Page 31 of Addiction

She did want this, but she wasn’t sure how she’d been so calm about the idea only a few moments before.

“With your h-hand, sir?” She risked meeting his eyes.

“Yes, with my hand. What else?”

Instinctively, her focus flitted to the hairbrush still sitting by his thigh, and she cursed the reflexive response.

Oh God. She stiffened as his attention followed her stare to the plastic brush. Oh God, why am I looking at the damn thing? I’m giving him fucking ideas!

“The hairbrush?” His tone was inquiring. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Y-yes,” she stammered. “I mean, no… sir.” She forced herself to look away, not wanting to reinforce the concept.

“You thought I’d use the hairbrush on you?”

What was that in his voice? Disgust or delight? She couldn’t be sure from her place on the floor.

“I didn’t know if that’s what you meant, sir.” Her brows knitted as she tried to fathom how she’d allowed this to happen. It seemed as though Tucker hadn’t even been thinking about the brush until she’d raised the matter, but now that she’d thrown the premise out there, who knew what he’d choose to do?

“It wasn’t what I meant.” His expression was knowing. “But thank you for the imaginative idea, little girl.”

“Sir, no!” Something akin to genuine fear resounded in her chest as her imploring eyes met his. How could she have been stupid enough to have given him the odious suggestion? “I don’t deserve the brush.”

“This is a punishment, Ella.” He leaned closer until his damp hair grazed her temple. “I decide what you deserve.”

Her breaths were ragged as she was forced to accept the truth of his words. There were only two choices. She could get up and run, risking the destruction of the blissful symmetry they’d both worked so hard to create, or she could stop permitting her terror to dictate to her and just succumb.

Give in to him.

She blew out a long breath at the humbling thought. She’d done so before, and Tucker had rarely allowed her to regret her submission. It was true that he’d torn through her limits in the barn, but ever since, he’d brought her enormous pleasure as well as being increasingly attentive to her needs.

“Okay.” Her shoulders slumped as acceptance washed over her.

This sensual compliance was what she wanted. Sure, she didn’t especially want another punishment, but a part of her acknowledged that she might merit the pain. Whether she’d intended to or not, she had upset Tucker, and she was sorry for it. The sooner she acknowledged both the spanking and the fact she enjoyed capitulation, she could stop working so hard to resist both. She’d wager they’d be happier then.

“Okay?” His eyebrow cocked in that same tantalizing way it did when he was unimpressed with her.

“Yes.” Her voice sounded tiny in the expanse of the enormous room, and she had to force out the final confirmation. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He yanked at the front of her robe. “Get rid of this and get your wonderful ass over my lap.” Releasing her, he sank back onto the seat, his gaze expectant. “I’m waiting, little girl.”

She swallowed at the hard, uncompromising look in his eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was inspire a more ferocious spanking than he already had in mind. Loosening the tie at her waist, she shrugged out of the robe and knelt naked by his feet.

This was it. The moment she proactively consented to his spanking, and even though it wasn’t the first time she’d ceded to him, it was different from before. The warm light of day spilling through the window confirmed the point. They were no longer in the deep, dark forest. He wasn’t making her do anything. This time, she chose to submit, and the dynamic between them had shifted as a consequence.

No longer his captive in the barn, she was more than the bound woman he’d found in the woods. Briefly, she considered the irony of that thought. It was her assessment that his cabin was ‘crappy’ that had landed her in the hot water she currently faced. Tucker was a softer man than before, but sitting on the couch waiting for her, he was still the same granite giant who’d captured her, and, on some level, she knew she was still his prisoner. Her eyes widened as the thought reverberated. Her new cell might be his plush penthouse, but she supposed it was every bit as much a prison as his hut had been.

With one deep breath, she climbed to the seat above her and draped herself over his lap.

Chapter Thirteen

Past the Breaking Point

Tucker

His palm tingled as it landed over her reddening backside, the noise of the impact ringing around him as he pressed his hand against her warm flesh.

“How are you doing, little girl?” He glanced toward her face, still buried in the sofa’s cushion.

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