“Not like this. Not by him,” Cassius says, scowling.
A strained laugh escapes her. “No, not by him.” Her face turns serious. “But maybe by someone else.”
Their eyes meet.
Silence blooms between them, tense and tempting. Cassius licks his lips while Claudia bites hers. She sits up straight. Does Cassius want to play? Here? Now? Claudia certainly does. A bit of pain and a bite of pleasure would be a welcome distraction from all this existential dread.
She needs him to leave a mark on her, if only to make his existence meaningful in a lasting, tangible way.
Neither of them can look away from the other.
“You know what I want, don’t you?”
“Say it,” Cassius says quietly, his body still as stone, as if he fears one wrong move could destroy the moment.
Her breath catches. “I want to be punished.” She slips out from her chair and stands beside her desk. He mirrors her movements, now standing across from her, still out of reach. Tension heats the air.
Slowly, she turns her back to him and grips the edge of her desk on either side. This is exactly what she planned to ask for after their date, but they never made it back to his room. This desire has been burning under her skin since the first time she got on her knees for him. Over her shoulder, she says, “I want you to give me what you promised.”
He strides toward her and slides his hand around her waist, pulling her body into his. “Say it clearly.” His sharp jaw scrapes her ear. “Tell me exactly what you need.”
She arches her back. “I want you to spank me, Cassius.”
He stiffens against her. For a moment, Claudia worries she’s said the wrong thing and made everything worse than it already is. Her breathing becomes heavy. Cassius runs his hand up her body and gently drags his fingers across her jaw, turning her face to meet his.
“Place your elbows on the desk.”
She obeys. He pulls her dress up over her hips, exposing her bare skin. Cool air brushes over her, making her keenly aware of the wetness that is already dripping between her legs.
“Fuck,” he whispers behind her, awestruck and desirous. His hand is braced at the small of her back and guides her down.
She shivers when he runs his hands gently up the back of her thigh, over the swell of her hips, settling on her backside. His fingers circle softly upon her skin. When he lifts his hand, a rush of cold air washes over the warm spot where his palm had been resting. His hand swings back down with a forceful, stinging, deliciously earned slap. She looks over her shoulder at him, eyes wide.
“More?” he asks. His face is stoic and neutral, but his eyes are wild.
“More.” This brings exactly what she’d hoped for—a feeling of atonement.
He doesn’t speak. He keeps his eyes on hers and raises his brows, waiting for something.
“Please,” she adds. She needs him to keep going. She needs to be absolved of so much guilt—for killing her father, for selling her soul, for hurting Cassius.
He smirks as his hand comes down, delivering another hard slap. Claudia’s gaze snaps forward. She winces.
Another spank sounds sharply through the air, almost like glass breaking.
“Count them out loud,” Cassius commands.
“Three,” she whimpers.
“More?”
“Please. More.” More for blackmailing Lamour into teaching her. More for betraying him anyway.
His hand swings down even harder this time.
“Four.” More for having no idea how to save Cassius and ruining any chance she had of figuring it out.
Slap.
