Page 20 of Lord of Debauchery

Was he really kidding me? No one had treated me this way. Not even my father. Sure, he’d beaten up on my brother a couple of times, but it seemed that level of punishment was required for male kids of my father’s brutal sperm. The bastard. But I’d been considered his little princess. Something I abhorred to this day.

I hadn’t realized he’d backed away until I heard him whistle. That’s when I tried one more time to bolt out the kitchen door.

“No, you don’t.” He easily snapped his hand around my arm, tugging me back. This time he didn’t bother with the table, still whistling as he jerked out one of the chairs, bouncing me on his lap given the force he used in pulling me down. “This will be much better and I think deliver a far more powerful message.”

Everything about his actions seemed off kilter to me. Ruthless men such as he was didn’t take the time to dole out punishment to anyone. I’d seen that firsthand. Why was he doing this? Because our attraction was like white-hot lightning? Maybe. Or maybe he was making fun of me for trying to protect myself. He’d managed to shock me on more than one level and he was doing so again, including by easily maneuvering my shorts down my hips, taking my thong with them.

When my butt was fully exposed, I knew I’d gasped or screeched or something.

“Careful now. I doubt you want an audience. Or do you? Maybe you get off on a little sin and shame.” He was laughing, the dark and husky sound keeping me in a strange sense of awe or maybe my mind was wrangling with the various ways I wanted to kill him.

I could be considered lethal given what I’d learned over the years.

Even stranger was the pain that flashed down my legs as he cracked some implement across both ass cheeks at the same time was followed by an immediate feeling of raw pleasure.

“What in God’s name did you use?’ I gasped, although I wasn’t certain why I wanted to know. What did it matter? It was impossible not to yelp as the harsh reality of what he was doing was slammed into my mind.

He was obviously having the time of his life. I knew that when he twirled a fucking wooden spoon in front of my face. “I might not be able to cook, little princess, but boy, do these things come in handy for other things.” He delivered four more and I froze on his knee, moaning and cursing.

It was stilling and far too powerful for all the wrong reasons. If the bastard really thought I got off on acts of shame, then he was nuts.

There was something far too playful about the way he tapped out a rhythm on my butt, moving from one side to the other. I did my best to get the hell off his lap but I only ended up humping him like some wild dog, before he simply threw one of his muscular legs over both of mine.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

Panting, the combination of anguish and sheer bliss nearly tore my mind apart. The fact I was getting wetter by the second was the most repulsive aspect of this entire situation. It wasn’t normal for your nipples to be rock hard during a spanking. Or so I hoped.

“Boss. Jesus. I thought something was wrong.” Hearing Jeff’s voice startled me.

At least the way Beckham had jerked me over his lap allowed me to lift my head. I could feel heat sliding up both sides of my face but maybe, just maybe I was hiding some of my naked ass.

If I’d believed Beckham to be lacking in the gentlemanly skills before, he decided to prove it by bringing down the spoon four or five additional times before answering his soldier. God, I couldn’t believe I was calling them soldiers as if there was a war going on and being treated like a child in front of someone I barely knew.

Everything was muddled as hell.

“We’re fine,” Beckham said. “Just a little disagreement. Make sure Camden doesn’t need anything and head back upstairs. I can handle everything here by. My. Self.”

The way he exaggerated the last words annoyed the hell out of me and I tossed my head toward him in an effort to glare into his eyes. Sadly, I wasn’t a contortionist. The move did nothing more than once again slide my wet and aching pussy across the thick bulge between his legs.

“I can see that,” Jeff said. “I’ll ensure no one bothers you, boss man. Enjoy.”

Enjoy? Was the bastard kidding me?

I continued fighting until I was simply exhausted. Hanging my head, I told myself giving in might end the situation much quicker. The pain had almost entirely morphed into something I almost enjoyed, which would forever leave a bad taste in my mouth.

“Please just stop,” I finally said. Or rather I begged.

“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet. Ten more.”

Ten felt like it could be a hundred but I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t egg him on, the bastard likely eager to dole out more. I did what I could to shut down instead, even fighting my ragged breathing.

After ten he did stop, tossing the spoon onto the kitchen table, but he didn’t let me up right away. He moved his leg and brushed the tips of his fingers under my nightshirt first before slowly rubbing them down the length of my spine. I heard his breathing change and the way his cock was currently throbbing was entirely different.

I couldn’t put my finger on the reason, but I had to admit the pulsing into my stomach, the intensity of the electric vibrations was leaving me with additional bad girl thoughts and desires.

He started caressing my skin, rolling the rough pads around in circles several times before sliding them down the crack of my ass to my pussy. As soon as he dared to dip a single finger between my slickened folds, I stiffened and sucked in my breath. What he was doing was so very wrong.

But God help me if one side of me didn’t want him to continue while the other wanted to knock his block off. What I didn’t need in my life were any additional complications. I’d fought for my independence and to get away from the third tyrannical man in my life. I refused to allow this controlling bastard to set me back by years.