Page 55 of Taming Her

“We? Where did me going on a health kick have anything to do with you?” Still she writhed but his arms were a vise. There was no escape.

“Since you gave me permission to make it my business.” He hauled her to the table. Plonked her at the end with her feet facing it, then shoved at her shoulders. “Bend over.”

“No!”

But she didn’t have a choice. He flattened her to the surface and kept one hand squarely between her shoulder blades exerting a strong pressure to keep her there.

“Griff!” She twisted her neck to glare at him.

“Keep still.” He flicked her short dress upward, exposing her knickers. “Or I swear I’ll tie you to this damn table.”

Shit. He was serious, she could tell by the glint in his eyes.

Oh, what had she done? She’d pushed him way too far. Just because he’d been gentle and almost sweet the last few days she never should have forgotten that he was a stern, rule-obsessed dominant.

He dragged at her small cotton panties, pushing them roughly down to her knees.

She wriggled, trying to slide to the right and escape. All that happened was the panties fell to her ankles, pooling there in a tangle.

“Last chance. Keep still or I’ll tie you up.” Using his free hand he released his belt buckle. After sliding the leather from the metal he tugged the length from the loops.

“What… what are you doing?”

“I’m giving your brain something else to associate with drinking.” A tendon jerked in his cheek as he folded the belt in half and gripped the buckle end.

Fuck. He’s going to thrash me with that.

Before Ava could make a last effort to wriggle free, he’d pinned her in place again. A real sense of doom went through her. This was going to hurt… bad. Much worse than his hand.

“I suspect you’re thinking this is going to sting,” he said. “You’d be right. It will.”

“So leave me alone. I’m sorry, okay?”

For a split second his face softened. She saw Griff, not her nemesis, and remembered how amazing he could make her feel when he fucked her, when he was tender with her.

Her pussy quivered, a strange combination of fear and being turned on by him. He was like no other man she’d ever encountered, unrecognizable from the teen she’d strung along years ago. Now he was the one stringing her along. She craved him, his attention, and his affection.

And then his focus shifted from her face to her ass. “Six strikes. You can count them.”

“No, please.”

But it was useless; he drew his hand back, the leather loop menacing as he held it in the air.

She screwed up her eyes, waiting for impact.

It came and she cried out, a sharp howl. Pain blistered over her buttocks in a long thick line of heat.

“One,” he said. “Say it.”

“One…” she managed.

“This is what brattish behavior gets you, Ava. Feel and learn.”

She gripped the side of the table and placed her forehead on the cool surface, waiting for the next strike.

Her heart pounded, the anticipation almost as bad as the lash of the belt. But somehow his hand on her back, keeping her in place, was weirdly comforting.

A second connection of the belt landed. She arched her spine, yelped, “No, no.” She rushed to cover her ass with her hands.

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