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Pushing into his space, I spat out, “Hell fucking no.”
I swore he almost laughed, but at the last instant, he wiped the amusement clear from his face.
I flipped my hair and crossed my arms over my chest. “Now, what are you going to do about that?” I taunted.
Quick as lightning, he shot his hand out, grasped my hair, and dragged me to the floor until he had me exactly where he wanted me. I squirmed, not stupid enough to jerk my head considering the tight grip he had on my hair. Fuck, that was good. Exactly what I wanted.
“This is what it means to be mine,” he instructed coolly. “And you’re going to find yourself in this position and many, many naughtier ones until you learn to behave as a queen should.”
“A queen should bow to no one,” I snarled, eyes prickling with the threat of tears. Where was this coming from?
“Ahh, I see the issue. You think bowing to me is weak. You doubt this is a position of strength. Don’t let the outside world dictate the dynamics of our relationship,” he warned. “Our road to happiness is not paved with the intentions and judgments of others. You like to play the brat, and I like to let you play, but I’m dead serious right now. Giving me control doesn’t make you weak, in this or any other position.”
He paused. “And believe me, sweet girl, your body and mind are mine. I own every single part of you.”
I trembled under his hand. I wanted to believe him, to believe that he was my rock, the harbor I could turn to regardless of what happened elsewhere in my life. If I was out of sorts over a stupid accounting program, how would I manage the future trials and tribulations that would come at me once my father gave me his position? I wanted Tatum to be the solid-gold core that kept me stable and balanced, but I was scared. My mother was the only example I had and look how epically she’d failed my father.
“A queen bows to no one,” I reiterated stubbornly, my voice shaking.
“This queen does,” he replied, as if that somehow explained everything. “Your power gets rejuvenated at my feet. They will take and take from you until you have nothing left to give, suck you dry until you’re an empty core. I’ve seen it happen to Alex. And just as he goes to Nina to restore him, you need to be on your knees in front of me for it to happen. I don’t make the rules, Clara, I just implement them.”
I pulled back a little to test him. His grip stayed strong, which was answer enough. He wasn’t going to budge. Our battle of wills dragged on for some time, me glaring at him, him staring back at me passively. Passive, my ass. There was nothing passive about this man. I wiggled and shuffled this way and that, but he corrected me until I ended up back in the exact spot where he wanted me.
Finally, I rolled my eyes, let out a frustrated sigh, and mumbled, “Fine.”
“Good girl,” he crooned, and the sound of his deep voice, hushed and tinged in softness, melted my core. My core might be gooey chocolate, but my pussy clenched in anticipation. She knew what she was doing, treacherous whore. To me, this had been a battle. To her, it’d been foreplay. Unfortunately, I was near out of energy to fight him. There was a natural eroticism in being caged between the thick, solid muscles of his thighs, gazing up his long torso to his sleek jet-black eyes. At this point, I simply wanted to roll onto my back and beg him to fuck me.
I licked my lips, biting down on the bottom one in eagerness for what he’d do next. The expectation on my face must have convinced him that I was done fighting. I was. For now.
Releasing my hair, he leaned back.
“It’s time for your correction,” he intoned.
“Oh, and what is that?” I asked with a coquettish bat of my lashes.
“A spanking.”
“A what?” I gasped out.
“Yes.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head with rejuvenated energy. Heat dipped in fear bloomed over me. I wanted to be coveted, treasured, not punished. I wanted to be a spoiled brat and get away with it. I wanted to stamp my feet, pound his chest, and have my little tantrum.
I crouched in readiness for a sprint, but his hand snapped forward and caught my thick, golden-brown tresses again.
“A spanking,” he echoed.
“I don’t want one,” I whined obstinately.
“You’ve had one before,” he cajoled.
Sure, when we were in bed, he smacked my butt a little.
“Yes, but that was different. This is a punishment.”
“That it is,” he agreed, as he drew me up to my feet and pressed on my lower back until I tipped over his thighs. My vision spun as I followed his lead, and then I was draped across his hard legs, on my belly. How I ended up there, I barely understood. It was as if he’d cast a spell over me.
His tone tightened, “This will be much different.”
