Crack!
His palm landed on my right butt cheek with a force that shocked a gasp out of me. Holy shit. The sound echoed through the clearing like a gunshot, and sharp, stinging pain bloomed instantly across my skin. It hurt—a bright, shocking hurt that made my entire body tense with outrage.
“That’s one,” Stefano announced, his voice carrying a dangerous edge that hadn’t been there before. “I think ten should be sufficient for this lesson. Unless you’d like to argue for more?”
“Fuck you!” I spat, renewed fury giving me strength to struggle against his hold. My ass throbbed from the impact, pure pain radiating outward in waves that made me want to kick him in the face. “You sick, twisted, psychopathic excuse for a?—”
Smack!
The second blow landed on my left cheek, harder than the first. The switch in location caught me by surprise, and I jerked forward with a sharp cry of pain and indignation. Another bright burst of stinging heat made my skin feel like it was on fire.
“That’s two,” he counted, voice dropping lower. “And now we’re adding one for the disrespect. Your mouth keeps writing checks your ass has to cash, little wildcat.”
“You can’t do this!” I tried to reach back to protect myself, but he simply caught my wrist and pinned it to the small of my back, leaving me completely vulnerable. “This is assault, you absolute barbarian! What century do you think this is?”
“I can,” he replied simply, his thumb stroking my captured wrist in a way that felt inappropriately intimate. “And I am. Consider it a preview of what happens to omegas who push boundaries with alphas who are trying to protect them.”
Marco appeared in my limited field of vision, crouching down so his face was level with mine. His dark eyes gleamed with something predatory as he settled into position, clearly planning to stay for the entire show.
“Such fire,” he murmured, reaching out to brush hair from my eyes with infuriating gentleness that contrasted with the harsh treatment of my backside. “Even when you’re thoroughly caught. It’s fascinating to watch—the way you fight even when you’re completely helpless.”
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed, jerking my head away from his hand. “Unless you want to lose fingers. I hear they’re difficult to reattach after being digested. Though I’ve never actually tried the experiment, I’m willing to make an exception for you.”
His smile widened, teeth gleaming in the firelight. “The little wildcat still has claws, even when pinned. So much spirit, even in defeat.”
Crack! Smack!
Two blows in rapid succession, one on each cheek, not giving me time to anticipate or prepare. I bit down hard on my lip to trap the cry that tried to escape, my body jerking forward from the force. The pain was sharp and immediate, but something else flickered beneath it—a strange warmth that had nothing to do with the stinging heat of the impacts.
What the hell was that?
“I wonder what other sounds we could draw from you,” Marco mused, his eyes studying my face with disturbing intensity. His fingers traced the line of my jaw with featherlight touches that made me shiver despite my anger. “What happens when all that defiance starts to crack?”
Smack!
The fifth blow landed with precise accuracy at the junction where ass met thigh—a spot so sensitive it sent stars exploding behind my eyelids. But this time, along with the sharp burst of pain, something hot and electric shot through me, making my breath catch in a way that had nothing to do with hurt and everything to do with… something else. Something I didn’t want to acknowledge.
I couldn’t stop the half gasp that escaped this time, a sound that mortified me the instant it left my lips.
“Interesting,” Stefano murmured, and I could hear the dark curiosity in his voice. Immediately after the strike, his palm flattened, rubbing slow circles over the area he’d just punished. The contrast between the lingering sting and the soothing pressure created a sensation I’d never felt before—confusing, overwhelming, and decidedly not unpleasant.
“Such pretty sounds,” Marco said, his fingers cupping my chin gently. “And look at those lovely pink cheeks. Not just from the spanking, I think. You’re blushing, little wildcat.”
“Stop that,” I gasped, horrified by the breathless quality creeping into my voice. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it. This is—this isn’t?—”
I tried to turn my head away, but Marco’s hands framed my face, holding me steady as his thumbs brushed across my cheekbones. “Shh,” he murmured. “You’re doing so well. Taking your punishment like such a good boy.”
Crack!
This time his hand landed with deliberate precision on my right cheek, and the pain bloomed into something else entirely—a heat that raced through my body and settled low in my belly. My hips jerked involuntarily, pressing me down against his thigh, and I felt something that made my blood run cold with mortification.
I was getting hard.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I whispered, more to myself than to them. This was pain, humiliation, assault—it shouldn’t be causing this reaction. It shouldn’t be making heat pool between my legs or making my body seek friction against his muscled thigh.
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Stefano replied, his voice rough with something I didn’t want to identify. “Your body knows what it needs, even when your mind fights it.”
“Beautiful,” Marco murmured, his thumbs still stroking my flushed cheeks. “The way you respond, even when you don’t want to. Your body can’t lie, can it?”
