“Move!” I drag her body toward the stairs, her fighting against me as I pull her through the pool. Water drips from my clothes as I carry her up the steps.
“Wait—”
“Get back in your vehicle!” The chorus of Marines echoes sharply from beyond the perimeter, and fear flashes instantly across her face when she realizes this isn’t a game.
“Damon?”
I don’t answer, hauling her across the courtyard toward the nearest secure room. My wet footprints streak across the marble floors as Marines swarm the grounds behind us, their rifles raised.
My earpiece crackles constantly, “Perimeter breach attempted… Possible distraction maneuver… Lock the east gate.”
Mackenzi clutches my arm hard enough to bruise as panic finally starts flooding through her.
I shove open the nearest door and drag her inside with me before kicking it shut behind us, locking the storage room door a second later. “Mackenzi secure,” I bark into comms.
“Copy.” My pulse hammers violently beneath my ribs—adrenaline, fear, and rage all tangled together into something volatile and dangerous.
Mackenzi turns toward me, breathing hard, water still dripping down her bare skin, while confusion and fear widen her eyes. “Damon, what’s happening?—”
I grab her firmly and pin her roughly against the wall, face first, with my body shielding hers instinctively. She gasps in surprise as she hits the cool drywall. With one hand braced beside her head, my other grips her hip hard enough to keep her still. Outside is chaos, but in this tiny room, all I can feel is the wash of relief, knowing she’s safe beneath my hands.
“Reckless,” I growl against the side of her neck. “Not listening to me is fucking reckless.”
Her breathing shakes slightly. “I?—”
Then she stops abruptly when I hook my fingers beneath the edge of her bikini bottom. I tear back the fabric just enough to expose one soft, bare ass cheek completely.
Mackenzi jolts hard against the wall.
“Damon—”
“Daddy,” I correct, palming the exposed skin firmly, breathing rough and uneven against the damp curve of her neck as adrenaline surges violently through my bloodstream. “You scared the fuck out of me.”
My control is no longer fraying. It has completely snapped.
After kicking her feet apart slightly, I drag my hand possessively over her flushed, exposed skin and whisper roughly against her ear, “I love your fucking fire, trouble, but you need to learn to listen.”
My hand comes down hard across her bare cheek, the crack echoing sharply through the small room as a startled yelp rises from Mackenzi’s lungs.
With my face pressed hard to the cool, unforgiving wall, the shock of the swat steals my breath. My ass burns, a hot, stinging fire spreading across the exposed cheek Damon just struck, a brand of his fury and his fear. Before I can even process the first searing impact, his hand comes down again.
CRACK
The sound is sharp in the small, enclosed space, a stark contrast to the muffled chaos echoing outside. I jolt, a cry catching in my throat, my hands flat against the wall, trying to brace myself. The cool water pooling on the floor around my feet mocks the fire igniting on my skin.
CRACK
Tears spring to my eyes instantly, blurring my vision as the heat ripples across my flesh. It’s a deep, throbbing ache that has as much to do with pain as it does with him. With the sheer intensity of the moment, of his body caging mine, his rage is palpable when he presses against my back.
“This is what happens to naughty brats who don’t listen to their Daddy,” he growls, the low, dangerous rumble against the shell of my ear. The vibrations sink into my bones, a terrifying thrill chasing the pain. His breath is hot and ragged. The Marines and the chaos outside are all a distant, fuzzy nightmare compared to the sharp reality of his hand on my body.
Another strike lands, and this time, a choked sob escapes me. My tears spill over, tracking down my cheeks, but the cry that follows isn’t all pain. It’s something else, something tangled and confusing… The sound of my surrender. My traitorous body reacts to his rough possession in ways I never could have expected. Heat blooms low in my belly, a direct counterpoint to the stinging heat on my ass. My core clenches, a deep, pulling ache that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the man punishing me.
“This is for you, so you learn,” he grits out, his voice strained. He’s not just angry. He’sshaken. I can feel it in the tremor that runs through his hand and the way his chest heaves against my back. He was scared. For me. The realization hits me with the force of his blows, and it changes everything.
His hand comes down again, softer this time, almost a caress, and a breathy, wanton moan that I barely recognize as my own rises from my lungs. It’s a sound of need, of a deep, primal craving for this…for him.
He stills, his palm resting against my heated, stinging flesh. Leaning in, his lips press to the side of my neck, a stark contrast to the roughness of his hand moments before. He rubs over the warm flesh of my backside,his touch possessive, soothing, and arousing all at once, the friction sending new sparks skittering across my skin.
