Page 41 of Tower

He brought the leather down, over and over again, counting the strokes in his head. Watching them fall onto her round buttocks and create the red lines across her ass made his balls tighten in his slacks.

Azalea lifted her legs again after a hard swat to the sweet upcurve of her ass but quickly dropped them. She still hadn’t said a word, but her grunts were getting more pronounced.

“Do you think you can manage to stay where I ask you to, or will I have to start tying you down?” he asked, the last strike ready to be delivered.

He heard a sniffle, soft and gentle—much like her—before she spoke.

“Yes.” Another small sniffle. “Sir.”

He darted his gaze to her, expecting to see the back of her head, but instead, finding her staring over her shoulder at him, her eyes shimmering from unfallen tears. Could she be teasing him at the end of her punishment?

No. There wasn’t any merriment in that gaze. She wasn’t a manipulator; he doubted she knew the skill at all.

Pulling back, he unleashed the last—and hardest—of the lashes across both ass cheeks. She cried out but didn’t move, just dropped her head, her shoulders shaking without sobs.

Aubree brushed back Azalea’s hair from her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks. The scene so sweet, so arousing, Peter almost wished he could break his rule about playing with the Annex girls.

“Aubree, you’re finished here. Tommy will be sure to get you on the roster tonight at whichever club you choose.”

She nodded and climbed off the couch, giving Azalea one more pat to her shoulder before she made her way from the room.

He stood behind Azalea still, watching her as she pressed her hands to the couch cushions, waiting for his instruction.

“You aren’t finished.” He laid a hand to her ass, enjoying the tremble going through it.

Chapter 13

Azalea watched the last tear drop to the leather beneath her. Her bottom lip hurt from biting down on it while Peter delivered the fiery strapping. It hadn’t been worse than her first, but he definitely made his point. Having another woman there, watching, hadn’t worsened the experience as she first feared when she realized what Peter meant to do. In fact, having Aubree hold her gave her some comfort.

She slid backward, trying to get her feet on the floor, but he cupped her ass, stilling her.

“Not yet,” he said as he gripped her flesh, his fingertips digging into her sore bottom.

“Peter, I’m sorry.” Maybe an apology would move this along. Her backside hurt, and if she squeezed her legs together she could feel her own arousal collecting. She needed to get away from him and take care of the problem. “I’ll leave you alone while you work.”

He released her but didn’t take his touch away from her. The warmth of his skin on her already-hot bottom sank into her, making her clit tingle.

“Remember last night when I said we’d talk about honesty this morning?” He moved his hand in circles around her ass.

“Yeah, I remember. I didn’t lie to you this morning,” she pointed out, trying to look over her shoulder at him, but all her damn hair was in the way.

“You didn’t exactly answer me, though, either. So, we’re going to work on that, now. I’m going to ask you a question and if you answer honestly, you’ll be rewarded. If you lie, even a tiny bit, I’ll reapply the belt.”

The game sounded easy enough, but so far nothing with Peter had been what it seemed.

“I want to know why, exactly, you tried to stop me from punishing Aubree.” His hand stilled, like he was giving her his full undivided attention.

“Do I have to be hanging upside down for this?” she asked, needing another moment to think before answering.

“Deflection is a form of dishonesty,” he said, and she clenched her ass, waiting for the belt to descend on her again. But it didn’t come. Instead, he helped her back over the couch to her feet and brushed her hair away from her face.

“Get out of these jeans and sweater and climb up on the desk. On all fours,” he directed her. The room must have been used for the purpose of discipline; there was nothing on the desk. No file cabinets, no telephone anywhere. Just a large mahogany desk with one chair and the couch with a coffee table in the room.

She didn’t hesitate to obey him, glad he hadn’t taken the opportunity to strap her again.

Once she climbed up, feeling the unforgiving, cool wood press against her bare knees, she tried to see him again. But he was behind her, his fingers trailing down her spine and over her ass.

“You have a few welts, and I think this one will bruise.” He pressed into the sensitive spot. She hissed at the horrible sensation.

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