Page 52 of His Dark Hunger

It sounded ridiculous when he put it that way, and her reddening face suggested she might agree with the conclusion.

“Honestly, I’m fine.” She was starting to wish she hadn’t said anything at all. “I’m very happy to keep calling you, sir.”

“Don’t do that.” His tone was clipped as he stared her down.

“What?” She sensed the heat crawling over her face at his admonishing tone.

“Don’t belittle your needs, Amy. I don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on the request to call me William, but if you want to talk to me—about anything—then I want you to do so.” His lips curled. “I hope you know that, but if it wasn’t clear, then I hope it is now.”

“It’s clear.” Her heart hammered at his directness. “Thank you for clarifying, sir.”

“This is new for us both.” He clasped her fingers. “But we love each other, and now that Jonah’s leaving, you can truly be mine again.”

We love each other.

The old, familiar butterflies spread their wings and flew around her stomach at his affectionate candor. Only a few months before, the idea of a man like Kyle proclaiming his love for her would have been preposterous, yet she’d come to revel in the succor of the sentiment. Her emotions twisted as she considered what Jonah’s departure would mean. She’d miss her son, but there was no doubt the idea of being at Kyle’s beck and call the way she used to be was sexy as hell.

“Your cheeseboard, sir.” The server appeared, hovering the wooden block of cheeses, crackers, and fruit between them and forcing their hands apart.

“It looks delicious.” Kyle took the words right out of her mouth. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy.” The young guy forced a smile. “I’ll bring your wine soon.”

Kyle selected a red grape from the bunch as the server left. “Eat up, little girl. You’ll need your energy when we get home.”

“Oh?” She squirmed on her chair, wondering where the conversation was going but secretly hoping she already knew the answer. “Why’s that, sir?”

“Well, it seems I’ve been bereft in my duties to you recently.” The twitch of his lips conveyed what was truly on his mind. “You need to learn to be honest with me, and I need to create that ambiance of openness, so when we’re back at Brock Hall, you have a date over my lap, Amy.”

“Yes, sir.” Gulping back her excited anxiety, she met his alluring eyes. “I can’t wait.”

Chapter Twenty

Reiteration

Amy

“Why are you being punished, Amy?”

Kyle’s voice was smooth, like a shot of hard liquor when it was needed, and quite in contrast to the ferocity of the spanks he landed. She flinched as the latest strike resonated over her exposed and upturned ass, releasing the breath she’d been holding.

“I wasn’t honest about how I felt, sir.” Hot tears pricked her eyes as she confessed her wrongdoing.

In truth, she couldn’t really see the deed of not asking to use his name warranted such a response, but already flung over his knee, she didn’t argue. She could have countered him in the restaurant when he’d first threatened the punishment or on the way home in the taxi, but she knew why she hadn’t.

Because I want him to spank me.

Her lips parted as he delivered the next swat. Playing Kyle’s submissive was such a paradox. She’d been raised to be independent, despite the knocks that life had brought to her door, and it had felt all shades of wrong to relinquish control to any man—let alone one she hadn’t known. Writhing over him, though, she ceded, not only to his palm but to the knowledge the surrender allowed her to blossom as a woman. She was more comfortable in her own skin than she’d everbeen before in her life, and she certainly didn’t believe that was a coincidence.

Kyle was that difference. His self-assured authority had allowed her to grow.

“That’s right.” Peppering a fast succession of blows over her backside, he went on. “And that’s unacceptable, Amy. For our love to flourish it needs complete and open honesty from both sides.”

“Yes, sir.” Her toes curled as she tried to accept the intensity of the spanking, but Christ, it was harder than any she could remember. Clearly, Kyle was trying to make a point he intended for her to remember. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” His palm halted suddenly, resting over her heated skin. “I don’t want apologies, little girl. I want your word that from this moment, things change.”

“Yes, sir.”

---