Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
I turn my head and snap at him. “I said no, Kail! Leave me be and stop fussing over me.”
I know immediately that using that particular tone was a huge mistake. I’ve never spoken to him that way before. Kail’s eyes narrow at me, and he cocks his head slightly in an excuse me expression.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Hey!”
Kail has picked me up out of my chair and is carrying me off to our private bedchamber over his shoulder. He takes advantage of that and slaps my ass hard enough to make me squeal.
“You have never been obedient out of anything besides necessity,” he says. “And it has only gotten worse since Nemo. You act as if you are the only line of defense. You are wrong. I am here.”
He proves his presence by whipping my ass, taking me off his shoulder and putting me over his thick thigh where I am immediately further punished, his powerful palm landing harsh slaps against my increasingly bare ass. Kail is stripping me as he goes, until I am naked, and very sore.
“When I tell you it is time to rest, it is time to rest,” he growls. “I am here, Tarni. And we are on the same side. I will not allow you to hurt yourself by working yourself so tirelessly.”
I get no chance to respond as he unleashes a fresh flurry of harsh slaps against my ass. I can’t believe he is doing this. I am trying to save everybody’s life. I did save his life. I suppose saving each other’s lives is just what we do now, but still.
“I just saved your life! Again! That doesn’t get me a discount on whatever the fuck this is?”
“I am showing you mercy,” Kail growls. “You think a paddling over my knee is even close to my worst after taking that tone with me?”
“I think you should let me up.”
“You’re not getting up. You’re going to bed and you’re going to get some sleep.”
I try to get up, but I am quickly shown the extent of his strength and the relative intensity of my weakness. Kail pins me in place and spanks me even harder for the audacity of having tried to escape his rare but stern discipline.
“Tarni,” he says, his tone deep, resonant, and very warning. “Don’t push this.”
I want to push it.
I am not feeling much in the way of self-preservation at the moment. I am frustrated and angry at having lost our peaceful home. I should be better than this. I should be able to keep my family safe. And there’s some part of me that wants this pain, because I think I deserve it and worse.
I make another squirming effort to get away, forcing Kail to pin my arm behind my back to keep me in place.
“I warned you,” he growls, not understanding that his warning was more of an invitation.
He is no longer using his hand. Instead, he uses a brush, my very own hairbrush taken from the nightstand. This ship was always kept stocked with necessary items.
The moment the brush lands, I make a silent vow to throw it out of the airlock. The blaze of heat is intense, followed by a punitive ache.
“I don’t know what has gotten into you, but I intend to get it out of you,” he vows. “I need you sensible and safe, not some wild thing making reckless decisions.”
What I need is a strong, dominant Kail keeping me sane, because I really think when the Colony came for us again, I lost the last bit of sanity I had been holding onto. I am tired of being hunted. I am tired of running. I am tired of being vigilant. I am ready to throw all caution to the wind.
But Kail isn’t ready to let me go. He keeps me firmly in place and he reminds me with every stern swat of the brush that what I do does matter, and that there is hope. Weird message to take away from an ass whipping, I guess, but that’s what I get.
“Are we done?” he asks me the question, putting the control back in my hands. If I say yes, I can feel this will end. If I run my mouth…
My ass is burning. It feels swollen and aching and I know that I’m going to feel this for a long time. But there’s a devil inside me that’s not done. I’m not ready to be comforted. I’m still angry, and frustrated. I’m still in fight mode.
“Sure, if your arm is tired,” I fire back.
I hear him exhale in a sharp snort. He tosses the hairbrush down on the bed beside me, abandoning that implement in favor of another.
I tighten my body, anticipating worse pain.
He slides me onto the bed and pulls both hands behind my back, securing them with the fuzzy cord of my dressing gown. I make small grunting noises that I hope he thinks are of complaint. I couldn’t stand it if he knew that I wanted this.