Page 16 of Double Dare

He steps closer to me, his chest brushing mine as he leans down so our noses are level. “I’m being very fucking nice right now, but if you continue, I won’t. We’ll reenact that little scene in your bedroom, but instead of my Glock between your legs, it will be my knife. Is that what you want?”

I shake my head and swallow.

“Good. Now take my arm, and let’s go enjoy the night.” He offers me his elbow.

Snaking my arm around his, I plaster a fake smile on my face. We slide past the bouncer and line of people waiting. It’s an odd experience because one second, I feel powerful next to him. The way people look but make sure not to stare too long lets me know just how scared they are of him. And then the next second, I’m with all the people we’re passing.

Scared. Unsure. On edge.

Inside, music blares, colored lights flash, and people bump and grind on the dance floor. It’s a pretty basic setup with the bar along the back wall, the dance floor directly in front of it, and sitting areas along either side.

Adrian leads us through the crowd of people easily until we hit the bar. He flags the bartender over, whispers in his ear, then pulls me along as he starts toward the left. Pushing open a lone door, he reveals a narrow staircase and ushers me forward.

I glance over my shoulder once we’re inside, and he closes the door. “Where are we going?”

“VIP. Go.” He taps my ass.

Turning back around, I do as he instructs. Once we make it to the top, I reach for the next door, but he stops me. Stepping in front of me, he enters first. Leather couches line the small room with a marble table in the center with glass tumblers, various liquors, and ice buckets sitting neatly on top.

“Sit,” Adrian demands, walking to one of the couches and motioning to his lap.

I take the spot beside him instead and look at the glass wall in front of us. From this viewpoint, you can see the entire club. The music is a mere hum now too, but you can pick up the beat of whatever song is playing from the bass shaking the walls and the people dancing below us.

Moving one arm behind me, he uses it to grip my waist, breaking my concentration, and drags me to his lap. “That’s not where I said to sit, Danica.”

Already, I can feel the outline of his hard dick under me through his pants. “You always say one thing but want another, so sorry for not listening, and sorry for not being able to read your mind,” I sass.

I don’t need to turn around to know that upsets him—the tensing of his body beneath me tells me enough. “What am I going to do with you and that smart mouth?”

Not a damn thing, I think, but the thought quickly dies. It doesn’t matter that we’re in public. The man he killed the first night I met him tells me that. And on top of it all, we’re in a private room.Alone.

“Just let me enjoy the night like you said.” I shrug, wiggling my ass just enough to cause some friction on his dick and hopefully make him forget my comment.

“Mmm,” he moans softly. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I nod, not trusting my voice to sound level. I’m too desperate for some normalcy. Some common fucking courtesy.

“That’s too bad,” he comments before reaching around and grabbing my legs. With his other hand, he pushes my face into the couch. I’m at his mercy, bent over his knees with his elbow in my back. “You’re going to learn that acting out comes with punishment. Once you get that through your thick skull, things will be easier.”

Slowly, he rolls the fabric of my dress, letting it bunch up around the small of my back. Softly, he glides his fingers over my ass, paying special attention to the creases just below my cheeks. “You’re going to count, and each time you miss a number, we start over.”

I try to push myself up on my elbows to get away, but it’s useless. I’m petite, and he’s a fucking giant. I couldn’t fight his strength if I tried.

“Count,” he repeats.

When he lands the first strike on my right cheek, I can feel where every finger lands. First, it’s like tiny needles being stabbed into me all at once, then it’s white-hot pain. “One,” I croak out.

Another smack but on my left cheek. “Two.”

He grabs the opposite one painfully, squeezing my flesh in his big hand before dropping it and laying another hit. “Three.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip, refusing to let the tears forming in the corner of my eyes fall. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s hurting me.

Another smack comes to the bottom of my entire ass, so hard it jolts my entire body. “Four!” I scream, stretching my arms in front of me to grip the leather of the couch.

He hits me again, one last time, and I can feel myself slipping. “Five!” I grind out, feeling myself ready to break, but another strike doesn’t come, giving me the power to swallow down my emotions.

“Next time, we will do ten. Understand?” he asks, massaging my tender flesh.

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