No.Focus.
I swerve onto the side of the road, halting so suddenly that she lurches forward, her chest restrained against the seatbelt. I grab my phone and type out a message to Logan.
She grew very scared when Lucy was mentioned. Figure it out.
Then I glance up at her. She’s looking at me like she knows that no matter what Noel told her, I have no plans to kill her just now. But she’s also looking like she doesn’t fully believe I’m not planning to fuck her, regardless of my threat to punish her in a way that wouldn’t bring her pleasure.
Maybe she’s right about that.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I get out, slam the door behind me, and make my way to her. I pull her out of the car.
“Get me a twig.”
She bites her lower lip, but under the arousal that I can tell is building in her, I read willfulness. “Why?” she questions, her eyes glued rebelliously on mine.
I click my tongue impatiently. She should realize that now isn’t the time for her little shows of defiance. She should realize we’re actually in motherfucking danger. But she’s standing resolutely before me, her arms crossed over her chest, eyeing me as if to dare me to do my worst.
Well, that’s exactly what I plan to do.
“You have ten seconds to do as I say,” I growl.
I start the countdown, and she waits until the last second to scurry off, exactly like a disobedient child. She returns moments later with the tiniest stick she could find.
She probably figures it will annoy me, but she’s clearly never been switched before. The thinner, the better.
I smooth it down with my knife, but not entirely. The stubs left over will add to the pain.
She eyes it resentfully, but she’s also shifting from one leg to the other, and I have to bite down on a snort as I note the obvious signs of her arousal.
But I won’t give her what she’s hoping for. Well, not yet.
“Hands out again,” I tell her. “Both of them.”
She looks up, startled, and the slight thrill I read in her eyes dies down. “Why?”
“Why do you think?” I roar. “Go on!”
She jumps at the sound of my loud voice, and before her mind has had time to catch up, her hands are thrust out in front of me.
“Last chance,” I warn. “Tell me what you’re hiding from me.”
She merely holds my gaze, her clenched jaw telling me shewon’t say a word. It’s exasperating to know she’s the only one standing in the way of her safety.
The thought riles me up, and before I know it, I’m bringing the branch down forcefully on one of her palms.
This is nothing like the blade of the knife. I was worried about cutting her accidentally, and besides, I was focused on driving. Now, my full attention is on her, and I use a lot more force to whip her.
She inhales loudly at the unexpected pain and clutches at her hand.
“Don’t move,” I say, “or I’ll hit harder.”
By sheer force of will, she manages to leave her palms out. Not a single word or sound leaves her lips as I continue to switch her, but her eyes are closed and her face is as pale as a sheet. By the time I’ve finished, her palms are crisscrossed with so many angry red marks that the pale skin underneath is barely visible. It’s going to take her a while to heal.
“Still don’t want to tell me?” I grunt.
Swallowing a great, shuddering sob, she shakes her head again.
Clenching my jaw in frustration, I tug down her dress in a loud ripping sound. She yelps in surprise as her breasts pop out.
