Page 9 of The Killer's Payment

“Stop fighting,” he grits through clenched teeth.

Nope.

My struggles only intensify.

I’m not sure if this actually helps, or just gives him the space he needs to inch my nightgown higher. I use his distraction against him and pull one wrist free, grabbing hold of his stubbled jaw.

He lets out a sigh and then fixes his eyes on me.

I stop moving.

Before, he was cold and dead. But now there is something burning behind those eyes. Rage? Frustration? I don’t know.

“Sutton.” He says my name like an order. I drop my hand.

We have a moment that seems to stretch out the distance between stars, where we do nothing but stare at each other, both of us wondering if I’m going to listen to him.

No.

I take a breath, readying myself to strike again, but he quickly lifts his knees and I roll into his chest. He keeps the roll going, flipping me around until I’m staring at the upholstery with my ass in the air over his knees.

He’s not going to—

Crack!

I barely register the sting before my hands are jerking behind me, trying to cover myself before he can land another one.

When he holds both of my hands in one of his and presses them into my lower back, I realize I’ve just fallen right into his trap.

“Ignoring me is always going to lead to this exact situation. One way or another.”

My cheeks are on fire, and blood rushes to my ears. How is this happening? Shit like this doesn’t happen to me.

“Okay, okay.” I try to reason with him. This is too much. It’s not even the pain I’m concerned about—though itdidsting—it’s the humiliation. “I’ll stop. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” There’s a single second of silence before another harsh smack comes down on my ass. “But I don’t believe a word you say.” Another one—this one burning worse. “I think you’re hiding something.” Again. Crack. “And I want to know what it is.” Another. He expects an answer, but I can’t think straight, can’t think through the unexpected jolts of pleasure intermixed with the pain. “Did Daddy send you over here to seduce me?”

It’s too much. Not the pain. If the blows just hurtphysically, I could bear that.

It’s the shame. The shame of my body betraying me. The shame of realizing I’m not even sure Iwanthim to stop.

What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t be enjoying this—not even a little bit.

And what’s even worse is that he just accused me of being a honeypot. Accused me of being sent here to seduce him whenhefreaking kidnapped me.

I try to free myself from his grip, but it’s impossible.

He’s too strong.

“Still fighting me?” He lets out an amused chuckle. “We’ll fix that.”

He brings the palm of his hand down across my ass again and again.

My whole body clenches. If his hand moves any lower, he’ll discover my secret. Discover that despite the pain, this is turning me on.

“Enough,” I beg him. I wish I could make it sound like an order, but it sounds pathetic. It’s almost impossible to make it sound anything other than pitiful when your ass is on fire, and you’re wet and needy and desperate to have your tormentor inside you.

He pauses mid-swat to let me hear the low, deep chuckle that comes from his throat. “Enough? Already? Little princess… This is only the beginning.”

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