Page 47 of Striker

A hand lands on the back of my thigh. I jerk at the sudden warmth against my flesh.

“Pretty Kitten needs to learn a lesson.” Reaper’s words crack at the end, scratchy like they’re clawing his throat. His heat leaves as he sits upright. “Viper, hold her down.”

My heart skips. A choked gasp escapes when his hand slides over my ass cheek, tugging my underwear down some. Another, different, warm hand wipes strands of hair away from my face.

“I fucking went outside and now you’re going to hurt me?” I hate the way the last few words catch in my throat. Hate him for sending this awful fear skittering through my body.

“We’re going to do something far worse than hurt you, Kitten,” Reaper growls. “We’re going toownyou.”

I squirm under him, fear and rage flooding my senses.

“We don’t hurt helpless creatures,” Striker says. “Punish yes. But I promise you we’d never hurt you.”

The irony of my situation makes a guttural laugh escape. “You’re fucking insane!”

“Hush now, Princess,” Striker whispers. “Reaper has a point to make.”

I open my mouth to curse him again, to threaten him with the vengeance of my father, but the sharp sting of flesh meeting flesh rings out over my ass cheek and I scream, more from shock than the actual pain. Stinging heat radiates out, spreading from my right butt cheek to my thigh.

“Fucking asshole!” I scream when I realize what he did. “A fucking spanking?”

Another slap to my other ass cheek makes my entire body jerk, my hips digging into the ground, bucking away from the pain.

“Two,” Reaper growls. “How many until our little Kitten learns to obey?”

Another, another. Two more in rapid succession, each one making me cry out.

“How many more, Sweetheart?” Viper asks, shifting his grip on my wrists so my arms are up even higher and I’m forced to bend, draw my knees up under me, my ass in the air.

“Fuck y—” My scream gets cut off with another sharp slap to my ass.

“How many?” Reaper’s hand lands again. “Ten more?”

Another. Another.

My sob breaks on a growl. My heart hammers. It’s not so much the pain as the humiliation. I’m pinned down, four men standing over me, spanking me because I was trying to find my best friend. To fucking save her from god only knows what.

“I wasn’t running,” I whimper, my ass hurting so badly, I’m squirming, like if I move enough I can outrun the pain.

“You don’t leave here,” Reaper says. “You’re ours.”

I shake my head, my forehead grating into the dirt, a red tide of fury making me wish I was stronger so I could get free. Kick him.

Another slap to my ass rips a cry from my throat.

“You don’t run,” Striker says as another punishing spank lands.

“You belong to us now. You’ll listen to us. Be rewarded by us. Get punished by us. Do you understand?”

“I belong to no one,” I hiss, regretting my defiant words the second another harder spanking stings my sore ass. Something twists, low in my belly like embers spiraling upward, stained with darkness.

When another slap lands, I buck into it, an explosive heat hitting between my thighs.

“Ours,” Reaper says. “You’re ours, Kitten. Do you understand?”

I nod, my throat tight, fear making my heart race. Not of another spanking to my sore flesh, but of that dark feeling curling through me.

“Say it, Kitten.”

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