Page 42 of Devious Corruption

I’m no match for him; he simply walks through the living room and into my bedroom. He pauses inside my bedroom, and for a brief shimmering moment hope blooms that he’s come to his senses.

“Out,” he orders. “You shouldn’t be here for this.”

I have to twist my body to see who he’s talking to. Marion takes her time hopping off the bed and walking from the room. Her tail does a little flick before she disappears into the living room, and Lev kicks the door shut.

“Traitor!” I yell at the door.

At my cat.

This man has me yelling at my own cat.

“At least one of the females in this apartment knowswhen to listen,” he mutters before dumping me onto my bed.

My hair falls into my face, draping across my vision. When I push it out of my way, Lev stands in front of me, his hands on his hips and a severe look in his eyes.

“I’m not sure where you get off thinking you can do any of this.” I scramble to the edge of the bed, intent on marching straight for the door.

Before my foot even dangles off the bed, Lev plops down on the mattress beside me, and has his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me over his lap.

Instinct kicks in, and I struggle, kicking and twisting, but I’m no match for the ogre. His arm might as well be made of lead for all the mass it has. I’m completely anchored to him as he jostles me around until he has me in a position he wants.

“Lev! Don’t do this.” I pause in my fight. “Please,” I say, more softly.

Honey catches more flies than vinegar. At least, that’s what my first foster mother told me.

“You’re right.” He rests his hand on my ass, splayed out, sending warmth through the denim of my jeans straight to my skin.

If he were to touch me, skin to skin, I’d be scalded. I’m sure of that and annoyed by the awareness. My body has to stop reacting to him as though he’s anything than the asshole brother of a new friend.

“Good. Let me up,” I press my hands against the mattress, ready to climb off his lap.

As soon as my ass lifts up from his lap, his hand sneaks beneath me, unbuttoning my jeans and tearing down the zipper before I can even register what he’s doing.

“I want you to feel every stroke,” he says, ripping my jeans, along with my panties, down over my ass and pulling everything down to my knees.

“No!” I fling my hand behind me, but I’m too slow.

He has me back over his lap, pinned down with his lead arm wrapped around my waist, in seconds. The first smack to my bare ass stills me. I’m shocked. Appalled.

“You spanked me!” I yell, immediately kicking my legs again.

My gym shoes, the sort you slip on, fly off my feet. One lands on my back while the other thuds to the floor.

He merely pushes the shoe from my back and repositions himself.

“You’ll make this harder if you keep fighting me.” He brings down his hand again, and then again.

I won’t stop fighting him. My kicks and my wiggles are all for nothing, though. The man doesn’t miss his target once.

Heat builds and builds, until every bit of my skin is ablaze. He shows no sign of stopping, either.

“If I ever have to pick you up from the police station again, you’ll feel the leather of my belt across this ass.” He smacks the bottom of my ass harder.

“I didn’t ask you to come get me!” I remind him.

He rests his hand on the top of my thigh, squeezinggently. “You don’t have to ask. I’ll always be there to save you.”

“I don’t need saving.” My voice is barely a whisper.