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This man didn’t bluff.

And I wasn’t in charge here.

Not anymore.

I gritted my teeth and tried to breathe through it.

I could take this. I had handled worse. I had been dressed down by senators and socialites and smug little men with God complexes and money to burn all my life.

This was nothing, just a little painful and a little humiliating.

Just a man with a strong arm and a grudge.

I could take it. I could take a spanking, right?

He brought his hand down again—quick and ruthless, right across the center of my bare ass—and I bit back the sound trying to claw its way out of my throat.

My legs flinched instinctively. My hands pressed into the marble like I was trying to disappear into it.

But I didn’t beg.

I didn’t cry.

Not yet.

Another spank.

Then another.

I breathed through my nose, fingers curling tighter with every smack. My skin was on fire now, a raw ache blooming deeper and deeper. It wasn’t just the sting—it was the repetition, the relentlessness. He wasn’t just punishing me. He was breaking down my pride. One calculated swat at a time.

“Still proud of yourself?” he asked, voice rough behind me, every word cutting deep into my soul. “Still think it was clever?”

“Yes,” I gasped out.

The second the word left my mouth, I regretted it, because he didn’t reply. He just spanked me again. Faster. Harder. Like he was teaching me a lesson and I had a long way to go until I learned it. The sound cracked through the apartment, loud as a whip, and I choked on my own breath.

Fuck. Ithurt. God, it really hurt now.

This wasn’t sexy or playful or some flirtation I could flip into a win with a smirk and a shrug.

This wasreal, and I didn’t know if I was strong enough to keep my chin up through all of it.

I tried, though. I fucking tried.

I kept my head down, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes stinging from the heat radiating across my ass. My cheeks were flushed, my body was trembling, and my pride was still clinging on by the thinnest thread.

Iwould notgive him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Another strike to the place where my ass met my thighs on the left side. Then two more in the exact same spot. Then he did the same on the right.

I let out a breath that sounded more like a sob than I wanted it to.

His hand rested on the fullest part of my ass, just for a second. Heavy. Hot. Possessive.

“Not so smug now, are we, bad girl,” he purred.

“I’m fine,” I lied, but my voice came out hoarse. Brittle. Paper-thin.