One Dirty Night - Page 125
I jerked and fell into the wall.
Tears immediately sprang to my eyes as the sharp smack of the wooden spoon across my ass echoed in the living room.
“Ow!” I moaned behind my gag.
“Ten will be your punishment, Ella. Ten strikes for the ten infractions you’ve made against me.”
Infractions?
What the hell did I do?
I’ve been a saint.
A darling.
A—
“Ah!” I groaned, fighting against my restraints as the second one landed. My ass cheek smarted, blazing in a throbbing hot line where the spoon struck.
“The first was for being exactly what Hunter called you. You’re a witch, Ella. A succubus who stole my heart right from my chest and have ruled it ever since.”
Running the edge of the spoon down my crack, he murmured, “The second is for being a dream come true when I didn’t even dare to dream.”
I braced.
I balled my hands.
I still wasn’t prepared for the wallop.
“Ow!” My hips bucked against the wall as he hit me. Short and sharp, a perfectly delivered whack that coated me with heat, misery, and mortification.
“The third is for turning me into this…this beast. This hungry, thirsty beast who longs to drink up all your tears and feast on all your screams.”
I sobbed as he delivered the fourth.
My body boycotted.
My heart hated.
Every instinct told me to shout the safe word and tell him to get the hell away from me. But then the fifth landed and rationality flew out of my swimming, drowning mind.
“Four for making me share you. Five for making me watch another man fuck you.” His voice hitched as if the pain of that truly undid him.
I wanted to see him.
I wanted to let him know I’d never request that ever again.
He was who I wanted.
Only him.
Another lash. Another bruising chastisement.
“Six for finding me jerking off in the shower the morning after the circus. Seven for kneeling at my feet and opening your mouth for me to fuck.”
I groaned as images of him towering over me and driving his hardness over my tongue tangled with my current vulnerability.
That morning, I’d offered myself completely.