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“Yeah?”

“Are you breathing like that because you’re afraid, or because you’re turned on?” he rasps in a strangled voice as he reaches the last door along the corridor and throws it open.

I see where he’s brought me, and my nostrils quiver on a weak breath. “Can I be a little of both?”

“I prefer a seventy-thirty ratio in favor of being turned on.” He puts his hand on the small of my back and pushes me into the spanking room.

“Why thirty?” I ask.

The door slams behind me, and he keys in the code that locks it. A moment later, he’s standing behind me; a tower of white-hot heat that I imagine can melt my clothes off. “It’s a perfect balance that keeps your blood pumping. I want it pumping long and hard for me.”

I bow my hips backward and rub my ass against his thickening crotch. “Consider it done.”

He circles to stand in front of me. Dark hazel eyes examine me with intense contemplation. “Hmm… just like that?”

I want to say soft words that will show him how much I feel connected to him through our pain. But Mason isn’t in the mood for soft, and the only connection that speaks the loudest is sex.

Nevertheless, I put my hand on his chest and luxuriate in the hard, warm muscles rolling beneath my fingers. “Our agreement was for you to fuck and use me as you please. I know I’ll get what I need from you in return. So why argue the point?”

With his gaze locked on mine, he curls a hand over my hip and drags me into his body. “You remember when I said you could be perfect?”

How could I forget that damning compliment? “I remember.”

“You just graduated to near-perfection.” He licks the corner of my mouth and I purr. “My kitten. Purr for me again.”

I make the sound, and he groans.

“You’re so getting fucked, baby. Take your dress off.”

I slip it over my head and fling it away. As per his instructions, I haven’t bothered with a bra this morning, so I stand in only my black French panties and await my master’s pleasure.

My heart catches when he strides toward the spanking equivalent of a jungle gym. High handlebars mean the spankee will be hanging at least a foot off the floor while being spanked. I like Mason’s hand on my ass when I’m naughty or defiant, but I don’t think I’m ready for that. I breathe a sigh of relief when he walks past it. My relief turns to tension when he slides the familiar three-sided partition from an enclosed wall panel.

A visceral reaction punches through me. “Mason, no.”

He freezes. “Say that again, kitten?” he asks with veiled softness.

“I won’t be put in that thing.”

He turns and faces me across the room. “Because…?”

Resentment fires higher. “Are you kidding me? I watched you pleasure another woman in it. Fine, you were just testing the equipment, but she still got off by your hand. I’m not getting into it. You can use any other gadget in this room. But not that one.”

His head tilts a little. “Come here, Keely.”

I make a growling sound in my throat as anger and jealousy twist inside me. It colors my hurt and defiance, and he sees it. He lets go of the equipment and returns to me.

“I don’t care what the punishment is, Mason. I’m drawing the line.”

His answer is to tug his T-shirt off, fling it across the room and send his shoes and socks to join it. I gape when he continues undressing until he’s gloriously naked.

Then he closes the gap between us, surrounds me with his warm, intoxicating heat, and cups my cheeks. “You keep striding towards perfection, and I just might have to alter our arrangement again.”

Astonishment punches a hole in my chest. “What? You’re not mad?”

“That you’re ready to defy me because just the thought of sharing something Ididn’tgive another woman makes you crazy?” His thumbs slide over my heated skin. “Kitten, I just punched a guy in thefuckingface because he looked at you,” he breathes.

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