“It’s mostly self-imposed, but he is a convenient target for some.” He rolled his shoulders then locked his hands behind his back. “Let’s talk about the blanket hanging in the bathroom.”
She tensed and guilt immediately tightened her belly. “I didn’t mean to get it dirty. I was using it to stay warm and didn’t realize how grimy the bottom edge was getting.”
“Did you go outside?”
They both knew the answer and lying to him would just intensify her punishment. “I had to see for myself that there was no way down. I’m a touch-the-stove-to-know-it’s-hot type of girl.”
His vivid green gaze locked on hers. “Do you accept the fact that you’re here until one of us flies you back to the village?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Did you endanger yourself by tromping around outside without the appropriate clothing?” He motioned toward her feet. “You don’t even have shoes, much less boots.”
“I’m resourceful,” she muttered.
“You’re disobedient,” he stated firmly. “You were told to stay inside, and you chose to ignore the directive. What happens when you disobey?”
A shiver dropped down her spine and her nipples gathered into hard little points. She wanted to blame it on the coolness of the cottage, but she tried not to lie to herself. She had always been attracted to Patrick and time had only added to his appeal. “I knew you would punish me, but I couldn’t sit here calmly until I’d at least attempted to escape.”
“Bend over the side of the bed. Keep your legs straight and move your feet wide apart.”
Her feet felt leaded as she crossed the room. She’d known this outcome was likely when she chose to leave the cottage. That didn’t mean she was anxious to begin. She made it to the bed but watched him instead of bending over.
He unzipped the backpack and pulled out a long, narrow strip of what looked like brown leather. “The buckle broke off this belt several months ago. We try not to throw anything away, but I hadn’t found a use for it.” He paused dramatically. “Until now.” He wrapped one end around his hand as he approached the bed. “That’s not the position I detailed.”
Stubbornly gathering her courage, Heather turned around and bent from the waist. She rested her forearms on the bed and stepped her feet apart.
“Wider,” he instructed.
With obvious reluctance, she moved her feet farther apart. “How many times did you try to escape?” She hadn’t meant to argue, but the question just slipped out. She closed her eyes and braced for his anger.
“Six,” he admitted. “The last time one of the guards broke my ankle. The bone was set, but the foot was not immobilized. I had to crawl to the bathroom for weeks or risk permanent injury.”
She twisted around so she could look at him. “I was the one who set your ankle, and I put you in a protective boot.”
“The guards took it away each time I left the clinic. Why would I lie about any of it?”
“I wasn’t accusing you of lying.” She turned back around with a sigh. “I’m sorry they hurt you.” Then on impulse she added, “I’m sorry I let them hurt you.” The strap made contact with her bottom and Heather gasped. The sting had been slight, but the strap impacted both cheeks in a single smack.
He rubbed her upturned cheeks then slapped each side several times with his hand. The strap had been more painful, but the hand spanking was more personal, more intimate. “Your body is addictive,” he muttered as he spanked her some more. “I don’t want to want you, but I do.” He straightened and swung the strap again.
Fiery pain sliced across her cheeks, dragging a muffled cry from her throat. She understood the conflict he described because ittwisted through her as well. She still had feelings for the Patrick she’d known back on Earth. That Patrick had been kind and funny, shrewdly intelligent and brave. But the male spanking her now was cold and cruel.
He swung again and again, covering her cheeks with hot ribbons of sensation. Heather fought back the need to clench her muscles. She remained open and still, accepting the punishment because she’d earned it. Her clit twitched and pressure began to build between her thighs.
“How can I desire someone I detest?” Patrick sounded genuinely confused and the next swat never came.
She wanted to scream at the irony. His need to punish her aroused her more than Gabriel’s patient seduction. A few more swats and she would have come. Instead, Patrick’s hesitation left her empty and aching, desperate for release.
As if summoned by her thought, Gabriel emerged from the bathroom. “You resent her. You don’t hate her. You never did.”
Patrick tossed the ruined belt aside and delivered three vicious swats with his hand before arguing, “This sure as hell feels like hate.” He reached down and squeezed both her ass cheeks. “Does that hurt, naughty slave?”
“Yes, Master,” she cried, squirming beneath his cruel hands.
He spanked one side in quick succession then moved to the other and delivered an equal number of stinging slaps. “You deserve the belt, but I need to feel your hot flesh beneath my palm.”
Heather’s restlessness grew with each hard swat. She liked this better too. She needed the tangible connection between his body and hers.
