Page 48 of Obsession

Why was she blushing? Ella used to be adept at deception, lying to and manipulating men to suit herself, but for some reason, her body seemed determined to give her away to Tucker.

“So… if I spanked you again, I wouldn’t find you getting wetter every time my palm met your delicious cheeks?”

“Spank me?” She avoided his question on purpose. “Why would you do that, sir?”

Why did I ask?

She should have been reminding him how she didn’t deserve a so-called spanking, how no one had the right to treat her that way, yet as she stared at his blue eyes, all she could think about was what it would be like to feel the brunt of his palm against her ass again. His strikes were hard and had hurt, but as the pain had grown, the sensation had morphed into pleasure. So much fucking pleasure. Even during the first spanking in the forest, she’d become shamefully wet at the onslaught.

“We’ve already established I’ll spank you as a punishment.” His eyes sparkled as he no doubt also recalled the previous penances. “But there is another type of spanking.”

“Oh?” Her voice was embarrassingly hoarse. “What’s that, sir?”

“Well, little girl.” He moved to the front of the chair, closing the distance between their faces. “I could spank you for fun.”

For fun?

Her breath hitched at the possibility. There should have been absolutely nothing fun about being thrown over a man’s lap and made to submit to his enormous and furious palm, yet experience had taught her that, whatever her qualms, there could be. ‘Fun’ might have been pushing it, but she had relished elements of her spankings.

“For fun?” she probed.

“Sorry?” His clipped tone sent her heart racing faster again.

“Sir,” she added quickly.

Shit, how had she forgotten? Apprehension soared in her as she tried to decipher the intense look in his eyes. Was he angry or simply toying with her? Neither response would have surprised her.

“You’ll do well to remember, Ella.” His wry tone suggested she wasn’t really in trouble, but the firmness laced within it suggested she shouldn’t truly relax.

Yes, Tucker had relented in the last hour. He’d fed and consoled her before taking her outside and showing her the peculiar little flowers that seemed to fascinate him. But whatever the case, he was still her jailor, the man who decided if she ate, slept, or would ever walk free again. She’d be wise to remember who he was.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Her fingers blanched as she gripped the blanket tighter. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m sure.” His expression gave nothing away as one of his huge hands rose to steady the side of her face. She stilled at his touch, wondering what was coming next. “But the rule is clear, and from now on, you will call me sir, or you’ll learn what other kinds of punishments I can come up with. Maybe you’ll like those, too.”

Like those, too?

She tensed at his mocking tone. She never had a choice, she realized, but to succumb and give him what he wanted. The fact she might actually enjoy the address he sought was irrelevant. To stay safe, she’d need to remember to use it.

“Okay, sir.”

She forced the words out, her emotions trapped somewhere between terror and exhilaration. Tucker fascinated her, yet she sensed it was sensible to fear him. An ex-soldier with access to ample cash and other assets, he was inherently dangerous, but his cavalier approach to her welfare told her he had the potential to be lethal.

Like those strange little flowers again…

“I bet,”—his breath was warm against her face—“if I spanked you again now, I’d make that sumptuous little pussy wetter than it’s ever been.”

“You wouldn’t, sir.” Her tongue ran reflexively along the back of her teeth. She was breathing faster, disclosing her deception despite her best intentions not to.

“You’re lying to me again, little girl.” The resonance oozing from his voice was less disapproval and more amusement. His lips were so close, she hoped he’d lean in and kiss her, but however close he got, his mouth never seemed to skim hers. “If you can’t accept the truth, even to yourself, then it’s time I proved it to you.”

Chapter Nineteen

The Games He Played

Tucker

Tucker knew better. He shouldn’t be playing with her. Games were not what her captivity was about, yet as his fingertips brushed over her heated skin, he couldn’t help himself.

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