“Have you eaten?”
“Yes.” I barge past him, still angry about him keeping me cooped up here. I know he says it’s for my own good, but I can take care of myself. I have this far, even with my PTSD.
“Are you always like this when it’s your time of the month?”
“Like what?”
“Moody.”
“Only with kidnappers and assholes.”
“You keep giving me attitude, foxy, and I’ll have to punish you.”
“What will you do, send me to my room?” I lift my finger in the air. “Oh wait. I don’t have one.”
His eyes flare, changing from a whiskey brown to a dark rum within seconds. He stalks over to me. Eyes blazing like I’ve never seen on a man, almost as if he’s possessed by the devil himself.
My heart pounds against my ribs as if I’ve run a marathon. I turn around and run to the bedroom before he can reach me and shut the door, but there’s nothing to jam the handle.
“You can’t hide from me, little fox.” The handle turns down despite my best efforts to hold it and lean against the door with all my weight.
When the door pushes open with my bottom sliding along the carpet, he stands in the doorway with a fucking rope in his hand. I crawl backwards, my bum shuffling along the floor until I reach the edge of the metal bedpost.
With two big strides, he’s towering above me. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. It’s up to you, Red.”
I gulp, then turn my body to climb onto the bed to scramble to the other side.
Before I can make it halfway across the bed, his weight is bearing down on me. The spicy scent of him mixed with tobacco invades my senses. His deep timber vibrates in my ear. “Caught you.”
I suck in a breath, but I’m not afraid. I’m aroused. So freakin’ aroused, especially when I feel him harden. His hips press against my ass and the bulge in his jeans digs into my cheeks.
He wraps the rope around my wrists, binding my hands to the metal bedpost at the foot of the bed. I’m on all fours and panting like a dog, but my heart is beating like a rabbit.
He moistens his lips, taking his time to glide his knuckles down my spine in an attempt to soothe me. “Shhh. If you take it like a good girl, it will be over with quickly.”
My legs tremble as his palm strokes my arse cheeks over my leggings. “You said you wouldn’t take me against my will.” My voice is a whimper.
His hand slips lower where my thighs meet. I clench my muscles to stop him from slipping between them, but my core pulses, needing more of his teasing strokes.
“I respect your boundaries, Red. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. If you want me to stop, you only have to call red. But you need to learn that I know what’s best for you and stop giving me your sass.” He runs a hand through my hair and makes a fist, tugging the hair at my scalp. My head tilts back as a breathy moan escapes from my lips. Heat rises, flushing my face at how much I enjoy being at his mercy.
“You ready?”
“For what?”
Before I know what’s happening, my leggings are yanked down as swift as his palm connects with my backside with a loud crack. I’m jolted forward at the impact and a grunt protrudes from my mouth. “What the fuck. You bastard.” My centre weeps. I’m annoyed at how much my vagina is betraying me right now. I thought we were friends.
“Remember your safe word, Red.” He spanks me again. My cheeks tense. I hold my breath, bracing myself for the next one. Anger bubbles under the surface, determined never to give him the satisfaction of using a fucking safe word.
“Is that the best you can do? My daddy spanked me harder than that when I was five.”
His palm cracks against my cheek, much harder than the previous two, and I let out an involuntary yelp. His hand in my hair tightens. “I am your fucking daddy. And don’t you forget it.”
He growls, kneading my sore cheek and caressing the sting. I lean back into him, coaxing his hand to delve a little lower. My hands fist the sheets, imagining him finger fucking me, then I remember my period. The elastic of my leggings digs into my skin, telling me that despite my cheeks on show, I still have my modesty. I’m not fully exposed or completely humiliated, which is something, at least. Although I refuse to submit to him.
“There’s so much I could do to you, Red. Don’t tempt me. I could tear you apart and have you for dessert. You smell so fucking sweet.” His lips press against the sting. I gasp, then he’s biting me there on my raw hide. “So succulent, Red. I want to just eat you up.” He bites me again, and this time I yelp. My whole body trembling, but not with fear. I’m on the cusp of an orgasm.
The words dripping from his tongue go straight to my hungry sex that’s desperate for more. Just one more spanking, one more filthy word, anything, and I’ll detonate.
