Page 25 of The Captain's Bounty
He was the captain of this vessel.Hewas in charge. He made the decisions and he did not yield, ever, to anyone. And that included to the bounty he was determined to bring in.
Only now, zap by shocking zap, bellow by bellow, kick by kick, that singular determination was fast replacing itself with a secondary desire. Before he sent her on her way, he was going to make her behave the way conquered females should, especially to the male who held her pressed beneath his conquering boot.
CHAPTER FIVE
His shoulder was digginginto her belly, and it only got worse with every marching step. She punched him in the back; he retaliated immediately, the flat of his hand bouncing off her ass in a single, stinging smack.
Two could play at that game. Hanging down his back, she in the perfect position to swat him in return. She did, with as much force as her circumstance allowed, but her hand did not bounce off his butt. His was a hard, masculine ass, and it definitely hurt her more than it did him.
“Ow!” She shook her smarting hand, jumping all over again when he swatted her a second time. The first one was a love-pat in comparison, compared to the penetrating pain of the other.
She gritted her teeth, but there was no biting back an involuntary yelp.
He carried her down the corridor, hauling her back into the same prison she’d just escaped from. Dropping her on the bed, he marched back to shut and lock the door.
Rolling onto her back, Lissa scrambled to get as far away from him as the cold metal wall at her back would allow.
Stripping off his wet, bactalplast-smeared uniform shirt, he wadded it up and threw it to the floor.
Stunned, Lissa froze and stared. His shoulders were so broad, his barrel chest bulked with muscle, his waist narrowing into lean hips and, dear god, the bulge that crowned the apex of his thighs, striving to break free of his tan britches to meet her more intimately. She swallowed hard. This was entirely the wrong time for her ovaries to heat up and her pussy to start humming.
He faced her, his muscles flexing. “Pick that up,” he ordered, pointing.
Jaw clenching, hating herself for finding any part of this or him to be so arousing, she followed his finger to the foot of the bed, were the thin piece of metal she’d used to loosen the screws lay abandoned.
She picked it up, not quite certain if this was what he meant. He was either extremely brave or extremely stupid if he thought for one second that she wouldn’t try to stab him with it.
His gaze never left her, and as she turned the broken piece of metal over in her hand, she saw it in his face that he absolutely expected her to stab him.
“Put the grate back,” he ordered.
If she attacked him, she would lose. If she threw it, she would lose. If she did what he told her to do, then she might as well give up entirely. He would never let her have another chance like this.
She’d fucked up. She’d done her best to get away, but her biggest mistake was not succeeding before he got involved.
Scowling, she rolled onto her hip and picked up the fallen grate. She only found two of the four screws in the rumpled bedding, but she guessed that would have to do. Eyeing him, she climbed up onto the bed and grudgingly screwed the grate back into place.
Done, she climbed back down off the bed to face him once more.
Bruwes tipped his head, waited only a heartbeat or two, and then came right at her. She backed up until her knees bumped into the bed. She almost fell, but he kept coming.
Why she didn’t raise her hand or, hell, even raise her half-assed weapon, she had no idea. But she didn’t and he kept coming, all bare chest and rippling muscles and that dark, dangerous intensity in his eyes, until he grabbed her. The next she knew, he was sitting on the bed and she was tossed across his lap.
Not again!
She yelled when the flat of his hand cracking a hard, fast, take no prisoners assault all over her panty-less bottom. The sting was far above and beyond the hurt of before, just like his second swat had been so far beyond the near playfulness of the first. He was giving her a gradient. An escalating lesson in exactly what to expect when she disobeyed. And he didn’t stop, not until she lost her composure to another sharp cry.
Grabbing a fistful of her hair, Bruwes hauled her up off his knee. She fell onto hers, grabbing his strong thigh for balance.
“When I tell you to do something, you do it right.”
“I lost the other screws!” she wailed.
“Find them.”
He let go of her neck and the minute he was off the bed, she was scrambled through the tussled blanket. While he sauntered back to his post by the door, she found the two missing screws and with shaking hands screwed them into the grate.
Before she even jumped down off the bed, he was coming at her again.
