Page 16 of King of Temptation

“I don’t give a fuck about being fair. I care about keeping you out of my family’s business.” I care about keeping you safe.

Keeping that final thought to himself, he set about teaching the brat over his knee a lesson. With one arm wrapped around her waist, he set her ass on fire with his hand, spanking every inch of her bottom until the entire surface was a bright, beautiful pink.

All the while, she kicked and struggled and called him pretty much every name under the sun. By the time he paused, running his hands over her warm skin, she was panting for breath.

“Let’s try this again.” Unable to resist, he cupped one cheek in his hand, giving the flesh a firm squeeze that had her yelping and wriggling over his lap once more. “Why are you getting spanked, menace?”

His question was met with silence, and he was just about to start spanking again when she sighed. “Because I didn’t listen when you told me to stop spying on you and your family. But it’s your fault! If you hadn’t told me my books were bullshit⁠—”

“There are a million other ways to do your research and you damn well know it. You’re just being a fucking brat, and it’s going to get you killed.”

His stomach clenched at the thought of her coming to any harm for any reason. But even more so because of something he had, however inadvertently, done. And because just the thought of her getting hurt filled him with bone-deep terror, he refocused on teaching her a lesson she would never forget.

Goldie

* * *

Holy fuck the man could spank.

She’d been with a few men who called themselves Doms and who enjoyed doling out a little pain during sex. But nobody had ever pinned her over their knee and spanked her so hard she couldn’t even think straight.

There were arguments to be made for why she wasn’t actually putting herself in any danger by following him around from time to time. She was sure of it. But she couldn’t focus, not with his heavy hand swatting her bottom over and over again until the pain threatened to overwhelm her.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for, Marigold?”

She wished he’d go back to calling her Goldie. There was something about the way he said her full name that really did make her feel like a naughty little girl, a feeling she was not enjoying in real life as much as she did in books.

Two hard swats landed on the tops of her thighs, the fresh, blinding pain shocking a yelp from her. “I asked you a question, little girl.”

What are you sorry for? Right. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen!”

“And?”

And what? What more could he possibly want from her?

When she didn’t answer right away, he sighed and the next swat that landed knocked the breath clean from her lungs.

Had he been holding back this whole time?

She was so fucked.

“I don’t know what you want!” she wailed, kicking her feet up in a desperate attempt to block his hand.

But that move never worked in her books, and it sure as hell didn’t work in real life. In a move she could appreciate even with her ass on fire, he shifted her forward over his left knee, locking his right leg over both of hers, trapping her in place over his lap.

“What I want,” he growled, not breaking his rhythm in the slightest, “is to know you won’t keep putting yourself in danger for something as ridiculous as a fucking book.”

An old, familiar pain gripped her chest. “My books aren’t ridiculous.”

She’d meant for it to sound angry. Defiant.

Instead, she sounded exactly how she felt—wounded and hurt and small.

To her shock, he didn’t spank her again. Instead, he sighed, and this time when his hand connected with her ass, his touch was gentle. Soothing in a way she didn’t want to enjoy.

“Ah, menace.” His voice was soft, borderline apologetic. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”