Page 65 of The Tangle of Awful

I’m a lawyer and have a good sense of when someone is evading some hidden truth they don’t want discovered. Testing her, I squeeze her ass again, gentler this time. She winces, shooting me a panicked look.

“What happened?” I demand. “Did you fall? Did someone hurt you?”

“Hugo,” she mewls. “Please don’t be mad.”

Rage ignites deep in my gut, churning with jealousy. I know what’s happened and she doesn’t even need to tell me. He did this. My son.

What the fuck?

Homewrecker.

Tony’s choice of word slams into me. I’m unable to keep my anger in check. I glower down at her and demand, “What happened?”

Her throat bobs as she swallows. “He spanked me.”

“He did what?” I growl, voice rising several octaves.

“I asked him to,” she breathes. “I’m fucked-up. I’m so sorry.”

Sorry?

She’s sorry for asking my son to whip her ass?

I should be angry with Spencer, but he’s an eighteen-year-old kid. If a beautiful girl—even if she is his sister—begs to be punished, he’d have to be a saint to deny her. Especially after how vulnerable she was yesterday.

“You think because some asshole calls you a slut that you have to be punished?” I ask, scowling at her. “That it’s your fault you’re being harassed?”

“I deserved it,” she whispers, eyes filling with tears.

One tear races down her cheek. I can’t help but run my nose along the wetness and then press a kiss there.

“You’re a good girl,” I murmur against her flesh. “You deserve to be praised and adored.”

“I don’t, though,” she argues. “I needed his belt.”

I pull away and give my head a violent shake. She yelps when I grab onto her wrist, jerking her toward my desk. Her eyes flare with heat, anticipation dancing in them.

“Are you going to spank me too?”

I smirk as I slide my palms down the sides of her thighs until I reach the hem. Then, I drag the material back up her thighs, loving the hitch of her breath. I tug it up over her ass and bunch it up at her waist. Stepping back, I take a second to appreciate the angel before me.

She doesn’t deserve to be punished.

She deserves to be worshipped.

I lift her by her waist and gently sit her on the edge of my desk, taking care not to hurt her sore ass.

“Lie back, Love. Let me show you how good I think you are.”

Her teeth bite into her bottom lip as she obeys me. She bores her gaze into me, tense with anticipation of what happens next.

What happens next is I pray to this gorgeous goddess.

I worship at her feet.

She gasps when I kneel down. The thin, lacy piece of fabric barely constitutes for underwear because it’s see-through. A pink slit peeks at me beyond the lace, shaved smooth and begging to be tasted.

“I don’t like these. They’re in my way.” I take great pleasure in the ripping sound the cheap lace makes. Her own sound of shock only heightens the pleasure of this moment. Once I’ve divested her of the offending material and shoved it into my pocket, I grin at her. “There. Better.”

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