Page 24 of The Duke's Pet

“You didn’t intend to wreck my work. Important botanical research.”

“No, I really didn’t.”

His eyes had lost the softness of earlier, and his lips were thin. “I believe I have been quite clear in my instructions.” He gripped her wrist. “And you have disobeyed me.”

“Sir.”

He tugged her to the sofa.

She tried to resist but it was no good, his grip was firm. Fear darted though her chest, tightening her throat and snatching her breath.

Once there he sat on the edge, knees bent, jaw tense. He still held her wrist and his brow was creased. “And now you must be punished, little kitten.”

“Please, I... I’m sorry.”

What the hell is he going to do?

He looked so big and strong, determined and domineering. Stood beside him—small and skinny—she was vulnerable and at his mercy, emotions that scared her but at the same time wrapped around her in a new, unsettling way.

“Sorry will not right your wrong,” he snapped.

“But... it was an accident.”

“An accident that would not have happened had you been obedient.”

Suddenly her world turned upside down. He’d tipped her over his lap and pulled her close to his hard body. His thighs were thickly muscled and warm through his pants and his hold on her like a lock of steel.

“Hey, get off me!” She scrabbled for something to hold onto, found the floor, and yelped as a hard swat landed on her backside. The sensation was shocking and stung like a swarm of bees.

“I will not have my work interfered with.”

Another smack, then another and another.

She kicked and squirmed, trying to break free. It was mortifying to be spanked like a child would be... except no, this was much harder than anyone would strike a child, this had real male muscle behind it.

He held her tighter, drawing her against his torso. “Keep still.” His voice was a low growl. He sounded almost feral, animal-like, and the tone sent a shiver through her.

I am his. That is how it is here.

He’d bought her, he could do as he pleased whether that pained her, scared her, or demeaned her—or all three.

He didn’t let up, the loud thwacks of his palm connecting with her petticoat snapping around the room and up to the high ceiling.

“Oh... it hurts,” she cried when she felt she could take no more.

“It’s supposed to.” His voice still held that raw, masculine tone.

She clenched her fists as the spanking continued. At least her ass had some protection from her petticoat.

“This is in the goddamn way.” He gripped the waistband of her last piece of clothing and yanked it down, completely exposing her buttocks.

Her poor bottom was utterly at his mercy.

“Oh, please.” She tried to grab the petticoat and pull it up.

But it was no good. He was too big, strong, and determined and swatted her attempts away. “Stop that nonsense.”

For a moment he was still and she imagined him staring at the globes of her behind, no doubt red from his ministrations.

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