“And what about Shepherd and Asher? Do you think they have ulterior motives as well?"
Evie's throat tightened, and she shook her head. She was such a fool.
“Good,” Shepherd grumbled. “Because I love you too, and believe me, it wasn’t something I planned.”
If things hadn’t been so serious, Evie might have laughed at how disgruntled he sounded at the admission.
“And that goes for me, too,” Asher added, his usually cheerful countenance unusually somber.
Evie wanted to cry already. Knowing she’d hurt them wounded her far more than any spanking ever would.
Gabe shifted, and Evie could feel every inch of him beneath her, the hard planes of his chest, the rigid length of his arousal pressing against her bare center. There was no denying how he felt about her. “Now, you’ll take my belt like a good girl, and that will be the end of it.”
Chapter
Twenty-Six
EVIE
Good girl. The words pinged around her brain like pinballs. She so wanted to be his good girl, to atone for thinking so badly of him and have the slate wiped clean.
“This is not going to be an erotic spanking, Evie. It’s going to be a proper punishment spanking. But you can say stop at any time, and I will do so. Shepherd and Asher will make sure of it. Do you understand?”
Evie swallowed and nodded.
“I need to hear your words, Evie.”
“I understand.” The words came out hoarse, but she meant them. She’d done him a serious disservice and needed to make it up to him, as much for herself as for Gabe.
“Okay then. Up you get.”
Asher and Shepherd helped her up and maneuvered her so she was lying over the stool. Her legs quivered and her stomach knotted, but she wasn’t afraid.
Two sets of hands gripped her hips, positioning her how they wanted. The cool air kissed her overheated skin, and she was acutely aware of how exposed she was—bottom raised, legsspread slightly for balance, everything on display for the three men who surrounded her. The position left her completely open.
"Ten strokes," Gabe said from somewhere behind her. "Count them out loud. If you lose count, we start over."
Evie's fingers curled around the edge of the stool, gripping tight. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out everything except the sound of her own ragged breathing.
The first crack of leather against her already tender flesh stole the air from her lungs. Fire bloomed across her backside, so different from the sting of hands. This was sharper, more intense, the burn radiating outward in waves that made her toes curl.
"One," she gasped, the word barely audible.
Another stroke landed, precisely parallel to the first. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, not from pain alone but from the overwhelming emotion of it all. The shame of doubting them. The relief of being forgiven. The strange comfort of accepting consequences.
"Two."
The third stroke fell lower, catching the sensitive spot where her bottom met her thighs. Evie cried out, her body jerking forward before gentle hands - Shepherd's, she thought - steadied her.
"Three." Her voice cracked on the number.
Between each stroke, there was a pause. Long enough for the burn to settle deep into her flesh and for her breathing to even out just slightly before the next one came. Gabe wasn't rushing this. He wanted her to feel every single stroke, to understand the weight of what she'd done.
The fourth landed with a sharp crack that echoed in the small back room. Evie squeezed her eyes shut, tears finally spilling over onto her cheeks.
"Four."
She'd doubted him. She thought of the worst of this incredible man who'd shown her nothing but care and devotion. She demeaned what the four of them shared, even though all they’d ever done was make her feel cherished and wanted and seen for the first time in her adult life. And she'd let that poisonous woman plant seeds of insecurity that had taken root far too easily in the damaged soil of her self-worth.
