“You wouldn’t dare!” I gaped at him, pushing back against his hold.
His hand came down on my back side with a loud smack. I yelped and fought against his hold. Vines wrapped around my lower half, keeping me in place while he spanked me again on the other cheek.
“I can’t believe—” I cried out as his hand came down once more. “Unhand me at once.”
Blackthorn’s hand came down softly, smoothing over my sore bottom, as his other hand brushed through my hair. “I do not do this to hurt you. Only to teach you what is acceptable and what is not.”
“I’m not a child,” I snapped back, trying to twist around to glare at him.
His fingers tightened in my hair as he pulled my head back slightly, his face near my ear. “Then stopped acting like one.”
Blackthorn spanked me a few more times, every other one stopping to soothe my stinging flesh. Somewhere in the middleof it all, something started to stir within me. The pain, coupled by the gentle touch afterward, made my skin heat for an entirely different reason.
Suddenly, the hits stopped coming down and, for a moment, I thought it was over. A hand smoothed over my backside, moving precariously close to a part of me that had started to ache and slicken shamefully.
“It’s alright, you know,” Blackthorn murmured, teasing circles closer to my center. “To enjoy it.”
I gasped, shoving against him with renewed fervor. This time, he let me. I shoved my skirt back down and stumbled back from him. “I didn’t... I mean I wouldn’t...” I stumbled over my words as I tried to make sense of what happened.
Blackthorn crossed one leg over the other, his arms splayed over the back of the couch a smug expression on his face.
“The only one you’re lying to lovely is yourself. I can hear your blood rushing.” His eyes narrowed on the pulse at my neck before sliding down my body to my inner thighs. “You were not as upset as you wished to be by your punishment.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I scoffed, shaking my head.
When he only chuckled, I let out a low growl and stalked across the room. I threw myself into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure, my body sliding down the wooden surface as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
He was supposed to get mad at me. Toss me out on my ass. Not... whatever that was. How had it gotten so turned around? And why did I like it so much?
Chapter 18
I wasn’t afraid to admit that I stayed hidden in the bathroom until Fran came back, knocking on the bathroom door.
“Mistress? Are you alright?” Her voice was low and filled with concern. “Is there something I can get you?”
Blowing out a breath, I pushed myself to my feet and opened the door. Hoping she couldn’t see mortification on my face, I gave her a polite smile. “All good. Did you find the book you wanted?”
“Yes,” Fran drew out. “Did you and master resolve the clothing issue?”
Pushing past her, I moved over to the sofa and picked up one of the remaining books. I started to sit down and then hissed, trying not to wince as I settled onto the cushion.
Fran watched me with curious eyes.
“I’m fine.” Forcing a smile on my face, I patted her hand. “Really, I am. Let’s see about breaking... vase.” I winced at the substitution.
Fran thankfully let it go, and we continued the day as if nothing happened.
When Blackthorn came to bed that night, I pretended to already be asleep but made extra sure that I was on my side of the bed. I didn’t want a repeat of that morning, nor did I want him to know how much his punishment affected me.
Something clinked on the nightstand beside me. I forced myself to keep my eyes closed.
“I can hear your heartbeat. I know you’re not sleeping.” Blackthorn chuckled as he brushed my hair from my face. “But I’ll let you pretend for now. Put this on in the morning, it will help the sting.”
After a moment, he moved away from my side of the bed and then, a few minutes later, his side of the bed dipped. Feeling it was safe to open my eyes, I peeked at what he’d placed on the nightstand.
It was a jar of some type of cream.
I was tempted to give up the charade of sleeping in lieu of the cream — my backside still stung from earlier — except my pride wouldn’t let me. Scowling, I slammed my eyes shut and pretended I was just back at the factory. Rumple had punished me once again for being late for an order, or I’d stepped in the way of him punishing one of the younger ones.
