Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
And now I feel a different energy from him. Something deeper, darker, something that makes me try to pretend it’s not there even while the core of me starts to melt for him.
I’m still not backing down. We’ve worked really hard on this building, and when we got here, it had obviously not been touched in years. We spent months and months renovating it ourselves using tutorials from the internet. Some of us even learned how to weld, for gods’ sakes. And now this rich fucking older man walks in and tells me the place belongs to him? Not going to happen. Not ever.
He looks at me with that stoic expression that I find unreadable.
“No,” he says. “You know what you need, little whelp? You need to be spanked. Long. And hard. You need to be taught how to behave…”
“You lay a finger on me, and you’ll lose a part of your anatomy you’re attached to,” I tell him. “You think you’re the first big guy I’ve dropped? You’re not.”
He takes several swift steps toward me, but before he can grab me, I pull the flick knife out of my pocket and press the tip of the blade low on his stomach, right above an appendage I know he likes. I press it forward hard enough to make a cut in the waistcoat. The blade is sharp enough to eviscerate him. I want him to know that.
“You just keep making this worse for yourself,” he chuckles darkly.
“Funny. I was going to say the same thing about you.”
He smiles down at me, and now I am so close that I don’t have any choice but to look up at him. His dark hair falls forward around his face, framing his eyes. I am absolutely transfixed by him.
But he’s an asshole. He’s everything I’m trying to fight against. And he’s not doing himself any favors by walking in here like he owns the place—well, I guess he does own the place, but that’s not the point.
He reaches out and cups my chin, resting the pad of his thumb on my lower lip in a gesture that feels more intimate than if he’d outright kissed me.
When he speaks, his voice is calm, measured, and deep. There’s even warmth in it. A hint of affection that finds its way in between the very few cracks in my armor. I might only be twenty-three, but I have constructed what I thought was an impenetrable hide.
“I’m going to give you to the count of five to put down that weapon, or I’m going to take my belt off and whip your bare ass so hard you remember what respect is, little whelp.”
I feel a hot flush suffuse my face in an instant. Obviously I am not going to put down the knife. It’s my only leverage. But the way he just spoke to me is doing things to me. It almost feels like foreplay. We are in a brightly lit room, open plan, with a glass door behind him. There is no real privacy here, though I’d bet nobody from my little pack can see that I have a knife pulled on him from behind. They’ll be able to see it on the cameras though.
“Five… Four… It doesn’t have to be like this,” he murmurs. “It’s going to hurt terribly if you let me get to the end of the countdown.”
I stare in his eyes and don’t fucking move.
“Three… two… last chance, little one…”
He pauses for what feels like a small eternity.
And then he moves. Faster than I would have thought a man his size was capable of moving. He grips my wrist and turns his body at the same time, so even if I did jab the knife forward it would go past him rather than through him.
He spins me around and deposits me face down on my desk in the least cluttered part. Prototypes tumble onto the floor around my legs as he yanks at my jeans and the same elasticated waist that makes them so comfortable betrays me by making it easy for him to bare my ass in one go.
I am cursing and kicking. I make contact with his legs more than once. I wish I’d worn heavy boots today. The rubber in these sneakers just serves to soften the blows.
“I warned you,” he says, still sounding so fucking calm. “You had every opportunity to avoid this. Think about that when you feel the belt.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” I shout back at him.
I hear the sound of his belt whipping out of his pants. He must have gotten it off one-handed, because the other is entirely taken up with the task of keeping me pinned down.
“No, my dear, you won’t. What you will do is take your spanking, and learn something from it.”