Page 36 of Every Shade of Shadow

By the time he breaks the kiss, we're breathless. I take in his scent—a dying fire, a coming storm. Absolute abandon.

He moves away from me, pacing over to an antique chair in the middle of the room.

“But we’re just getting started,” he smiles.

He seats himself and pats his knee twice like he’s about to pull me close and read me a bedtime story. “Now, my pet, you must still be punished.”

I remain where I am.

He pats his knee again, but I don’t seem to clue in.

“Move,” he says, short. “You will get over my fucking knee or I’ll spank you where you stand.”

“Why?”

I realize I’ve made a mistake the second the word leaves my mouth.

His expression grows exasperated, as if, god forbid, he’d have to explain something. “There are twelve trials of sexual magic, my pet, each building upon the last, and we are to explore them all. And first,” he lifts his hand, “comes Verberare. Now,” he commands, tone sharper, “get that pretty little ass of yours over my knee.”

My mouth has gone desert dry. My legs move without instruction. I walk until I’m in front of the Professor and cannot believe I am about to do this, yet I do, placing my torso over his knee and letting my arms hang before me, fingers brushing the stone below.

This is so fucking awkward, so unnatural. All I feel is shame. It infiltrates every part of my body.

If Gran could see me now, if Sabrina… I can’t even bring myself to think about it.

Get up! the voice in my head screams, but I’m paralyzed, unable to disobey Darkwood. I’m completely deaf to logic.

When his heavy hand grabs an ass cheek, I actually flinch upwards, but he holds me down firmly, stroking the fleshy mound below, his hand easily spanning the globe of my ass. “I am going to spank you now, Annabelle.”

I swallow again.

Spank me? I’ve never been spanked in my entire life. My parents died when I was three and Gran would never lay a hand on me.

My cheeks burn like lit coal, the shame close to overwhelming.

The way he says my name makes it sound even more infantile and childish than usual. My cheeks glow brighter, blood rushing to my head.

“By the time I’m through with you, your ass is going to be the color of a candy apple,” he continues. “You are going to beg for my forgiveness.”

And all because I took one stupid book from the library.

I’m looking at the floor bent over his knee desperately trying to figure some way out of this fucked-up situation. But I have already given him my word. I have submitted to him. More than that, I know he is fixated on this punishment. Nothing I can say is going to stop him having his way.

I’m breathing heavily, my chest drawing tight before exhaling hard against Darkwood’s thick thigh. I grit my teeth, face burning knowing the humiliation and debasement that is to come by this man’s hand.

I hang over his knee dreadfully exposed.

He takes a handful of my flesh and squeezes, kneading and prodding, pulling my cheeks apart to reveal the pink rosette between them.

I’ve never been so ashamed in my entire life. If I were on top of him, on a more common horizontal surface like, I don’t know, a bed, it would be fine. But this…

He continues to knead and fondle the spheres as he speaks. “Tell me you need to be punished.”

I remain silent, which only irks him. “Say it!” he booms.

“I need to be punished,” I tell him, rushing all the words out together.

I can tell he’s excited by the way his voice becomes low and husky. “You’ve been a bad little lamb, haven’t you?”

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