Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Sabrina

The sound of a hand smacking an ass was unmistakable. The unbelievable part was the ass wasn't mine. My breath caught, even with my mouth full of Damon's cock, and he stilled inside my mouth, his body going rigid.

I kept my eyes on his and watched the myriad of emotions that played across his face. Shock, anger, longing, determination.

I sucked in a breath around his length. The climate in the room had just changed. I really hope Fin knew what he was doing. The pain I saw in Damon's eyes was pure anguish, the kind I wasn't sure could be removed without years of therapy. Was our plan stupid? Were we just about to make everything worse, for all of us?

Fin smacked Damon's ass again, and this time, Damon roared back with a growl. I watched the whole thing with wide eyes–taking in a side of Fin I'd never seen.

"I'm not giving up babyboy. Not on you, not ever again."

Fin's eyes met mine in silent pleading and I understood that everything had just changed. With Damon finally back in our lives, this beautiful yet broken boy-turned-man, life felt different. Who knew where we would go after today? Who knew how fucked-up things would get before they got better. If they got better.

I nodded at Fin to let him know I understood and agreed, then immediately looked back at Damon. His reaction to Fin's vow was incredible to witness. He went totally still, and I was pretty sure he stopped breathing for a moment. Anger crossed over his face, a mask to hide his pain. And then, he just broke.

His dick softened in my mouth, and he pulled away as he went limp, collapsing on top of me, his upper body heaving, like he was crying without tears.

I was stuck beneath his warm body, but I didn't mind. Fin stayed locked inside him, but bent over, rubbing Damon's back in wide circles. "It's okay, babyboy. It's okay."

It wasn't okay; I think we all knew that. Nothing about any of this was okay, and yet, there was a certain peace, a certain wholeness in being together again, in knowing Damon was free. In knowing the things about our town we hadn't known back then.

When Damon rolled onto his side beside me, I couldn't resist reaching down to stroke his cock, watching as it grew in my hand.

He looked up at me with such wonder and awe in his eyes, and I felt the same. Here he'd come determined to hurt me, determined to get his revenge, and now I was comforting him.

I had to. Because no matter what had happened in our past, no matter what had happened today, no matter all the ways we'd hurt each other, I loved him, and I just wanted him to feel better.

"I'm sorry," he wept brokenly. "I don't know what I was thinking. I had all this rage, and I have nowhere for it to go. I shouldn't have leaked your past. I shouldn't have broke the story, I shouldn't have lured you back here and…" He trailed off as if remembering the things he'd done. "I planned to… I probably won't be here after today. But I can't leave yet. I just… I just want a few more hours with the two of you. That's all I want. After that... After that, I'll go."

"Go where?" Fin questioned sharply.

Damon shrugged, his shoulders still shaking. "It doesn't matter. I'll just be gone. I won't be here anymore."

"Here, like Three Rivers? Or here, like Planet Earth?"

At Fin's question, I gasped and threw my free hand over my mouth. Surely Damon couldn't have meant…

His lack of an answer told me he had.

"No!" I cried, unable to stop myself.

Fin stopped rubbing, his hands gripped Damon's shoulders as he rolled him onto his back and forced Damon to stare into his eyes. "Babyboy."

The word hung in the air. He was too upset to say anything else.

Damon's eyes rushed back and forth, searching Fin's, as if drawing from a strength I wasn't sure was there.

Slowly Fin shook his head. "It's not that bad, babyboy. It can't be. We'll work through it together, whatever it is."

"Hold me," Damon croaked.

Fin quickly gathered the man we'd both loved into his arms, and my throat grew thick with a fresh round of unshed tears as I watched a love that was so much stronger than I'd ever suspected unfold in front of my eyes.

Fin held him, and I expected Damon to break. I thought this would be the end. But after only a minute, Fin pulled away, caught Damon's gaze with his and shook his head. "Being held isn't what you need, is it?"

* * *

Damon

Being wrapped in Fin's strong arms again felt damn good, but he was right. It wasn't what I needed. I needed punishment, I needed pain. I needed absolution. I needed… my Daddy.

Slowly, I shook my head from side to side, until my gaze landed on his belt, draped over the footboard.

I couldn't look away. Daddy's belt. How many times had it striped my ass as I worked through guilt and the stress of the world? Life had been so much simpler then. I couldn't imagine it would still be effective after everything. And I certainly wasn't going to admit that it was what I wanted.

But god help me, it was.

Fin must have followed my gaze because after a minute more, he cleared his throat and nodded. "Right, then. On your feet, babyboy. Daddy has some things to say."

My body went limp. I couldn't have gotten to my feet if I wanted to. I needed to be forced. I needed his hands on me. I needed him to make me comply, just the same way I had Sabrina.

Not that I'd tell him that, or expect my soft, stern, even-keeled Fin to recognize that, or even know what to do with it. He could be tough, and fiercely protective, but he didn't have the same darkness in him that I did.

Also, I easily had sixty pounds on him, if not more. Yet when you're talking about a Daddy and his babyboy, size doesn't matter apparently. Fin hauled me to my feet easily, turned me around and positioned me with my hands on the mattress, my feet spread apart.

I heard him draw a shaky breath, and felt Sabrina's eyes on me, but when I glanced up at her, I didn't see judgment or anger or fear, only love.

It didn't feel real. None of it did. The look on her face, Fin behind me, it was like a dream, like maybe I was still in jail after all, and none of this was real. Maybe it was just another fantasy to get me through the day.

Almost as if he knew what I was thinking, Fin jumped into action, and the first lick of leather against my ass assured me that this was most certainly not a dream.

God, it hurt. I'd forgotten how much. Like with most things, absence had made the heart grow fonder and I'd romanticized the pain for so long.

The second sharp lash almost had my knees buckling as the leather bounced against my clenched asscheeks. A wave of pain like being stung by a hive full of bees blossomed and spread across the surface of my ass, then settled deep in the tissue. I sucked in a breath, though, and welcomed the wave of emotion the pain brought with it.

I allowed myself to get lost in it and my own thoughts. The jumbled mess that they were. I thought about the mistakes I'd made, the circumstances I'd fallen victim to, and the anger I'd held at what I'd felt was betrayal from the people I loved most. I thought about how I ended up here, and what I planned to do after. Could I? Would I? Fin didn't want me to, or he claimed not to, but was that because that was what he was supposed to say?

I was about to succumb to the power of the pain when Fin's voice piped up behind me. "You were a bad boy. You didn't listen to Daddy. You refused my help and look where it got you."

I was more of a bad ass these days, but there was something about being called a bad boy that just about did me in. Because Fin was speaking the things I'd heard in my head for years. If only I'd listened to him, I wouldn't have been a pawn in a game I couldn't have understood. I wouldn't have fucked up so badly. I wouldn't have lost years of my life. I wouldn't have lost the loves of my life.

"I'm sorry," I gasped out brokenly. The words fell from my lips before I could rein them in, before I could even think about putting up my tough guy facade.

Fin didn't speak–he let his damn belt do the talking for him. Each lick of leather against the center of my ass, each stripe spoke loudly of his displeasure. The pain became easier to take when I thought about the hurt and emotion behind each stroke.

I arched my ass out of him, welcoming the correction, reveling in the pain. The delicious burn across the surface of my throbbing skin seemed to wash away the emotional anguish I'd been feeling–or at least made it impossible to concentrate on. The deep ache in my gluteal muscles assured me I'd be reminded of him for at least several hours to come. I hoped it was longer. I wanted to feel him every time I moved.

"Six more," he finally said, when I thought I'd reached my limit. "One for each year we had to miss you, for each year we had to miss each other. And then we forgive. Both of us. Ourselves. Each other."

I grunted, because my throat was thick with tears threatening to fall. He was asking a lot. Maybe too much. I could forgive Fin, sure. Maybe even Sabrina. But forgiving myself? I didn't know how. Not this time.

As if Fin knew my thoughts, as if he knew I'd need something to concentrate on other than the impossible task he was giving me, he called out, "Count them, babyboy."

And then, the only sound in the room was the air being pushed forward as the belt flew toward my ass. I clenched and shuddered, as if it could stop the assault that was surely coming, but of course it didn't.

Crack. It landed, the sound of leather on flesh filling the small space.

"One," I cried out.

I was surprised when he stopped to rub the burning ache, and even more surprised when he leaned over me to whisper in my ear. "Please forgive me, babyboy. I'm so sorry I failed you."

My throat was thick with emotion, and I knew I couldn't answer him without breaking down, so I just nodded, collapsed flat across the bed, and waited for the next stroke to fall.

"Two!" I cried when it finally did, landing directly on top of the first.

And then Daddy-Fin-paused again. This time his voice was gruff and thick with emotion when he said, "Sabrina deserves your forgiveness, too. She was a kid. One in a horribly impossible situation. The rug was pulled out from under her, and she had no other option but to move forward."

There was a part of me that knew he was right, but an even larger part of me that still was hurt, that clung to my self-righteous anger. I lifted my head, just enough to catch a glimpse of Sabrina. She was staring back at me, her eyes filled with tears, her shoulders shaking. Was she crying for me, or for herself? Either way, she didn't look happy to see me getting Fin's revenge for the atrocities I'd forced on her as I would have expected her to.

Before I could process what that might mean, or how I felt about it, the belt curled around my ass again. I hadn't been expecting it, and the cry that fell from my lips was one of pure anguish. I almost forgot to count, but at the last minute, cried out "Three!"

"Good. My good babyboy. Come on now, let it all out. Three more, and I want you to really think about what I told you to focus on. "Forgive us. But most of all, forgive yourself."

It was a tall order; one I didn't think I could obey. But I tried. My hardest.

The belt lashed across my sit-spots, leaving its lingering pain across the tops of my thighs. "Four!"

With each stripe of leather across my now aching ass, I concentrated on the truths that I knew. We'd all done what felt right. We'd all made mistakes. We all had a chance to forgive.

"Five!" I screamed out the count on the second to last swat, and as if some miracle had happened, as if my Daddy's spanking actually had magical healing properties, I actually felt the tightness in my shoulders ease as some of the guilt seemed to fall away.

Fin sucked in a breath, and his breathing was ragged behind me. I could picture his chest heaving, his brow beaded with sweat from the exertion of how wickedly he was wielding the belt. He was panting, and I almost felt guilty at how hard he seemed to be working.

After a moment, the heavy breaths subsided, and Fin leaned forward to rest a palm across my aching asscheek. "You can do it, babyboy. You can let go. Of everything. Of all the ways we hurt you, and of the mistakes you made. Have you forgiven me? Have you forgiven Sabrina?"

I weighed the question, pondering it, and noticed how much lighter my chest felt than it had all day. "I do," I breathed, stunning myself with the answer.

No sooner did it pass my lips, than Fin had a follow-up question. Or rather, a statement, followed by a question.

"I forgive you, babyboy, for the resentment I've harbored over your choices that took you from us. I release that resentment, and I forgive you."

The final lash fell, and my voice broke when I called out, "Six!"

Fin's voice followed. "And now you need to forgive yourself."

It was easier to forgive them than myself, though and by the time Fin dropped the belt onto the small bed near Sabrina's feet, I wasn't sure how much progress I'd made.

My ass hurt, and I felt some sort of absolution, but I still felt hollow. I still wanted to grab at my anger and hold it over me like a warm blanket.

Fin wouldn't let me. His arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling my body against his. His cock dangled between my cheeks.

He pressed kisses on the curve of my neck. I melted into him, thinking that maybe this was good enough. Maybe it was as good as I was gonna get right now, and I could be happy with that.

I started to turn in his arms, seeking his mouth, wanting to lay my head against his chest and just breathe in his nearness, but he pushed me down again, back into position, leaving me gaping in surprise.

Sabrina giggled.

"I thought…"

"You thought we were done?" Fin snickered. "We're done with punishment. This is therapy."

"Fin," I growled. I appreciated what he was trying to do, but there were some things he just couldn't fix.

"Save it," he barked. "Don't tell me what to do or not to do. In case you missed the memo, you're not in charge of this situation anymore."