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“You’re not being punished, baby,” he said to her, cupping her cheek and tilting her face back. “When you’re being punished, you’ll know.”
“I will?”
“Hm. I’ve been thinking about that. My preference for punishment would be to put you over my knee and smack that ass of yours until you’re squirming and begging to be released.”
He studied her for any fear, but all he saw was arousal. Her breath quickened, her cheeks grew flushed.
“Does that idea scare you?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Doesn’t have to be that. We can take spanking off the table. You can think on it, decide if it’s something you want. Now, let’s get on the treadmill.”
This wasn’t a punishment, it was damn torture.
Although she wasn’t certain if she was talking about the exercise or watching Liam work out. The man was a god. Gorgeous. Strong. Lethal.
Lickable.
Okay, down girl.
“Right. Good girl. Here, you need to do it like this.” He moved in behind her, his front pressed to her back as he tried to show her some ridiculous thing to do with a dumbbell. She didn’t care about any of that, but having him so close . . .
Yeah, torture.
“Are you paying attention to me?” he suddenly asked.
“What? Yes, of course I am.”
“I don’t think you are, baby girl,” he murmured.
Oh, holy fuck. That turned her on so much. “I think we need to do something to make you more focused. Put the dumbbells down,” he ordered.
She placed them on the floor and started to stand.
“Uh-uh, I didn’t say stand.”
Oh, hell. Her heart started racing. Trepidation mixed with arousal.
“Now, you’re going to pay attention and do exactly what I say, without argument. Understand? If you don’t listen, then you’ll be punished.”
Holy crap.
“Stand up.”
She stood, feeling a little light-headed and he grabbed her shoulders. “All right?”
“Yes. Just a bit light-headed.”
He frowned. “You need to eat more.”
“All the blood rushed from my head.”
“You’re still eating more.”
“I remember the rule.”
“Have you been doing it?” he asked.
