Page 77 of Savage Surrender

His palm covers the place he struck. The ache spreads beneath it, bright and delicious, while he rubs once and lifts his hand again.

“I expected worse.”

Weller’s hold around my waist tightens.

The second hits the opposite cheek, harder. My elbows nearly buckle. Before I can recover, the third catches low, right where the sting turns into want.

“Still unimpressed?” Tristan asks me pleasantly.

“Watch quietly, Tristan,” Weller replies before his hand comes down again.

I yelp at the burn, but he makes me stay there and feel it, palm pressing the heat into my skin while his erection remains hard beneath my stomach. I shift instinctively, searching for friction.

He adjusts me on his lap, taking it away.

The fifth strike wipes the smile off my face.

I gasp and make stupid sounds I don’t have control over. My ass is hot now, each separate sting beginning to blur into one deep throb that pulses in time with my clit. Weller circles the sorest place with the heel of his hand, almost soothing, until I relax.

Then he strikes the same spot again.

“Weller.”

“Six. Do you want to stop?”

His palm skims my ass, and the ridiculous ache behind my ribs tangles with the one beneath his hand.

“No.”

“Look at me.”

I turn my head. Weller’s hazel eyes are fixed on my face.

“Tell me where you are.”

“Right here with you.”

He holds my gaze through the seventh. My fingers dig into the rug and my thighs open farther over his lap.

Tristan says, “Look how wet she gets when you make her behave.”

Weller doesn’t look away from my face.

My arms fold beneath me, lowering my forehead almost to the rug. Weller’s hand travels up my spine and closes around the back of my neck, not forcing me down, only keeping me where he put me while his other palm presses into the blazing curve of my ass.

“Three more.”

I make a sound that might be okay.

“Use your words, Bianca.”

“Ready.”

The answer barely clears my mouth.

“You have no idea how much patience I’ve already dedicated to you.”

The next two send me forward with a broken cry. Weller catches me before my shoulders meet the floor, holding me suspended over his lap while fire spreads through both cheeks. Tears gather without falling, pleasure and pain and something far worse pressing together until I can’t tell which one stole my voice.