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Since she’d asked so nicely, Anthony plopped her onto the daybed. This time, prepared for her to come up fighting, he turned her as he put her down, so she was facedown on the bed. Grabbing her wrists, he whipped off his cravat and tied her hands behind her while she cursed at him with increasingly creative fervor.

His eyebrows felt as if they were going to rise into his hairline by the time he was done. The mix of street cant and Shakespearian insults was truly something to behold. She was at least somewhat educated.

“Are you finished?” he asked mildly as she took a breath after insulting his parentage.

“Not until you untie and let me go.” She yanked at the fabric around her wrist to emphasize her point.

“I will let you go as soon as you answer my questions. What is your name? Your real name. What are you doing here? And who do you work for?”

There were quite a few other questions he wanted to ask her as well, but those would do for a start. He needed to get his wayward desires under control. Manhandling her into the room and dodging her blows had aroused him in a manner he had not expected—though perhaps he should have since his body seemed consistently confused when around her.

Anthony was certainly not going to take advantage of her current position, but the back of his mind was going wild with fantasies now that he had her bound and at his mercy, even as he forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

“Go to hell!”

Apparently, she was not going to be reasonable.

Pressing his hand down on the small of her back, Anthony dodged her kicking legs as he moved to the side. Flipping up her plain brown skirt, he shook his head at the drawers she was wearing, which were hardly going to save her. The fabric was gossamer thin, but he was not going to allow her even that much protection.

“You have seen what goes on at these events, I presume?” His voice was far milder than he felt, though the sight of her creamy bottom had soothed some of the savagery he’d felt roiling inside. “If you do not answer my questions, I will spank you. I thoroughly enjoy reddening a woman’s bottom, so it will be no hardship.”

He could not stop himself from reaching out to touch her, his hand caressing over the soft skin of her upturned mounds. Fuck, it felt far too good to have his hands on her again.

She’d gone silent and still.

“What is your real name?” He rubbed his hand against her bottom, right where he intended to slap if she did not answer him. “Last chance, vixen.” He was not going to call her Yvette again.

“Bugger off.” There was clear challenge in her voice.

Anthony had to chuckle. Did she want him to spank her? It certainly seemed like it. Lifting his hand, he brought it down hard on her upturned bottom, enjoying her gasp. Rather than giving her the chance to speak again, he brought his hand down thrice more, landing two hard, stinging swats to each cheek before asking her again.

“What is your name?”

“Go to hell!”

* * *

Evie

Tell him another false name.

Yes, that would have been the smart, sensible thing to do.

Instead, every time she opened her mouth, another curse fell out. Then his hand came down, slapping against her flesh while she cried out, wriggling as the stinging burn sank into her skin and heated her bottom. It hurt. Itdidhurt.

It also set her aflame.

Heat and arousal licked through her as much as the pain did, making her press her thighs together, trying to rub against that sensitive spot between her legs as her desire grew. It was utterly shameful and entirely exciting. While she had seen plenty of such things at the Society’s events, she had not truly felt interested in participating…

Until now.

Until it was Captain Browne who had her bound, her bottom bared, and it was his hard hand coming down on her tingling, stinging flesh.

Between her legs, she was hot, wet, and ready, far more so than she had been in all the months since she’d seen him last. No other man had managed to make her feel quite the same way, frustrating though it was to admit. With the evidence gathering in her body, there was no way she could honestly deny it.

All she had to do to make him stop was give him a name. Any name. He could hardly know if it was her real one.

But she did not want him to stop.

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