The words, spoken aloud, sounded ridiculous. Yet the memory of Magnus's hand on Leightons' body, their kiss like sin and salvation, roared through me.
My silence betrayed me.
Magnus swore under his breath, sharp and ugly. "Bloody hell, Lisa." He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing a tight circle before pinning me with a look that burned hotter than fire. "Do you truly think so little of us? So little ofyourself? Were we notclearin all our interactions with you how much we wanted you?"
My heart thundered painfully. "What else was I supposed to think? What I saw... what I heard... It was...What else was I supposed to think?" I was shouting by the end, overwhelmed by everything.
But most of all, by the fact that I might have made a mistake.
Leighton caught my face between his hands, lowering his forehead to mine. His face was unfocused, and I realized it was because of the tears in my own eyes. "Then hear this now, sweetgirl. We didn't bring you here to hide us. We need you because you are ours. You belong with us. Because the three of us together are more than Magnus and I could ever be alone."
Magnus stepped in close again, his large hand settling possessively on the back of my neck. His voice was a low growl, but there was something raw beneath it. "I'm sorry that my actions weren't clear enough, little filly. I apologize that anything we did ever made you doubt us." He pressed a tender kiss against my forehead. An action so unlike the rough, dominant man I'd grown to know that it undid me even more. "But now, now that we have this mess cleared up between us, I'll leave you with no doubt how much we care about you."
His thumb brushed along my nape, deceptively gentle, before his tone dropped darker still. "But first, I'll have you over my knee so you'll never think of leaving us again."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Was this really happening to me? Was I going to let a man lay hands on me in punishment?
Magnus guided me toward the armchair before the fire, his hand firm at my back. My knees locked, and for a wild instant I thought I might bolt again. But Leighton's hand wrapped around mine held me steady. There was no escape. Not this time.
"Over you go, filly," Magnus said, his voice a low command that went right through me and vibrated in my chest. He sat, tugging me gently but unyielding down across his lap. The position alone had my breath stuttering, shame and heat tangling in equal measure.
"This isn't right," I whispered, barely audible, even to myself.
Magnus's palm smoothed over my back, down the curve of my hip. "No, filly," he murmured, his tone soft but cutting through all the tension. "Nothing else has ever been more right. And deep down, you know that. Youcraveit."
He stroked down my hip again, but that time, when his hand came back up, he brought my skirts with it. Within moments my drawers were exposed to the air, and he was tsking at the fabric obstructing him. Leighton helped him remove myundergarments, and by the time they were done, my face was flushed.
This time, with nothing but embarrassment at being exposed so.
"Do you want to know what else?" Magnus continued to murmur to me, his husky voice only serving to increase the ache building between my legs.
"What?" I breathed out.
"Once you give yourself over to us completely, acknowledge that you belong to us... that's when you'll feel more free than you ever have in your life. Because with us guarding you, protecting you, guiding you, you'll no longer be constricted by societal norms. You can justbe."
Dear lord.
It sounded amazing.
I was still lost in his words when the first sharp crack landed, a shock that had me yelping and gripping the edge of his knee. My face flushed even hotter than the sting blooming across my flesh. Magnus continued to rain down sharp, hot smacks on my backside as he spoke.
"For running from us," he said evenly, his hand soothing over the ache he'd caused.
For a brief moment I thought we were done, but he lifted his hand again.
The next set of smacks echoed in the study, harder this time, stealing the breath from my lungs.
"For eavesdropping where you had no right," he continued, each word punctuated with his palm coming down on me. "For letting fear dictate your choices instead of trusting us." After each sentence a caress followed, achingly gentle. His fingers carefully stroking my sensitized skin as though he couldn't bear to truly hurt me.
Another sharp sting made me squirm, whimpering despite the dampness gathering shamefully between my thighs.
"For working as a tavern wench." Magnus growled this out, the bite of his hand sharper for that offense. "Do you have any idea the filth you put yourself among? Those men should count themselves lucky Leighton and I didn't take out their eyes for the leers they'd directed your way."
My rear was on fire. But he wasn't done. Not by a long shot.
He soothed the ache, but with how sensitive I was, the motion of his hand on my skin was almost too much. Or not enough.
