Page 42 of The Strength Of A Woman

“Do that again, and I’m gonna fuck you.”

“Do that again, and you’ll be dead.”

Laughing, he undoes his fly.

I close my eyes, unwilling to have the image of his erect dick imprinted in my memory.

“Don’t worry, doll. It’s not for you. I need to touch myself while I’m punishing you.”

“You’re dead, Julian.”

“Shut up. You might like it.”

I try to reach his legs and even punch him in the balls, but he is tall and muscular enough to keep me under control.

He grabs my hemline and slides my skirt over my bum.

“White panties. How fetching,” he says, and the first time his belt snaps across my ass makes me scream in agony.

“Do that again. Scream for me, pumpkin. It gets me hard.”

Logically, I stay quiet as he hits my rear nineteen more times.

By the time he’s finished, my ass burns as if I sat on a stove. I curse him loudly so he knows how I feel about him before he starts moving toward the door.

I side-eye him, panting and grimacing, as he fixes his fly on his way out.

“You tell anyone about this, and I’ll tell everyone that you’re dying to fuck Callum O’Hara. And by the way, I’ll deny everything you say about me. They know you’re crazy and like to make things up.”

“They think the same about you.”

“Perfect,” he says, winking at me. “It’s gonna be your word against mine. No one will believe either of us. Plus, they have bigger things to worry about.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, pushing upright.

“Your future husband.”

“What?”

“Uh-huh.”

A knowing grin tilts his lips.

“What do you know about my future husband?”

“Uh…”

He props his hand against the doorframe and glances up, running his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know whether you should know more about this. Maybe it should be a surprise.”

I rise, my skirt falling over my rear.

“Please tell me,” I say evenly, trying not to look too interested in what he has to say. “What do you know about my future husband?” I ask again.

He searches my eyes with great satisfaction.

Nothing makes him feel better than the idea that he has something that I want.