Page 15 of King of Temptation

Her apartment was like her—bright, welcoming, and more than a little chaotic. Splashes of color, mostly various shades of pink, were scattered all around the place. Along with clothes, stacks of books, and enough random piles of stuff to make his skin itch.

“Do you want a drink?”

Turning, he blinked down at her. “A drink?”

“Yes.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s customary to offer someone a beverage when they visit your home.”

“I’m only visiting your home to teach you a lesson about snooping in other people’s business.”

“So that means you can’t enjoy a crisp coke or a nice glass of whiskey first?”

“You are the most confusing person I’ve ever met.”

Her smile flashed, so bright it threatened to blind him. “That may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Shaking his head, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and set it aside, ignoring the gnawing desire to create some kind of order out of the chaos around him. He was here to do a job, and if he did his job well, he’d never see Goldie-slash-Marigold again.

Which is exactly how it should be. Even if the thought of never seeing her again made him want to take a page out of Killian’s book and snatch her away to his home where he would keep her forever, whether she liked it or not.

Giving himself a hard mental shake, he pinned her with a stern glare that had her golden eyes going wide as he unbuttoned his shirtsleeve. “Why are you getting spanked, Marigold?”

“Because you have no sense of adventure.”

Despite the bratty response, there was a ripple of fear in her voice that told him she was putting on a show. That was fine. Let her pretend, if that was what she needed to do to keep her pride for now. All he needed was to know the fear was there, so he could use it to impress on her how fucking dangerous her little game was. “I have a rather plentiful sense of adventure, Marigold Jane.”

At the use of her middle name, her eyes went even rounder, with more of that fear he was determined to instill in her filling the golden brown. “If you know my real name, why do you always call me Goldie? Nobody else calls me that except my readers.”

Because it fits you. All bright and shiny, like your eyes and everything else about you. “Do you really think that’s what you should be focused on right now, little girl?”

Her pupils darkened, eating up the gold, and he had to bite back a groan. “N-no, Sir,” she replied breathlessly, and it was all he could do not to yank her into his arms and claim her full, pouty lips.

“Much better,” he said instead, painfully aware his own voice had dropped to a low growl that had her pupils widening even further. But he ignored her reactions, focusing instead on rolling his second shirtsleeve to the elbow.

He had to pause again, however, when his gaze landed on the rise and fall of her breasts as she dragged in a deep breath. And for the first time he noticed the man, dressed like… an elf? Maybe? Whatever he was supposed to be, he had a woman in similar clothing draped over his knee, bound and gagged with a ball gag. Beneath the scene were the words Dungeon Daddy in bold letters.

Where the hell did she find these shirts?

Shaking off the distraction, he refocused on the task at hand. “Now, answer the question. Why are you being spanked?”

“Because you’re a bully with no sense of adventure,” she repeated, her chin jerking up in a show of defiance he couldn’t wait to tame.

Sighing heavily—more for show than anything because fuck if he wasn’t tempted to laugh at her brazenly bratty answer—he gripped the back of one of her dining chairs and pulled it free from the table. “We’ll do this the hard way, then.”

Before she could respond, he dropped down into the chair and grabbed her hand, yanking her across his lap. She went down with a yelp, her hands flailing out in front of her for balance. Taking advantage of her distraction, he hooked a finger in the waistband of her leggings and tugged them to her knees.

Revealing the most perfect, spankable ass he’d ever seen.

Focus, O’Rourke. You have a job to do.

Right. He was here to teach her a lesson, not worship her gorgeous ass.

And wasn’t that a damn shame.

Focusing on the job he’d come here to do, he tugged her panties down to her thighs, deliberately ignoring the way the pink satin clung to those beautifully round globes. When she was bare, he landed the first swat, allowing himself a moment to savor the way his handprint blossomed on her golden skin and her yelp of pain.

“You should know, menace, I’m a fan of doing things the hard way.” He swatted her again, adding a second pink handprint on her opposite cheek. “So you keep being a smartass, and I’ll keep spanking your ass. This is a win-win situation for me.”

“That hardly seems—ow!—fair!”