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The demand was punctuated by another stinging slap, and I bit my lip against a desperate response. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t mean to betray him; I’d only wanted to free Marisol. But I hadn’t thought things through. I hadn’t considered that Sebastián might be in just as much trouble as I was. He’d vouched for me when my brother had tried to orchestrate the coup, and Stefano had subtly warned him that he would be accountable for my actions. I wasn’t the only one whose life was in danger.
“Sebastián, I—”
“Not. Another. Word.” He emphasized the command with three punishing blows to the sensitive backs of my thighs, drawing a howl from my chest.
He picked up a steady, swift rhythm, painting my skin with stinging pain. I wriggled on his lap, struggling in vain to escape the sharp smacks of his huge hand. I wasn’t sure how long it went on before the sting morphed into a thudding heat beneath the surface of my skin. It pulsed deeper with each fall of his hand against my bottom, driving the heat into my core. Something inside me fluttered in time with the punishing blows, and a strange ache throbbed at the apex of my thighs. I bucked against him, and a burst of something warm and bright flashed throughout my entire body. It helped mitigate the pain, so I did it again, grinding on his hard thigh.
A ragged, predatory sound rumbled from my captor, and a thick bulge pressed into my hip. Abruptly, the blows stopped, and his thick fingers dipped between my legs to roughly grab my sex through my underwear. He pressed down hard on the aching bud, and stars burst behind my eyes.
“You’re not supposed to enjoy this, nenita,” he warned, but the words were thick with desire.
I gasped. Enjoy it? Of course I wasn’t enjoying it. He was punishing me. He’d spanked me like a child.
His fingertips bit down on the pleasure center between my thighs, and an undeniably blissful shudder rolled through my body.
My stomach flipped and knotted, self-disgust quickly mingling with righteous rage. How dare he treat me this way? How dare he touch me like he had every right?
How could I possibly find pleasure in this twisted punishment?
Shameful tears burned my eyes, and I gritted my teeth against a sob.
The hard bulge against my hip jerked, and I registered the sign of masculine arousal. I wasn’t the only one enjoying this.
I wriggled in his lap, trying to put distance between us. His grip on my much smaller body clamped down, not hard enough to bruise, but strong enough to hold me immobile for whatever he wanted to do to me.
I hated how helpless I was. I hated how aroused I was. Clearly, late nights fantasizing about the handsome older man as my savior had messed with my mind. I hated that he was touching me like this. I hated that my body responded.
I hated him.
“You’re enjoying this,” I flung back at him, seething. I might be a virgin, but I knew what happened when a man wanted a woman. I knew what that hardness against my hip meant.
A rough growl reverberated through my system, and his hand came down hard on my bottom. “You’re going to come with me now. You will not fight. You will not speak until I tell you to.” Three more sharp, aching slaps. “Understood?”
I gasped and blinked away the tears that blurred my vision. I wasn’t sure if they were tears of rage or pain or self-loathing. I hated myself almost as much as I hated him when I whispered a ragged, “Yes, sir.”
He grunted and released me, finally freeing me from his iron hold. I rubbed my wrists and tried to push myself upright. Before I could attempt to regain a shred of my dignity, he tugged my jeans up over my flaming bottom and refastened them. A fresh wave of humiliation seared my cheeks, and I scrambled to my feet, putting space between us.
Even as cold air closed around my body, the heat of his punishment continued to burn my skin. The rough fabric of my jeans scratched the enflamed flesh, a stinging reminder of the twisted act we’d just shared.
And that needy pulse between my thighs persisted, aching in time with my heartbeats.
His onyx eyes pinned me in place, his tanned cheeks darkened with his own warm flush. Utterly humiliated, I dropped my gaze to the floor, wishing I could sink into the cold marble.
“Let’s go.” His voice lacked the harsh bite that’d imbued his words only moments ago, but the directive was still deep and commanding.
He turned and stalked toward the exit. Hating myself—no, hating him—I quietly followed after him, just as meek and obedient as he’d said I would be. I didn’t have a choice. There was nowhere for me to hide from the cartel’s retribution, and I couldn’t withstand another punishment from Sebastián. Not with my pride intact.
