Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Even now, she’s gripping me like a fucking vice. Not long ago she was a virgin and she’s still tight as a drum.
But what if he was inside her, too? What if he tasted this sweet little cunt that’s mine? If she shared herself because I never mattered more than a passing novelty, someone to get her off—
I fuck her more furiously but it’s not the same. The condom is more than just a latex barrier between us. It’s what it represents. I can’t trust her anymore. What if she didn’t use a condom with him? If my perfect, pure girl is now diseased because of that disgusting fuck?
My dick starts to lose its hardness and I yank out of her, breathing hard. Which only makes me more furious. How could she ruin everything like this?
I tear the condom off and throw it to the floor, then pull my pants back up. She looks over her shoulder at me but I grab her head and force her to face front again.
“Are you done?” she asks, more confused than mocking.
“Not nearly,” I growl. I grab her and lift her, setting her on her feet at the side of the couch. “Bend over and grab the side.”
She glares at me. “Go fuck yoursel—”
“Go ahead,” I dare her darkly. “Finish that sentence.”
She gulps and instead, lowers her head. Submitting. I breathe out, barely keeping my temper under control. “Grab the edge of the couch, ass out.”
She stands still for a long moment, indecisive.
“You said you were only going to check on your father’s well-being. Instead, you got engaged to another man. A man you know I hate. Don’t you think you deserved to be punished for that?”
Her back goes ram-rod straight and I know she wants to say something. She wants to sputter her lies again, her fake ‘explanations’. But she finally chooses to do the smartest thing she’s done all day.
She bends over, wrists still bound.
I flip up her skirt.
“Logan, I—”
I bring my hand down before she can finish. And then I pull my belt out of the loops and snap the leather in the silence.
“It’s time to begin your punishment. Count, kitten. Count and beg me for more.”
Four
Present Day
Daphne
He’s infuriating. Why am I going along with this? If he’d just listen to me!
Thwack.
“Ow!” I screech and look back at Logan furiously. He just spanked me. With his belt. And he has the gall to glare at me.
“Count. And then say, may I please have another, Sir?”
He’s stoic. Furious. But not out of control. And underneath it, or maybe I’m imagining it, but underneath all of that, do I glimpse a glimmer of hurt?
What must it have been like, seeing me on TV like that? With Adam of all people, the man Logan considers his mortal enemy? Getting engaged?
Logan’s not the sort of man to be able to listen until he feels like he has a measure of control back. And this was how we’ve always been able to connect—this lightning shortcut to intimacy that made two weeks feel like a lifetime.
And I trust him. Even in his ice-cold anger. He might not trust me right now, but damn him, I trust him and I’m going to show him.
So, even though my ass is on fire, I don’t drop his gaze as I say, “One. May I please have another, Sir?”
His arm moves back and he releases another smack.
Motherfu— My fingers dig into the fabric of the couch and I clench my stinging ass cheeks.
“Count,” he demands ruthlessly.
“Two. May I please have another, Sir?”
The third follows before I’d barely gotten the words out. I dance in place at the pain. Ow! Fuck. How many of these does he have planned?
“Look how pretty your little ass is when it turns so pink. And it jiggles so good every time I smack it.” He sounds mesmerized, then his voice turns dark. “Count for your Master. Count because I own you. Count because you’re mine and I own this little pink ass. It’s mine. Count for me.”
I nod and for some reason, I don’t think it’s the pain, tears start to course down my cheeks. He’s hurt and I’m hurt. I am his but everything got all messed up and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. Nothing except count and beg for this punishment.
“Four. M- May I p- please have another, Sir?”
There’s a pause, and then another thwack, up higher this time, not in the same spot as before. My breath hitches and I blurt out, “Five. May I please have another, Sir?”
But then comes the touch of his large hand, hot but not harsh. He probes my no doubt pink flesh. I start to turn my head to look over my shoulder but he orders, “Eyes forward.”
I obey, dipping my head down to the arm of the couch, feeling more completely exposed than I ever have before in my life. Logan could destroy me if he wants. He always could.