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A perverse thrill races through me. My nipples harden under his touch, betraying the very idea that a punishment means suffering. The way he handles me, like I’m both precious and worthy of being spoken such dirty things to simultaneously, awakens something dark inside me that I’ve tried to keep buried since that night.

“Please,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m begging for. For him to keep going? To take more? My thoughts are a mess, but my body knows exactly what it wants—and it’s no longer asking.

“Please what?” he murmurs, his thumb grazing over my nipple, making me arch into him with a gasp. “Please forgive you? Let you go?” His mouth curves into a wicked smile. “Or… please don’t stop?”

He stills, waiting.

I bite my lower lip, breath shaking. “I want more,” I whisper. “I need all of you.”

His hand travels down my stomach, fingers splaying across my bare skin like he’s mapping territory. My dress hangs uselessly at my waist, my breasts exposed to his hungry eyes. All I feel is a desperate, clawing need.

“You need to be taught a lesson,” Marco says, his hand continuing its journey downward. “About what happens when you lie to a man like me.”

His fingers reach the hem of my dress where it’s bunched at my waist, then slide beneath it, tracing the lace edge of my panties. I squirm against him, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“Stand still,” he commands, and my body obeys before my mind can process the order. “Good girl. Maybe you can learn after all.”

His fingers dip beneath the lace, finding me embarrassingly wet. The smirk that spreads across his face tells me he’s discovered exactly what he expected to find.

“Soaked,” he whispers, his voice dropping an octave. “You wanted this all along, didn’t you?”

Just being in the same room with him makes my knees tremble and my center pulse. Instead, I arch into him, my back pressing against the wall, my pelvis moving against his.

An utterly delighted smile crosses over his face, and one finger circles my entrance teasingly before pushing inside without warning. I gasp, my hips bucking against his hand involuntarily.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice suddenly gentler though no less commanding. “Show me how much you want this punishment.”

He adds a second finger, stretching me, the slight burn only intensifying the pleasure. His thumb finds my clit, applying just enough pressure to make my knees weak. If he weren’t still pinning my wrists with his other hand, I’d have collapsed.

“Marco,” I breathe, hating how needy I sound, how quickly he’s reduced me to this quivering mess.

“Say it again,” he demands, curling his fingers inside me to hit that spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. “My name.”

“Marco!” This time it’s louder, more desperate. He rewards me by increasing the tempo of his fingers, pumping them in and out with a rhythm that has me climbing rapidly toward release.

“You’re mine now, Aria,” he says, his lips against my ear, his stubble scratching my sensitive skin. “Every inch of you belongs to me. Your debt, your body, everything. And I won’t stop until you admit it.”

His fingers move faster, harder, his thumb circling my clit with precise, merciless strokes. I’m trembling, my thighs quivering, my breathing ragged.

“I can’t—” I start to say, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak.

“Are you done, Aria?”

I shake my head in refusal, my whole body buzzing. I’m not.

One hand still clenches my wrists above my head, holding me still. The other is still between my legs, torturing me slowly.

I gasp, writhing under him.

“Keep right there,” he commands. “Don’t move unless I tell you.”

My wrists struggle for release, desperate for something to hold on to.

“You want to come, don’t you?” he murmurs.

I nod frantically, tears of frustration and arousal pricking at my eyes.

“Too bad.”