Page 46 of Beautiful Secrets

I’m so screwed.

I whip my head around, mutely begging for forgiveness, but Cole is too fixated on my ass to notice. He bites his lower lip when he makes contact with my flesh again, sending a ripple of pain through me.

But not just pain.

My core clenches and wetness oozes out of me as conflicting sensations war inside my body. When he slaps me again, that bright sting causes me to moan and writhe.

“Now will you lie to me again?” Cole asks conversationally before planting another slap on my scalded ass.

“No!”

He slaps me again. “No,Sir.”

My body goes limp and a hot, tingling pleasure settles between my legs.

He slaps me again.

“Sir,” I sigh.

And then he stops.

So I wriggle a little, hoping he’ll give me just one more.

But he doesn’t.

So I lift my ass about an inch from the bed before dropping it.

It happens so fast, I barely realize what I have done until Cole lets out a soft, beastly growl deep in his throat. My body goes rigid with mortification. Hot tears prick at my eyelids, and the sudden urge to start sobbing nearly overcomes me.

What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. Me?

The hand that was pushing me into the bed eases up. He slides both hands over my ass, warming my already hot skin. Trickles of delicious pain pour through me. My core clenches again, and I moan before I can stop myself.

“It’s not punishment if you enjoy it,” Cole grates.

I laugh at him.

So I get another slap.

I gasp, my ass lifting an inch from the mattress, begging him for more.

“Sweet Jesus,” he mutters before he pushes me down. I wriggle a little until his other hand lands on the back of my thigh. My boxers are still clinging to my legs—from the feel of cool air circulating over my hot flesh, it’s only my ass cheeks and some of my lower back that is exposed.

Every muscle on my body tightens when Cole’s flattened hand slides between my thighs.

He moves his hand up. Up. Up.

I feel him through the folds of cloth gathered between my legs. A distant, ghost-like touch as he toys with the fabric.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he says.

My face wants to catch fire. I turn and flick hair from my eyes, trying to turn onto my side, to move away from his touch, and instead catch sight of the massive bulge at the front of his pants.

Which I happen to glance at.

And which he happens to see me doing.

Face utterly serious, he grabs my hip and forces me onto my belly again.