Page 57 of Ruthless Vow

“Stand up,” he orders.

I do.

“Take off the robe.”

I hesitate for an instant. I have nothing on underneath.

“I will not tell you again, Nicole.”

Mesmerized by the sound of his voice, the icy command, I undo the belt and let the robe slide off my shoulders and drop to the floor. Leo takes his time looking at me. His gaze lingers on the marks he left on my neck. He sips his whiskey as I stand in front of him, naked, while he is fully clothed.

Finally, he sets the glass aside.

“Lie down,” he says, guiding me face down across his lap.

My pulse races as he positions me over his knees. I’m uneasy, afraid, and so turned on I can’t help but squirm against him, my heart racing, my nipples aching for his touch, my pussy throbbing.

“Put your palms flat on the floor.”

Breathing fast and shallow, I obey.

“Put your legs together.” His voice is like whiskey and velvet with a hint of steel.

I do as he orders, and that only makes me hotter because it puts pressure on my clit. He rests his hand on the backs of my thighs and I squirm, wishing he would move it higher, touch me, stroke me. I make a gasping moan.

“Press your toes to the floor,” he says. “Ass in the air.”

I obey and he kneads my ass cheeks as I struggle to find the position that will make him happy. All I want to do is make him happy. His palm rests on my ass, heavy, hot. He squeezes one cheek, then the other.

Then he smacks my ass, a sharp crack of sensation accompanied by a sharp crack of sound. I gasp, unsure how to feel. It hurts a little. But it feels…exciting too. Wild. Erotic.

His cock is hard beneath me, straining against his jeans.

He smacks me again and I wriggle under his hand, tipping my pelvis forward as though to escape the next blow.

With a soft sound of displeasure, he presses down on my low back, which makes my ass stick up. He smacks me again and again and I gasp and mewl, confused and off-kilter from the storm of sensations. Pain. Pleasure. My ass stings. My pussy throbs. My breasts ache.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, dipping his hand between my legs, pushing two fingers inside me while his other hand still presses on the small of my back.

I gasp and whimper as much from the way his words make me feel—I desperately want to be a good girl for him—as from the stroke of his fingers and the shadow of pain that has left my skin sensitive and raw.

“You like this,” he says, his voice rough and dark.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He lifts me and carries me to the bed, lying me on my back. I stare up at him as he pulls his shirt over his head, baring his torso and those incredible tattoos. Then he pulls his belt free, his obsidian eyes locked on mine. My gaze flicks to the belt. Back to his face. He lifts one dark brow.

“Another time,” he murmurs.

I shiver.

He peels off his jeans and black boxers, releasing his cock, huge and hard. He lowers himself atop me, his weight heavy, confining, perfect. And then he kisses me, gently, softly, the kiss unexpected and wonderful because gentle and soft are not in his nature.

The kiss entices me, drugs me, makes my whole body feel both lethargic and intensely alive.

I wrap my arms around him and kiss him back.

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