Page 75 of Soul of a Witch

“Where do you think you’re going, witch?” he said. “Your lesson isn’t over.”

He coiled the rope again, forcing me to take a few more stumbling steps toward him. Any attempts to yank my arm back were useless; neither he nor the rope were budging.

“Allowing yourself to be so panicked and distracted before going into battle is not only foolish, it’s lethal,” he said, dragging me even closer. “You are a clever woman with a powerful mind. You’re above such rash decisions.”

His scolding was having an effect I didn’t expect. It was arousing.

Had I hit my head the night he rescued me from the forest? I’d always been the definition of a Goodie Two-shoes, desperate to follow the rules, eager to repent at the slightest suggestion I’d done something wrong. But that stern tone of disapproval in his voice was setting off fireworks in my head.

“Let go,” I said. Bracing my legs, I thought I could resist being pulled any closer. I was wrong.

He wound the rope around his hand yet again. He tweaked up an eyebrow in challenge as I stumbled forward, swearing at him all the while.

“Let yourself go,” he said.

Grasping the rope, eyes narrowed at him in fury, I closed my eyes to concentrate. But it didn’t help; it just filled my mind with visions of Callum’s sardonic smile, fantasies of him scolding me before coming up with some diabolical way to punish me.

Spanking me, perhaps.

My eyes flew open when I was able to imagine such a scenario a bit too vividly.

“Lost in your thoughts?” Callum teased. “You’re far too easy to distract. It gives your enemies more than enough time to take advantage of you.”

This time, he tugged the rope quickly, forcing me all the way until I had to catch myself against his chest. He grasped my face as I struggled against him.

“Mercy?” he asked softly.

“No.” I wasn’t prepared when his claws tightened on my jaw and forced me to stand still.

“Pride has no place in your training.” His voice was sharp, drenched in authority. “If one of my warriors continually allowed pride to stand in the way of their learning, I would ensure they had no pride left to lean on.” His hand tightened, forcing me up onto my tiptoes as I grasped his forearm. “Perhaps I should do the same to you.”

Delicious fear somersaulted in my belly. All those erotic books I’d used for years to fuel my fantasies were throwing me into overdrive now that I had a real-life fantasy unfolding before me. But my nervous, awkward mind was determined to screw me over even more, and the urge to laugh bubbled up in my throat.

My brain had decided to malfunction andlaughterwas the only response I could manage.

Callum’s eyes widened at the sound of my sudden, nervous giggle, then narrowed when I slapped my hand over my mouth in shock.

“Does that idea entertain you? If you’re craving discipline, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

More ropes appeared, slithering over the ground and coiling up my limbs. In a matter of seconds, I was overtaken and suspended in the air. The ropes behaved as if they had a mind of their own, but I knew it was all Callum’s doing. He directed them subtly, with little movements of his fingers or with merely a look. They slid under my clothes in an invasive exploration that made me glare at him venomously.

With my limbs helplessly spread, I could only watch as he slid his nail down my blouse, cutting the buttons loose one at a time.

As a member of the itty-bitty titty committee, I rarely wore a bra unless I really had to. So, when he pushed the fabric apart, he paused for several long moments to appraise me.

“Beautiful…” He murmured the word like a prayer, hands squeezing my breasts before pinching my nipples between his fingers.

The ropes tightened. Pulled backward, I was bound to one of the T-shaped copper columns. My arms were spread, wrists bound to the horizontal beam above. The rope braided itself around my chest, hips, and legs with expert precision, supporting my weight without pinching.

“What a pretty picture you make. A virgin on a cross.” He surveyed me like an art critic, eyes narrowed, claws thoughtfully stroking his face. “Is it prophetic? Or perhaps symbolic? Will you cry for God?”

“Never. And I’m not a virgin anymore. You made sure of that.”

“You’re close enough.” His fingers traced the contours of my body; taking his time, exploring me, pausing when he noticed a physical reaction from me. “You still blush like one. Just look at those lovely, pink cheeks.”

He brought his mouth dangerously close to mine. I thought he would kiss me. He didn’t. Instead, he hovered there, a grin on his face as he pressed his thigh between my legs, forcing them apart. The ropes tightened again, squeezing against my clitoris until I saw stars. Tensing my muscles, I attempted to lift myself, to somehow ease the tension of the rope, but it didn’t work.

“Are you whining at me?” He slipped two fingers beneath the rope and tugged it repeatedly, making a horrendously embarrassing cry burst out of me. “I’m sorry, but if you don’t learn now, I’m afraid you won’t be nearly so lucky next time. So, what have we learned, Everly?”

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