Page 109 of Arran's Obsession

He spoke next to my ear, and I realised he’d sat down.

“This is for me. You’re going to take it.”

“What are you going to do?” I said with a whimper that was half barely contained need.

“Spank you. Three times for putting yourself in danger and three times for forcing my hand.”

“You’re… You’re going to hit me?”

“It’s a spanking. There’s a difference.”

He pulled me, and I dropped onto his lap with a rush of breath, his jeans soft against my bare skin. Instantly, his hand was on my backside, and I gritted my teeth, wary but frustratingly turned on. He’d never hurt me, I knew that, but getting spanked was something else.

“Start counting.”

“What?”

Arran smacked my ass cheek with the flat of his hand. I jerked forward with a gasp of shock, the pain nothing but the impact commanding every nerve ending.

“I said count.”

“One,” I gritted out.

“You don’t fucking talk to men like that. You don’t go anywhere near that road or any like it ever again.”

“I won’t. I’m not Don’s girl,” I stammered. “I know you heard that over the phone but I’m not. It’s a lie.”

“Mouth closed unless I tell you to open it.” Another smack landed into my flesh, the other side from the first. “Count it.”

His palm soothed the spot. I squirmed.

“Two. Arran, please.”

He spanked me a third time, harder now.

“You’ll listen to me and fucking understand that in circumstances like that, I know better. Got it?”

I whimpered and nodded because he was right. I’d refused to accept that my life was different now and insisted on doing that stupid job. I wasn’t to blame for his or the gang’s actions, but I’d take responsibility for my own.

“Three,” I said, a little more contrite.

“Good girl.” His fingertips brushed over the crotch of my underwear, then slid inside.

I groaned and writhed against him. Then went utterly still when cold metal touched my skin.

His knife blade.

The material split then fell away, fresh air touching my wet core that was bared to his scrutiny. A clatter followed like he’d tossed the weapon, thank God because it would be covered in someone else’s blood, then he was touching me again, driving over my arousal but not dipping inside.

“You’re fucking soaked from this, and you should see how pretty your ass is with my handprints on it. Now count the final three.”

He slapped me again, alternating my cheeks and groaning when I released another unbidden moan. I didn’t want to give up anything more, the fact I was wet from this was embarrassingenough, but I’d lost control. My body craved his beyond measure, and my arousal soaked my thighs.

Arran stroked my backside. “I think you liked this too much, baby. I need another way to punish you.”

He rose, taking me with him until I wobbled to my feet, then he pushed me backwards until my spine hit a padded surface.

The Saint Andrew’s cross.

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