Page 75 of Before Broken Vows

"Yes, Sir."

His hand lifts, then comes down on my right cheek.

"One," I gasp. "Thank you, Sir."

Another slap, harder this time, on the left.

"Two. Thank you, Sir."

By the fifth, my skin is burning, sensitized. By the tenth, I'm moaning, pushing back into each strike, craving the sting, the heat, the reminder that I'm his again.

"Good girl," he says after the fifteenth, his hand rubbing circles on my reddened skin. "So good for me."

His fingers dip between my legs again, finding me even wetter than before.

"You've always loved this," he says, voice thick with arousal. "Being punished, being shown your place."

"Only by you, Sir," I say, the truth spilling out. "Only ever you."

"That's right," he says, voice low and possessive. "Only me."

In one fluid motion, he lifts me from his lap and tosses me onto the bed like I weigh nothing. I bounce once before he's on me, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand.

"Did you miss your master?" he growls.

I nod and he stops me by gripping my wrists even tighter letting me know I've misstepped.

"Answer me properly, my little slut."

"Yes, Sir," I breathe, throat dry, body trembling.

He smiles. "There she is," he says, rubbing my cheek gently before sliding down and gripping my throat.

"Look at me," he demands.

I meet his gaze, seeing the storm of desire, anger, possession.

"You're mine," he says, leaning in and licking my lips. "Say it."

"I'm yours," I say. "I've always been yours."

He trails his tongue down the side of my neck to my breasts, where he licks, sucks, and kisses. My body feels like fire and ice at the same time.

"You wore nothing under your robe. Were you hoping I'd fuck you tonight?"

I nod, unable to speak.

"Words."

"Yes, Sir," I moan.

Theo's mouth crashes onto mine, but it's not sweet or careful—it's a claiming. His tongue pushes past my lips, and I whimper beneath him, submitting instantly to the demand. His weight presses me into the mattress, chest to chest, heat to heat.

His hand finds my swollen clit and he rubs the tips of his fingers up and down my opening.

"Tell me who owns this pussy, Stassi."

"You do," I say breathy.