Page 26 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife
"From the entrance to the building?"
"I’ve ordered them wiped already."
"The bar yesterday…" I bite on my lower lip. Of course, he owns it and everyone there, as well. "Fuck you."
Pain explodes across my backside.
I scream. "You spanked me, what the bloody hell—?"
"Language, Bird." He smacks my butt again.
I howl. No one has ever smacked me before.
I haven’t let anyone get this close to me. Certainly, no one in the revolving door of foster homes had cared enough to admonish me. So, how had I put myself in this position with this intolerable asshole?
I strain against his hold and he leans more of his weight on my back. I kick out with my leg as he spanks me again, and again. Five, six… ten. "Stop." I wheeze.
"Learned your lesson yet?"
"Get off me, you brute." I yell, and he slaps my arse so hard that my entire body jerks up the table.
"Sinclair."
"What?" My breath stutters; the pain sinks into my blood, coils in that empty space between my thighs.
"My name, little Bird." He cups my butt, "My name's Sinclair."
Moisture pools in my core. Why the hell is my body reacting this way?
"Say it." His voice lowers to a hush.
I tremble, open my mouth, wanting to oblige him. Do it. Give him what he wants.
"No."
Whack.
"Now." He growls.
My skin stretches; my nerve-endings pop.
"Sinclair." I huff.
His large hand palms my butt. "See, we get along so well when you obey me."
Right.I swallow, firm my shoulders. "This is not about a boyfriend."
He stills, but his body is braced for action. Dense clouds of energy vibrate off of him.
I turn my head so my cheek is flat against the table. "My sister." I peer up at him. "She’s unwell, I can’t leave her."
"Not my problem."
Anger threads my veins, "She’s not well you... nincompoop. I can’t leave her."
"Too bad."
The blood pounds at my temples. Until now, I hadn’t’ realized how protective I feel about her. Me? I can deal with shit. But Karma? No way am I going to let her suffer because of this. I twist my torso. His grip loosens. Enough for me to pull free. I scramble up on the table, raise my hand,
