Page 53 of Obsession

Naturally, she hated what he was doing. She didn’t deserve any of it, and she sure as hell didn’t assent, yet Tucker had more than proven the argument he’d presented before he’d dragged her there to the bed. She was horny at his treatment, each swat amplifying her need, whether or not she understood its reasoning.

There should be nothing stimulating about any of this, yet the sting of his palm had morphed into something hot and slick, the moisture pooling copiously between her legs.

She inhaled as the next swat struck her, the resonance reverberating out from his strike, then back to the single focus of all the pleasure in her world—her throbbing clitoris. Tension crept into her muscles as the agony transformed into exquisite ecstasy.

Why do I love this?

“Forty-one, sir.” She inhaled. “Thank you.”

The truth was the words brought something akin to solace as she spoke them, as did the brush of his hand at her back. She wanted this, and he knew it. Worse was that she knew he wanted it, too.

Whatever messed-up ailment had infected her, it had clearly poisoned them both.

We deserve each other.

Her lips parted as he landed the next strike, then the next and the next. She heard herself articulating each number like the good little girl she’d apparently become, conscious of the heat at the apex of her thighs and his hand as it slid gently to her nape.

Her eyelids fluttered closed at the sense of possession. She liked the feeling of his fingers at the back of her neck almost as much as she liked them lodged in her cunt.

By the time the fiftieth swat had come and been counted, she could only think about feeling his cock inside her, and as his digits tightened at her nape, she accepted something else.

She’d never wanted anyone more than she wanted him.

Chapter Twenty-One

Communion

Ella

Slumped over him, Ella heaved in a breath as the realization washed over her like freezing water.

She longed for him.

Despite everything that had happened, the way he’d caught and punished her, she still desperately yearned for him.

Tucker—the man who’d thrown her over his shoulder and treated her like shit, the useless fucker who’d once befriended her inept father—he was the man she burned for?

How the fuck had this happened?

“Sir.”

Did she want him to stop? For this peculiar ritual to be over and never spoken about again, or did she want his blissful penance to continue until it tugged her back to ecstasy again?

Gasping over his knee, she couldn’t decide.

“Hmmm.” The hand that had spanked her slid lazily along her back.

“I want you.” Fleetingly, she mused how she probably shouldn’t tell him that, but then, what difference did it make now? He’d hauled her over his lap, hadn’t he? He’d heated her ass until she’d cried out and moaned for more. He might as well know how he made her feel. “I mean, I want you properly.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, little girl.” He smacked her bottom playfully, her brow creasing at the sting. “I’m not the kind of man you should want.”

What?

It was a bit fucking late for cautious propriety! What the hell did he mean? He was content to drag her around and spank her at will, ordering her to stay when she didn’t want to, and binding her around his cabin, but when she succumbed to his dark whims, he warned her away?

“I shouldn’t even be here,” she reminded him glumly. “You did this to me!” After everything he’d put her through, how dare he burst her precious bubble of pleasure. Confusion mingled with her hurt pride. “Remember, sir?” Her pulse quickened at her sarcastic tone, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

He deserved her spite.

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