Her eyes slid away from his, and she sank lower in the water. “I just needed space to think about how to fix my mistake,” she muttered in an obvious lie.
“Are you so afraid of me?”
The way her eyes shot to his face in surprise made him exhale a breath he did not realize he’d been holding.
“No… a little afraid,” she admitted.
He smiled. “A little afraid is okay. Then… was it so horrible?”
The muscle in her cheek jumped again. “No,” she said, her voice sounding choked with tears.
“Then, why?”
“Cade.” Her eyes filled with tears as her body sank lower in the water. She cupped her hands and dipped them into the water, splashing her face. “What is this place, anyway?” she asked.
He allowed her to change the topic. “It’s a fetish lodge. My cousin owns it.”
“What’s a fetish lodge?”
“It’s a place where people’s sexual fantasies can come true.”
“Kinda like adult Fantasy Island?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is your cousin a shifter, too?”
“Yes. Bertram B. Wolfe.”
“As in the Big Bad Wolf? You guys aren’t too creative with your names, are you?”
He gave her a withering glance. “This from a fairy named Faye?”
“Touché.”
“Come on, fairy.” He stood. “You’ve soaked long enough.” He grabbed a towel and spread it wide for her. “Get out.”
He drank in the sight of her when she stood, her nubile body perfectly proportioned—the small, peach-tipped breasts perky, her hips curvy, and her legs long on her petite frame. His cock stood up again, pressing against his jeans.
He toweled her off, surprised when she stood docilely and allowed it.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked.
He turned her shoulders to face him. “Faye.” There was anache in his chest. He wanted to tell her he cared about her, how frightened he’d been when he thought she was lost in the storm. But he feared he’d been too pushy with her as it was. She ran away, after all. This was not the time to tell her he wanted to mark her as his own and mate for life. “You may not think so when I start spanking,” he quipped instead. He dropped the towel and led her out of the bathroom. “Go stand in the corner.” He swatted her ass.
“May I at least wear the towel? It’s too cold,” she whined.
“No towel, no clothes. You’re going to remain naked for the rest of the time we’re here. Don’t worry, I’m going to warm it up in here.” He arranged logs in the fireplace and crumpled newspaper to stuff underneath the grate.
“Even downstairs?” she asked from the corner.
He glanced up, smiling at the vision she made, her bottom facing out, ready for his discipline, her forehead resting on the place where the two walls met. “No, when you go downstairs, I will allow you to wear clothing, but you will not be permitted to leave the room without me.”
He lit the paper and the fire roared to life. Dragging the loveseat over, he arranged it in front of the glowing flames. He called room service and asked for a basic punishment kit, hot apple cider, and sandwiches to be sent up, then he returned to the bathroom, where he’d seen an ideal wooden hairbrush. He brought it to the loveseat and sat down.
“Come here, Faye.”
She looked over her shoulder, her honey-colored waves sweeping across her bare back. “No, thank you.”
