Page 92 of Lesson In Faith

There was the brief sensation of falling before she bounced onto the mattress with a disgruntledoomph.She kicked instinctively as he dragged her over the sheets, wrestling her out of the hindering robe, then found her leg trapped against his hip.

“When offered the chance to submit, you should probably take it.” Merrick flipped her over onto her stomach, then hooked an arm around her waist and picked her up.

The room spun as he turned and sat, dumping her over his thighs and laying a forearm over her shoulders to pin her down. When she squirmed and kicked again, he huffed and changed position, twisting to sit at an angle so her upper body sprawled on the bed and her stomach pressed uncomfortably over his left thigh. His right leg curled around hers, preventing any unwanted movement.

“Just as a friendly warning,” he said conversationally, “I normally correct bad attitudes with an unlimited spanking. I can beat on an upturned ass all day until the temper turns to tears, little owl. I suggest you remember that in the future.”

She gave him a poor mimicry of his growl in reply.

Her butt twitched when he laid his palm on her, rubbing in slow circles over one cheek, then the other. The scrape of his calluses on that vulnerable area brought her skin to life.

“Because it’s your first infraction, you’re gonna take ten. It’s a punishment, so there’ll be no warm up. After each one, you’ll tell me you’re sorry for being rude.” The disapproval in his tone made her want to cry. “When we’re done, all will be forgiven.”

“Can I just say sorry now?” Her voice was so small, barely a whisper.

“You could. But the next time you walk out on me in a temper, what lesson will you remember? You’re entitled to your emotions, Tamsyn, but in a dynamic, there still needs to be respect. From youandme. Communication and honesty is essential.” The circling on her butt grew firmer, almost massaging her flesh. “If you don’t feel well, tell me. When you’re upset or off-balance, tell me. I can’t help unless you give me a place to start. And for fuck’s sake, don’t run unless you’re ready for the consequences.”

That, apparently, was the end of his lecture.

Tamsyn bit her lip when he stopped fondling her butt and lifted his hand. Unsure what to expect, it wasn’t until she felt the waft of air over her skin, then the hard clap of his palm on her cheek followed by a stinging rush of fire, that she realized what a monumental mistake she’d made.

She yelped like a wounded dog. “I’m sorry for being rude!”

“Perfect. Nine more.”

Oh hell, her butt was going to hate her before he was done. The next smack landed on the opposite side, just as hard, and her cry was shockingly raw before she repeated the apology.

Fire unleashed over her bottom again and again, barely having time to sink into her muscles before the next strike inflamed the burn. Never in exactly the same place twice, but he had no issues overlapping spanks.

By the sixth blow, she was choking on her words, trying not to cry.

By the eighth, there was no holding back the tears.

By the tenth… she was sobbing.

Merrick’s hand cupped her sex, his finger sliding up and down her slit with ease. “That’s my good girl. Let all that shit out. Hate to tell you this, little owl, but as much as you think you hate spankings, your body has its own opinion. This perfect pussy is wet and wanting.”

Hatewas such a lackluster word to describe her animosity toward spanking. Her butt was slowly roasting under the imprints of his hand, and she was ready to swear her allegiance to being a good girl for the rest of her life if it meant never being in this position again.

It was the weirdest feeling to be in pain and yet still crave Merrick inside her. If anything, the desire was stronger, the ache in her belly deeper. Even when he kneaded her butt, really pushing that burn into her muscles, she wanted his cock buried inside her, mirroring that beautiful pain.

What the hell was wrong with her?

The tears were still streaming down her face, soaking into the rumpled covers. “Merk.”

She’d been beaten before—mainly by her father, sometimes by the other elders if they deemed her behavior unbecoming for whatever reason—but this… it was unlike anything she’d suffered through in the community.

Merrick’s strikes were firm, unyielding, and yet there was no malice behind them. The act itself should’ve been violent, but even though his hand connected with her body repeatedly and caused her pain, she didn’t feel the trembling fear that came with not knowing if she’d survive the castigation.

If she was honest with herself, she knew better than to walk away or flaunt her temper; if Merrick had been an elder, she would have been lucky if he’d only broken her legs or strapped her mouth shut for a month.

His hand retreated from between her legs and he made a soft, sympathetic noise. “No wonder you’re not in the best mood, little owl. Heavy flow today, huh? Sit up when you’re ready and take a seat on my thigh.”

Sit on her butt? The butt that was all glowing embers and flickering flames?

She’d rather take a nap and wake up when the wildfire was out.

“Well, this puts playtime on the back burner for a few days,” he murmured, more to himself than her. When her head snapped up, he chuckled. “Yeah, that got your attention, didn’t it?”

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