Page 29 of His By Contract

Georgia recognized the precipice she stood upon. One wrong move and she’d fall. But the question that burned through her wasn’t if she’d fall, it was whether she wanted to drag him down with her or let him push her over the edge himself.

She let the paper fall back. Her fingers lingered near his hand, not quite touching. The air between them felt charged, dangerous. Like the moment before lightning struck.

Adrian’s fingers locked around her wrist like a steel trap. The sudden contact shattered the delicate tension she’d woven, replacing it with something darker, heavier.

He yanked her forward, the world tilting as she tumbled across his lap. Blood rushed to her head, hair falling in a curtain around her face. Her body responded before her mind could catch up, heart racing, skin flushing, muscles tensing in anticipation.

The power she’d held moments ago evaporated like morning mist. Gone was her careful game of cat and mouse. She’d played at being the hunter, but now she lay trapped across his thighs, every inch of her aware of his strength, his control.

Her pulse hammered against her ribs as blood roared through her veins. Draped across his lap, she found herself defenseless, every curve on display. The solid press of his thigh against her abdomen kept her pinned, while warmth seeped through her flimsy dress wherever their bodies connected, sending shivers cascading down her spine.

Georgia’s fingers curled against the carpet, fighting the urge to struggle. She’d started this dance, pushed his limits, and now she’d face the consequences. Whatever came next wasn’t hers to decide.

A thick blanket of quiet descended, charged with dark promise. Adrian’s palm settled at her lower back, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of her dress. That single point of contact seared through the silk, leaving her gasping soft and quick.

She remained frozen, every muscle drawn bowstring-tight. Time crawled by, marked only by the whispered rustle of her dress as she squirmed. His hold stayed unwavering as iron. The suspense coiled tighter with each passing heartbeat until she feared she’d splinter into pieces.

The leather of his chair creaked as he adjusted his position, the sound impossibly loud in the stillness of the study. Georgia’s fingers pressed deeper into the carpet, her body trembling despite her attempts to remain still.

Georgia bit her lip as anticipation unfurled within her, sharp and urgent. Every muscle tensed, readying itself for the first strike, but it didn’t come.

The silence of the study enveloped them, broken only by the soft sound of their breathing. His palm began tracing slow circles on her skin, sending shivers racing along her spine. The anticipation was a living thing, coiling tighter with each deliberate caress.

Finally, she felt it—the subtle lift of his hand, the slightest pause, and then?—

The strike landed, a sharp sting that blossomed across her cheeks. Georgia sucked in a breath, chest heaving. But he didn’t continue. Instead, he let his hand rest against her rear, his thumb brushing softly along the curve of her cheek through her dress. The gentle touch was more disarming than any swift punishment could have been.

She felt the slight shift in his breathing, the way his muscles tensed beneath her. Though she couldn’t see his face, she sensed his gaze traveling over her body, taking in every reaction, everysubtle movement. Stillness settled between them, steeped in everything he hadn’t said, but made her feel all the same.

Georgia’s breath quickened further as she realized this wasn’t about discipline. It was something else, something darker and more intimate. Something that made her heart pound with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

Another strike landed, but he lingered for a moment, his touch now familiar, no longer a stranger’s caress. Each strike whispered against her flesh, calibrated perfectly to brand her with heat, marking her as his in ways that transcended the physical. His hand remained after each impact.

The rhythm shifted, Adrian’s grip tightening on her hip. His hand curved around her waist, pulling her closer, the wool of his pants scratching against her thighs as he adjusted his position. The pressure anchored her to the moment, not restraining, but grounding her against the storm of sensations coursing through her body.

His touch burned into her skin, not to calm, but to mark her as his own. Georgia’s skin tingled where his fingers touched, her body responding traitorously to his careful manipulation.

Georgia’s mind warred with itself. She could pull away, salvage what remained of her pride. But her body betrayed her, staying perfectly still, not from fear, but from something deeper she couldn’t name. The air around them grew thick with unspoken tension, charged with an intimacy that transcended mere punishment.

Each strike landed with purpose, carrying messages her skin absorbed before her mind could process them. She drew in a sharp breath she couldn’t release, not from pain, but from theway every movement, every pause between impacts, resonated through her core. The line between control and desire blurred until she couldn’t distinguish where one ended and the other began.

His cologne surrounded her, making her head swim. She felt the slight tremor in his hands, not from uncertainty, but from restraint. Like a predator holding back, savoring the chase more than the capture.

Heat bloomed across her skin, spreading through her body in waves that had nothing to do with the sting of his palm. Her muscles tensed with each impact, anticipating the next touch before it landed. She felt rather than heard the change in his breathing, still controlled, but carrying an edge of something darker.

Something connected them in this moment, unspoken and unintended, but undeniable. Georgia’s heart raced as she recognized the shift. What terrified her wasn’t just how deeply he affected her, but the subtle signs that she affected him too: the slight tremor in his touch, the way his fingers pressed harder into her hip with each passing second.

The final strike landed, but Adrian’s palm remained against her stinging skin. Georgia held her breath, caught in the suspended moment between punishment and something else. The study fell silent save for the thundering of her heart.

His touch lingered, a warm weight that anchored her to his lap. The leather chair creaked as he shifted, but he didn’t release her. Instead, his fingers trailed down, following the curve of her thigh with deliberate slowness. Each brush of contact sent sparks racing through her nerves.

Georgia’s breath hitched as his hand moved lower, catching the edge of her silk dress. The fabric whispered across her skin as he drew it upward, exposing her inch by torturous inch to the cool air of the study. Her pulse raced, knowing she should stop him, but her body refused to move.

The silk bunched at her waist, leaving her bottom and thong completely exposed. Vulnerability crashed over her in waves as Adrian’s palm curved over her cheek. His fingers spread wide, possessive and sure, covering her skin that he’d just marked as his own.

Georgia jumped at the sudden warmth of his hand, her breath catching in her throat. The heat of his palm seared through her, making her muscles tense and quiver.

But the initial shock twisted, morphing into something dangerous and electric. Heat bloomed low in her belly, spreading outward until her skin felt too tight. Each point where his fingers pressed against her flesh sparked with sensation she couldn’t—wouldn’t—name.

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