Page 38 of Hooked

His hand tightened on her ass. “Are you being flippant? Not a wise idea with my hand still on your ass.”

“I wasn’t being flippant,” she rushed to explain, even though she was, sort of. “I’ve learned that being honest is so much easier than trying to keep up with lies and concealing secrets. It’s less stressful than worrying when the truth will come out because it always does, especially for me.”

He ran his nails lightly over sensitive skin, making her shiver. The near perpetual desire Joseph inspired, with a softly spoken command in his smooth baritone, a heated glance, or a touch, whether for pleasure or discipline, flooded her pussy with liquid heat. She was more than ready for him to disburse the fire he’d instilled with his hand to the rest of her body by driving into her and taking her fast and hard.

“Is that all?”

“No. It’s a whole lot less embarrassing to be honest, even though it’s hard sometimes, than having your friends spill the beans.”

“I had hoped you would have learned a deeper meaning, one that was less egocentric.”

She frowned. That meant selfish, didn’t it?

Before she could replay her answer and determine what had made him think that, he gripped her hips and helped her up from his lap.

“Kneel on the bench, hands flat on the bed, ass nice and high. I’ll be right back.”

She looked at the padded bench at the foot of the bed, where he pulled her over his thighs and spanked her thoroughly. Kneeling on it would put her at a good height for him to take her from behind like she wanted, but she had a feeling that wasn’t what he had in mind. She turned to see him emerge from the big walk-in closet, a long cardboard box in hand. Her brows knitted together in confusion. When had he brought that home and why, after already being punished was he bringing it out now?

“In position, pet,” he ordered as he dropped the box on the bed and withdrew the riding crop.

“But...you just punished me, master.”

“I did, but those swats were for David. You heard me promise him a few licks, didn’t you?”

Her hands flew back to her fiery backside. Which, of course, he saw. He moved toward her, and once in front of her, removed her hands from her bottom and placed them on his chest.

“Any rubbing that’s done tonight is up to me. Understood?”

“Yes, master,” she whispered.

He tucked the crop under his arm and framed her face with his hands. “Are you beginning to see how much trouble you’re in, pet?”

She nodded and squeaked, “I think so.”

“Let’s be clear. This punishment isn’t because of choices you made in your past, and it has nothing to do with the bastard poser you were involved with or what you had to do to get over his abuse. This is solely for lying by omission and keeping secrets from me and your friend, who has been your protector for years. Dishonesty isn’t something I will tolerate, Olivia, and your backside will endure the brunt of my displeasure until you figure that out.”

“But I do, sir. That’s to say, I have. Figured it out, I mean.”

“Mmm,” he replied, sounding skeptical. Then he removed all doubt by stating, “I’m not so sure.”

He kissed her forehead gently then released her and tapped the bench smartly with the crop.

“In position, naughty girl. Your punishment from me is just beginning.”

On her hands and knees, quivering ass pointed high as she awaited further castigation, she had a moment for introspection. Maybe she had been too single-minded when considering what keeping her past from Joseph meant, or the risks she taken going to clubs on her own where she knew no one. In this case, because she found the dom she’d always wanted, the end justified the means, but neither of the doms in her life, nor Emma, found the means and the risks she taken acceptable.

The leather square on the end of the crop, tapping gently, signaled the start of round two.

“I think a dozen might help clear your head, and perhaps you’ll find a better answer to my question.”

“I’m nervous, sir. I’m not so sure.”

The taps over both cheeks and her upper thighs grew crisper, although they lacked the bite that she knew from experience a crop could deliver.

“You’re an intelligent woman, Olivia,” her master drawled. “If you focus hard, I’m certain it will come to you.”

But it didn’t. Not after receiving twelve stinging strokes—he used the leather keeper instead of the rod, applying it sharply, and with deliberation, never striking the same spot twice—on her cheeks and thighs.

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