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My hands shake, and my belly quivers. I…what will he…

“Repeat rule number one, Violet.”

I love the way he says my name.

I swallow, my voice still distant even as the ringing fades. “Always assume a gun is loaded.”

“Maybe this will help burn it into your memory.” There’s the sound of a swish, then a line of fire lights up my ass. I gasp, too shocked to do more than that. I whip my head around to see him standing behind me, his belt folded over in his grip.

Heat fans my core while indignation rises.

I could tell him off. I could tell him to go fuck himself and keep his big hands to himself. But then I’m fucked. Then I’m back to square one, where I’ve been for so long the very thought of going back there makes me feel desperate. No. No, I can’t walk away from him, not now. Not when I’ve come so close to what I need.

I catch his gaze for one heart-stopping moment. I’m the utter focus of his attention. A bomb could go off beside him right now and his attention wouldn’t waver.

His icy voice shatters the silence. “Did I give you permission to turn around?”

I hold his gaze. Is he… into this?

Am I?

I shake my head wordlessly. He makes a twirly motion with his finger and points. “Then turn back around and stay bent over that table.” I didn’t even realize I’d stood up, hunched over as my wrists are still secured.

Shaking, I do what he says.

“Tell me rule number two.”

I cringe, knowing he’s going to punish me now, somehow craving and dreading it at the same time. “Always wear ear protection.”

Again, the whir of leather and another searing strike. I cry out this time, but before I can recover there’s an additional lash of leather.

Rule number two. Two strikes.

I bite my lip. Even though it hurts, I know a man as strong as he is could tear the skin off my back if he whipped me at full strength. He’s moderating his strength, by a lot.

“Earmuffs on.” He’s right up next to me when he slides them over my ears. The ringing stops, but all other sounds are muffled.

His voice sounds as if it’s far, far off in the distance.

He’s still standing behind me. I can feel his eyes burning through me as vividly as his belt.

“Rule number three.”

Oh, God, will that be three strikes?

“Always keep your finger on the outside of the trigger guard, nowhere near the trigger, until you’re ready to shoot.”

Leaning across my body, he slides the gun between my secured wrists. “Show me.”

I make sure my fingers are nowhere near the trigger.

He nods. “Good. Just like that.” He takes the gun away. “Bend over the table.”

“Oh my God! Again?”

“You didn’t really think we were done, did you?”

I ignore the way excitement builds in my belly, because I don’t have any fucking idea why the knowledge that he’s going to continue to punish me thrills me.

I shake my head numbly. I bend over the table again. This time, I squeeze my eyes shut tight.

No warning at all, but his belt lands with rapid precision, each line of fire building on the one before it until my body screams in pain.

One.

Two.

Three.

Then he’s in my space, his body over mine and his pelvis pressed up against my aching, heated ass. I look down at his large hands placed on either side of me and shiver. I feel his prickly stubble along my cheek as his mouth comes to my ear. “Did you learn your lesson, Violet?” His teeth clench on my earlobe, and I hiss in a breath.

Heat races through me. I close my eyes. I’m drowning in him, in his nearness and dominance, his voice and clean, masculine scent. My heart beats along with his as he’s pressed up against my back.

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me something, then.”

“Yes?” I whisper.

“If I slid my fingers into your panties, would I find you wet?”

My mouth falls open. “What?”

“I spanked you.”

That felt like more than a spanking. My voice trembles. “You call that a spanking? A spanking is over your lap with your palm.”

“I can arrange that, too.”

Gah! I think I swallowed my tongue.

“Cain!”

“Violet. Did your punishment turn you on?”

In my trademark nonsensical way, I answer a question with a question. “If that was punishment, would I be in trouble for being turned on?”

“Of course. You’d have to wait until I got you alone later to do anything about that.” I slam my lips together so I don’t do something stupid like beg.

I feel his hands anchored on my hips and he draws me closer to him. His erection presses up against my ass.

I’m not the only one turned on.

He unfastens the cuffs, turns me around to face him, then slides his hand along my jaw, his anger dialed back to a low simmer.


Tags: Jane Henry Master's Protege Suspense