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“Wet already,” he muttered. “Spread your legs and keep them there.”
Quickly following the brusque order, she caught her breath as he tickled her inner thighs, then whimpered as leather cuffs were swiftly buckled in place around her ankles and secured to the footboard.
“Now I have your attention,” he began sternly, sending a quiver of anticipation through her body, “I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen. Clear?”
“Yes, Captain,” she managed breathlessly.
“You want to nail the bad guys, I get that, but you’re being ruled by your emotions, and that’s dangerous.”
Two hard slaps suddenly landed on the inside of her thighs. Yelping loudly and instinctively trying to close her legs, she strained against the cuffs.
“You almost got yourself captured, possibly even killed today,” he continued, delivering two more stinging slaps, eliciting a loud squeal. “If Emily hadn’t found you when she did, you wouldn’t be with me right now. Think about that, Elizabeth. You wouldn’t be with me right now,” he slowly repeated. “Let those words sink in.”
She cringed under his sharp rebuke.
There was no defense.
She was guilty as charged.
Following the footprints had been reckless.
Letting out a heavy sigh, she swallowed back her tears.
“Ah, I’m getting through to you,” he remarked, his voice unexpectedly kind. “You must be patient and calculating, like a predator watching its prey, stalking, scrutinizing, planning, watching and waiting for just the right moment to pounce.”
The image of a great cat crouched and ready to attack flashed through her head.
She nodded.
It was how she usually operated.
Cautious, crafty, and always on guard.
“You know that,” he continued, “but when revenge has you in its grip, rational thinking takes a back seat. You need to quiet those angry voices. They’re drowning out your logic, your cunning, and your most valuable asset, your instinct.”
His finger touched her clit.
“You know I’m right, don’t you, Elizabeth.”
“I do.”
“Elizabeth, call me Sir.”
“Yes, Sir, I do.”
“Working undercover you were operating as a free agent, making your own decisions, choosing what to do and when to do it. That’s not how it works here, not with me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, S-Sir,” she stammered, trying to wriggle against his rubbing finger.
“You must learn to take orders—and when I say take orders, I mean without question. I imagine you went head to head with Jim if you didn’t like something. Am I right?”
“Yes, Sir, I did.”
“Those days are over,” he declared, moving his hand from her pussy and landing another hard, stinging slap against her thigh. “Understood?”
“Ow, yes, Sir.”
“You can only be part of this operation if you follow my orders. The first time you don’t, you’re out. No second chances. Am I clear?”
