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“Um, that you kidnapped me and locked me in a bedroom. What do you think I was thinking? I was leaving.”
He regards this answer for several moments before speaking again. “I made it perfectly fucking clear. You are staying here.”
“I’m sorry, are you out of your fucking mind? Like are you actually touched in the head a bit? Youkidnapped me. Don’t act like I’m the unreasonable one right now.”
“What exactly do you think happens to you outside? Do you think your boss is going to be just overjoyed to have you back? Or do you think he’s going to wonder why I killed every one of his men, but you just walked out?” Sean pushes off the island and stalks toward me.
I step back until my back is pressed to the wall.
He slowly closes the distance, like a predator circling his skittish prey. “You have no idea how big of a mess you’re in, little one. You are staying here.”
I tilt my face up to lock eyes with his chilly glare. “Bite me.”
Something gleams in his eyes. The corner of his mouth lifts in just the tiniest smirk. He makes a tsk-tsk sound.
Uh oh.
“Oh, little one, I thought you’d never ask.”
Lightning fast, Sean spins me around. Grasping both my wrists in one large palm, he starts to walk me down the hall.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I try jerking my wrists away, but his grip doesn’t budge.
“Oh, I think it’s time we do a little attitude adjusting. You seem confused.”
We cross the threshold into his bedroom again. The room is done in shades of cool gray and black tones, with a large bed dominating the side closest to the en-suite bathroom. Opposite it is a small sitting area, complete with a fireplace, a pair of padded high-back chairs, and a sofa. I hear him grab something from the bureau as we pass. It’s not until I feel the cold metal against my wrists that I realize he’s handcuffing me.
“What the hell? Stop!” My thrashing around just elicits a laugh from him.
“Oh, little one, you don’t get a vote.” He walks us to the sofa and sits, pulling me over his lap.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“You seem a little confused. We’re going to correct that misunderstanding. Right now, you’ve got yourself into a very bad situation. The only place you are safe, the only way I can keep you safe, is for you to stay here.” He’s pushed my chest down, keeping his left hand on my back. His right hand sits ominously on my ass.
“What are you doing?” The hand has started massaging back and forth over my sweatpants-covered behind.
“Spanking you.”
“What? The hell you are!” I try to get up, but the hand on my back presses me back down. Between this and the hand on my ass, I’m not going anywhere.
Slowly, he stops rubbing my ass and grabs the waistband of the sweatpants, dragging it down to my thighs. The air is cold against my bare skin.
The slap comes without warning. His large hand connects with my ass and I shriek.
“You motherfucker!”
“Language and fits won’t get you out of punishments.” His hand connects with the other cheek.
“That hurts!” It’s like hot pins and needles spreading across my body.
“It’s supposed to hurt. It’s a punishment.”
His palm connects with my ass three more times in quick succession.
I can feel tears running down my cheeks. “Stop!” I scream. I buck and thrash against him, but his grip doesn’t budge.
Again and again, his hand cracks across my ass. I can feel the heat radiating off my skin. I can see wet tearstains on the sofa in front of me.What is happening to me?I’ve never been spanked in my life, not even when I was little.
