tried to scramble toward him, but Peter had already dragged her several feet away.

  “Peter,” Ash called, and Ellie almost smiled with relief. Good. He’d come to his senses. He’d calm down then he could yell at her in private.

  “Ass out.” Ash’s words struck her, and she started to struggle again.

  “I’d stop if I were you, but then again, you don’t seem to listen to reason.” Peter tightened his grip and dragged her from the from the room, away from the secret wing, to put her alone so she could wait.

  Alone.

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  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I’m sorry, man. She was up in her room.” Daniel stood in front of Ash wringing his hands. Though Ash suspected he wanted to have Ellie’s neck between his fingers as he twisted them.

  “And you figured she’d just go to sleep when she knew the party was tonight? You thought she would just tuck herself in and forget all about what the fuck was going on down here?” Ash paced behind his desk.

  The party hadn’t died down since Marcus’s departure and wouldn’t for a few hours yet. But he had to deal with Ellie. He had to deal with Danny for letting her get into the wing, and he had to fucking figure out how to deal with Marcus and his father.

  “She didn’t even ask about it, Ash. She just said she was going to bed.” Danny’s eyes flicked to Peter who stood at the door observing. Peter wouldn’t interfere. Even if he wanted to, he knew better than to try.

  “I told you to watch her. I told you fucking make sure she didn’t come near this place. Now, not only did she fucking get in here, Marcus had his filthy hands on her.” Ash rarely raised his voice, but the image of that fat hand on her delicate body brought his voice up a peg.

  “Where were you, Danny? If not where you could see her slip out of her room, or anywhere in the path between the second floor and the west wing?” Peter asked in an emotionless tone.

  “I was with one of the girls.” Danny looked away. “I thought I was done for the night. Amber couldn’t go to the party, so I was with her.”

  Ash fisted his hand but took a step back. He didn’t strike his men. He wouldn’t, but fuck it would feel good at that moment to do it. To hear the crack of Danny’s fucking jaw when Ash’s hand planted in his face.

  Peter stepped forward, coming to Ash’s aid. “Amber’s off limits for the time being. You knew that.”

  “It wasn’t like that. We were just together, not fucking or anything like that.” Danny looked between Ash and Peter, probably unsure who presented a greater threat at the moment.

  “Get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to see your face until I call for you.” Ash turned away. Punching him would have been kinder.

  “Ash, wait, man, I—”

  “Go, Danny.” Peter opened the door, letting the music from the party into the room.

  Danny huffed, but, in the end, he stalked out, the tension from his own irritation lingering behind him.

  Once the door closed, Ash threw his fist into the wall. His knuckles split, and plaster cracked beneath the wallpaper, but it only fueled his anger instead of alleviating it.

  “Yeah, you’re not going upstairs until that shit is done with.” Peter pointed to the break in the paper.

  Ash rubbed his knuckles and took a deep breath. “That fucker touched her. He touched her, Peter. He knows damn well she’s mine, and he fucking touched her. Right in front of me, he held her against the fucking wall. Right in fucking front of me.”

  Peter nodded. “I was there, Ash. I saw. I also saw you keep your cool, so the damage should be minimal.”

  “Damage? I don’t give a fuck about his prick of a father. I don’t deal with those families anymore. I’m out of that shit. That was my father’s era, his bullshit game. Not mine. Everything I do stays away from them.”

  “Except you’ve sold to Marcus. You’ve honored two contracts in as many years,”

  “It had nothing to do with the Annex. Nothing.”

  “Well, now what?” Peter didn’t argue. There wasn’t a point, and they knew it.

  “Now? Now his father comes back to try and piss me off some more. He’ll spout some shit about old ties and old promises. And I’ll have to disappoint the fucker. Which means he’s going to get even more pissed.”

  “How do you want to handle Marcus?”

  “He’s done here. That crap he was pulling with Amber should have been enough to blacklist him, but now…” Ash tore his hands through his hair, trying to block out the image of the fright in Ellie’s eyes at being shoved against the wall by that dirt bag.

  “He doesn’t set foot on the grounds. Not past the front gates.”

  Peter nodded. “Do you think he’s going to retaliate in some way? He’ll see this as an insult.”

  Ash stopped pacing. “He touched what’s mine. If I see him again, he loses his hands. If he makes one fucking move against me, he loses his life.”

  “That’s a lot for one girl.” Peter didn’t back down. He never would, the bastard.

  “It’s not about that.”

  “It sure as hell is, cousin.” Peter pointed to him. “You’ve had men give attention to a girl before. You never started a fucking war over it.”

  Ash clenched his teeth.

  “No one has ever put hands on one of my girls,” Ash countered.

  “Well I guess it depends on what you mean by your girls. ’Cause plenty have tried to lure away one of the girls of the Annex. But, yeah, no one has dared to touch one of your personal girls. Is that what Ellie is? Is she more than repayment? Is she yours, really yours?”

  Flipping the desk over and tossing his cousin across the room seemed an appropriate response. But Ash took a deep breath and steadied himself.

  “She’s just a girl under my protection,” he stated, though he could hear the uncertainty in his own voice. He didn’t do uncertain. Every decision, every choice he made came after calculating the pros and cons.

  Peter frowned. “You can lie to me, and the guys all you want, Ash. But you don’t believe that.”

  “Don’t make more out of this than there is.” Ash grabbed the whiskey bottle from his bar and poured three fingers of reassurance.

  “You shouldn’t have kept her, Ash. If she was just a repayment, you should have done exactly what she came here for. She offered. It was her choice.”

  Ash kept his eyes on his cousin while he swallowed his drink, embracing the heat as it rolled down his throat.

  “I’m not discussing this. How I choose to take payment isn’t for you or any of the fucking men to question. She’s mine until I release her and, until I do, she will do what I say. And the men I put in charge of watching her will do what the fuck I say. Now, I have to go deal with her.”

  Peter blocked the door but didn’t speak. Ash took the moment to let his heart stop pounding. The anger boiling only a minute before lowered to a soft simmer.

  “Don’t take it out on her, because you’re pissed at Danny, or me, or Marcus.”

  Ash met Peter’s gaze. “I wouldn’t do that, and you fucking know it. But I will take it out on her that she disobeyed. And because she disobeyed, we most likely will have a fucking war on our hands.”

  Peter shook his head again, either from disappointment that Ash didn’t just let the matter drop or because he realized Ash was right and something had to be done about Ellie’s actions.

  “Did you not do what I asked, is that it? Am I going to find her tucked into her bed with a cup of fucking h
ot cocoa?”

  Peter grinned. The image of him tucking anyone into bed with hot chocolate would make anyone laugh.

  “She’s exactly where you want her.”

  “Good.” Ash yanked the door open and stalked off to his room. He had a very naughty girl to deal with.

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  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The door creaked when it opened. Ellie’s head snapped back, and she turned, trying to see him. It had to be Ash.

  So much time had passed. But maybe it was Peter. Maybe Peter came to release her, to let her free of this nightmare.

  “Ellie.” Ash’s deep voice carried across the room.

  She lowered her head, pressing her forehead against the wall. Her shoulders ached, her body chilled, and her heart racing again. It had taken so long for her to calm down, to convince herself that when Ash came up he could be reasoned with. Hearing the darkness in his voice, her confidence slipped.

  She tried to push the blindfold Peter had put over her eyes to the side with her arm, but she couldn’t get the right leverage. Her hands were bound outward, stretched to each side of her, and her legs in much the same position. Completely displayed to him. Her ass facing him as he stood in the doorway.

  Heavy steps fell behind her, but still she sucked her breath in surprise when the feather touch of his fingertips brushed across her back. He gathered her long hair and split it in half before tossing it over her shoulders, exposing her back to him.

  “Do you remember what I said would happen if you started snooping around the other wing?” His nails dug into her flesh as he dragged them from her neck to her ass.

  She hissed and moved up on tiptoe, but there would be no escape. The leather straps binding her to the iron rings bolted into the wall had no give and would be relentless in her captivity.

  “I asked a question.” His lips moved against her right ear. Warm breath brushed along her naked skin; the roughness of his beard scratched her shoulder. The scent of bourbon on his breath was intoxicating, though his firm control of his movements told her he hadn’t overindulged.

  No. Ash remained clearheaded. Stubborn and unrelenting, but his thoughts wouldn’t be persuaded from too much drink.

  “You said I wouldn’t sit for a week.” She had thought the boast an exaggeration, a mere threat. From his stony tone, she doubted she had been correct.

  “That’s right.” He bit her earlobe, chuckling when she yelped. “Fuck you’re beautiful like this.”

  She swallowed her sarcastic retort. She was already strung up like a damn marionette doll; no need to add to the problem.

  Although the lighting in the room was dimmed, it hurt her eyes when he pushed the blindfold away. She blinked a few times before he came into focus.

  He still wore his black button-down and his trousers. He wore his hair loose, and it made him more menacing than she wanted to handle.

  “My shoulders hurt, Ash,” she said twisting to keep him within her eyesight when he moved. She had to turn to the other side to see him walk to his bedside table.

  “Don’t worry. In a few minutes, your ass will hurt more, and your shoulders won’t even be a thought.” He opened the top drawer and pushed things away.

  “Ash, please. I’m sorry. Can’t you just lock me in my room?” She tugged on the leather straps again, not surprised when nothing happened.

  “Oh, that’s happening, too. Well, in a way.” He gave her a wink and took out a leather band with a thick black ball in the center of it.

  She clamped her lips shut and shook her head furiously. She would not allow him to gag her.

  But what made her think she had any say in what Ash did? By now, she should have known he would have his way. He would do what he promised.

  He pressed the front of his body against the back of hers, flattening her against the wall. Her breasts ached from the pressure.

  The ball appeared in front of her mouth when she twisted her head away to keep from shoving her nose against the wall.

  “Open your mouth, Ellie.” He pushed the ball against her closed lips.

  She made a noise, telling him no way in hell.

  “Open it, or I’ll force you, and if I have to force you, then you’ll take five extra licks.” His lips moved against her ear again. “And you don’t want any extra of these licks, I promise you.”

  With a whimper she parted her lips. Before she had fully complied, the ball shoved past her lips, painfully stretching her jaw and filling her mouth. Her head jostled as he clasped the buckle behind her.

  “There.” He patted her bare ass softly.

  Cool air hit her back when he stepped away.

  “Peter normally handles discipline for the girls. But you’re mine, and I don’t let anyone touch my things. I’ll still use the strap the other girls get. They’re used to it, doesn’t really hurt them, but you…” He walked to her right side. “You haven’t had a taste of the thick leather before. So this is going to hurt a lot.”

  He held up the strap. A short leather belt type of implement. Much thicker than any belt she’d seen before. She swallowed, trying to suck in the saliva pooled at the edges of her mouth.

  “You’ll get fifteen licks. Cry out as much as you want.” He moved over to her left flank, running his hand over her ass. “You’re still a tiny bit pink from where Marcus smacked you. That wasn’t okay, and he’ll be punished for it. But we’re here to deal with your disobedience.”

  She tried to call to him, to make him understand, but he ignored her pleas.

  The first fire-laden stripe landed across both cheeks, and she screamed with it. She’d never felt anything so heavy and painful before. He didn’t give her time to finish processing the hurt of the first lash before giving her the second.

  She yanked on her bonds. Still no give. Wiggling from one side to the other did nothing if she couldn’t move her feet. The third stripe caught her on the upcurve of her ass.

  Another and another barreled down on her ass and thighs. Heat like she’d never experienced spread across her backside.

  “Halfway, Ellie,” he said while he ran his fingertips across her throbbing cheeks.

  She tried to suck in air. Containing her saliva failed, and it spilled over her chin. Pressing her forehead against the wall, she took a deep breath through her nose. Tears spilled over her eyelids, streaking her cheeks. The throbbing in her backside already consumed her thoughts. How could she take the rest of the lashes?

  “Ready to finish?” He asked, a softer tone than when he’d started.

  She shivered.

  “Seven more, Ellie. You can do it.” He squeezed her cheeks, and she squealed.

  Once he regained his position, she sensed the backswing and clenched hard with his upswing. It didn’t help. The pain radiated up her body. Her shoulders ached from straining against the bonds, her back hurt from tensing, her ass throbbed from the harsh strokes. Even while he kept the strap focused on her punished globes and thighs, every part of her hurt.

  Sobs began, and she couldn’t stop them as the next four licks landed meticulously, making their way down from the top of her ass to her thighs, leaving no flesh unburned.

  Every bit of her felt swollen and sore. Pressing her face into the cool wallpaper, she let the tears flow, sniffling to keep from making an even larger mess of her face. Drool spilled from her gagged mouth while tears streaked her face, and her heart beat hard in her chest.

  Ten strokes.

  Fifteen hadn’t sounded like a hard sentence. It had sounded manageable.

  She groaned with his touch.

  “Now for the last part of your punishment,” he whispered.

  She lifted her head to try and catch his eyes, but he had moved out of sight already.

  “The girls at the party are to have their handler with them the entire evening,” he explained as he moved around behind her. “It’s for their safety, so anyone who doesn’t have their handler with them, is punished.”
>
  A door opened and closed, but she couldn’t crane her neck enough to find him.

  She tried to tell him he had just punished her, but the gag muffled all sound.

  He appeared next to her, smiling at her like they’d just enjoyed a fun game instead of the whipping he’d just dished out. With a finger, he pushed the hair from her face; some strands stuck to the wet tracks her tears had left behind.

  Leaning his head against the wall, he eyed her silently. The moment stretched on, and she searched his features. She expected to see anger, satisfaction at making her cry the way he had. But he seemed to be studying her as well, with curiosity.

  “The punishment for walking without a handler is ten with the cane.” She assumed he would be pleased with her whimper, but he didn’t show any reaction to it.

  She tried to tell him she didn’t know. How could she have known? But wasn’t that the point? She wasn’t supposed to have been there. How could she know rules for a place she had been forbidden from entering?

  “Technically, Peter should be delivering these, but I won’t let him touch you. Any more than I would let that fucker Marcus touch you. No one touches what’s mine, Ellie. And, make no mistake, you are mine.”

  The possession and harshness of his words should have made her shiver with dread. After all, she was bound to the wall, her ass throbbing and swollen, and the promise of more pain hung over her. How could she find comfort in his words? Comfort in him?

  “The punishment is ten, but like I said, you’re mine, and I decide your punishment. You’ll take five.” He raised the cane level with her face and tapped her nose with the tip. “Five strikes of the cane, and your punishment is over. Have you learned, Ellie? Have you finally seen that I mean what I say? And do you understand I make the rules, not you? Do you get I am the one who allows and forbids?”

  She focused on what she could make out of the cane. With the pain starting to ebb enough for her to breathe easier, the idea of it starting again brought more tears to her eyes. This was her life, now.