Page 54 of Pretty Little Thing

Thirteen

Nora

The crop grazes my armpit,causing an involuntary spasm in my elbow, and my left hand lurches off the table.

Clive immediately slaps the back of my hand, this time harder than before. I cringe, biting my lip at the sharp, stinging pain. I rest my hand back down but it trembles on the table’s surface.

He moves his touch up my waist, slowly crawling around my body to rest just beneath my breasts. Warm pleasure tingles me from the places he touches, completely neutralizing any pain my brain thinks I felt. I can hardly even remember it.

I look at my hands. Steady as rocks.

Clive slides his boot between my feet on the floor and nudges them apart. I put my weight in my hands and shift my legs wider.

“More,” he demands.

I take another step out, putting tension on my skirt.

“If I go too far, say wait,” he says, reminding me. “If you want to stop, saystop.”

My teeth chatter. “What are you going to do?”

His hand falls from my belly and slips down my leg to hook the hem of my dress.

The riding crop touches my ankle and I flinch, quickly remembering that it’s still there. He slides it up my calf to my knee, tapping between them twice as it inches underneath.

“Clive?”

The crop slaps on the table next to my hand. “Mr. Snow,” he corrects me.

“What are you going to do, Mr. Snow?” I ask again.

He pinches my chin and draws my head back. “I’m going make you move your hands,” he whispers.

“Yeah, but how—”

His lips envelope mine and I drop the question. The heat of his kiss makes my ankles sway and I lose all sense of what I was doing. I kiss him back, reaching upward to touch him on the back of his neck.

He snatches my wrist in mid-air and slams it back down to the table before I even realize my mistake.

I brace myself for the quick sting of his crop. With pinched eyes, I wait, counting the seconds until it’s all over with but... it doesn’t happen.

I crack one eye open as the crop’s tip grazes the back of my guilty hand.

“That’s how,” Clive whispers in my ear. “I’m going to touch you, Ms. Payne. I’m going to touch every inch of your body just so I can say I have.”

I take a gasping breath. “Are you going to...”

The question falls but he figures out the rest of it. “Would you try to stop me if I did?” he asks.

I quiver, feeling his front pressed against my back and the hard bulge digging into my ass.

“I want you to think,” he says. “Think of all the things that could happen right now, every single possibility. I want you to tell me what you wouldn’t allow. These are your hard limits.”

I furrow my brow. My mind is running a mile a second. I can hardly keep up with my pulse. “Can I have an example?” I ask.

“Can I put a knife to your skin and draw blood?”

“No!” I cringe. “God, no!”

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