Page 51 of Obsession

Draped over him, she didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t fight back. She didn’t stand a chance against him. She’d seen his muscular body and had mewled at how his flesh felt as it brushed and pressed over hers. He was huge and strong and in control. Even when she had an advantage, she was never going to outrun, outfight, or outmaneuver Tucker Bowman.

“There’s my good girl.” His patronizing tone goaded her.

Yes, he had the propensity to scare the shit out of her. She’d already met the beast that lurked inside him—the monster that had dangled her in the barn and taken advantage of her and the one who’d walloped her pussy while she’d been tied to his bed. Her breath caught as she recalled that particular punishment. The strikes had hurt like hell, yet she vividly recalled the way that pain had altered, transforming into slick hedonism. She loathed and feared the fiend inside him, but she knew that ogre had the ability to manifest the most intense pleasure.

“Now, how many strikes does a naughty girl like you need, I wonder?”

His question echoed over her, although she didn’t know if it required an answer.

“I don’t deserve any strikes.” She regretted the petulant reply in an instant.

“Is that right?” His voice hardened, and her heart rate spiked at the sound. “I guess we’ll agree to disagree about that, but thanks for reminding me that I call the shots.”

What? Is that what she’d done?

“I say we start with fifty strikes.” His hand patted her rump almost fondly.

“Fifty?” Was he having a fucking laugh? Rage exploded in her head as reflexively, she tried to get up from her place. “You can’t!” she complained. “That’s too many, sir, I—”

Her sentence was splintered by his vast palm as it left her skin only to come crashing down hard on her prone backside. Her lips parted at the impact, her eyes wide as she recalled just how severe Tucker’s swats could be.

Holy fuck! Dread twisted in her throat, making it hard to breathe, but even as she struggled to take air, one thought dominated her mind.

If that was one strike, she would never survive fifty of them.

Chapter Twenty

Discipline

Tucker

Ella squealed as his palm smashed against her skin again.

“How many, little girl?” His hard tone was intentional as he waited for her obedience.

That had been an impromptu part of his plan since he’d flung her in place over his lap. The original scheme, designed in part from his desire to liquefy her sex and claim her again, had only been to spank her playfully and test how his hand warmed her up, but the reality had turned into a far crueler affair.

He’d lost track of time since her punishment had started. Not that the metric held much weight in the sweet confines of the forest. The woods were measured in the passing of days and seasons. All man-made dimensions were irrelevant.

His lips curled at the gorgeous woman sprawled over him. He must be the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the world to have captured a jewel as wonderful as Ella, yet her beauty wouldn’t empower her to get away with disrespect.

Not this time.

Stroking the skin of her upper thigh, he wondered how many times her loveliness had facilitated upgrades and provided excuses for her. How many people had let her get away with untold sins just because of her pretty face and extraordinarily hot body?

Too many.

Despite his undoubted attraction to the gorgeous blonde, he would ensure this was not one of those times.

He wanted to see how far he could push until she crumbled, and in the process, he intended to make sure she knew what would happen when she defied him. He liked the fire inside her and wouldn’t do anything to extinguish the spark entirely, but it was time his little girl accepted what turned her on. Part of that complicated process was her abject denigration, demonstrated wonderfully by his demand that she numbered each fresh spank.

“Ella.” His tone deepened, reminding her of his expectations. “Do you need me to add another ten swats?”

“No.” Her voice nearly broke as she answered, and he massaged the small of her back in reply. “Twenty-nine, sir.”

Poor little Ella.

The endurance spanking had been going on for a long time—twenty-nine swats worth, to be precise. That was, he assumed, longer than she’d ever been held down and spanked before, and in fairness, Tucker wasn’t holding back as he tanned her hide. Presumably, she hadn’t seen this coming, but then why would she? His little girl barely knew him at all.

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