Page 102 of House Rules

“I think you’re going too easy on her,” someone says.

“Then break her. She’s not allowed to come or let the plug fall out. You don’t want her here? Then make her lose.”

No. I can’t lose. I won’t.

I’ve already lost too much in my life. This? This I can control. This I can win.

The vibrator is suddenly gone. And Maverick pulls away—no, that’s not right. He isn’t pulling away from me. Someone shoved him.

Suddenly, Atticus clamps my shoulders and turns me so I’m stretched out along the table on my back—head toward him, feet toward Con. Con plants himself at my ankles; Atticus stays by my head. Atticus captures my wrists above me. Con hooks my hips. On a silent cue they move as one, levering and pivoting me until I’m flipped onto my stomach, my chest hitting the cold hardwood.

The breath leaves my lungs with the impact. My cheek is pressed to the table. My fingers curl instinctively over the edge. I can’t see them now; I can only feel, every inch of me lit with nerves.

“What is your safe word?” Atticus asks.

I clamp my mouth shut and shake my head.

“You need to answer me,” he says, lacing his fingers into my hair and forcing my head up so I’m looking into his eyes. “Answering me when I ask what your safe word is does not constitute using your safe word. I just need to know that you remember what it is.”

“Titan,” I answer, heart racing.

“Good girl,” Atticus says before slamming his lips down on mine.

His kiss is hot, unyielding, and consuming. It’s less of a kiss than it is a brand, like he’s carving his name into my mouth, branding me with want and punishment all in one.

When he breaks away, I’m left gasping for air, trying to understand what’s happening.

“You fucked up bad, Kitten. This isn’t how I wanted to play with you the first time. I wanted to warm you up, get you used to it. Get you addicted to the pain.” His hands move from my throat to my shoulders. His voice is low, regretful, cruel. It bleeds across my skin like ice and fire all at once.

“But now I have to break you before you’re ready. If you need to use your safe word, use it. But the consequences stand. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” My heart pounds in my ears, and my throat is dry—but my determination is steel. If this is the price of staying, of proving myself, I will pay it.

“Good. Your punishment, Kitten, from me is five lashes. Do not make a single sound. If you make a sound, I’ll start over. Understood?”

This time, I nod.

“Good. Then hopefully you only have to learn this lesson once. Next time we play like this, I’ll show you what it’s like to mix pleasure with the pain. How breaking your mind can lead you to a new depth of ecstasy.”

His voice dips at that last word—ecstasy—like a promise and a threat at the same time. My body clenches with anticipation.

He places another swift kiss on my lips, then takes my hands and places them at the edge of the table, so my fingers can curl around it.

“You might want to hold on.”

He takes a few steps back, and I watch as he slowly undoes the metal buckle of his leather belt. The sound of the leather sliding through loops sends a tremor down my spine. Not fear. Something darker. Something hungrier.

“No,” Con says, stepping in and putting his hand on Atticus’s chest.

Atticus looks at his hand, then raises a brow, cool and unimpressed.

“I don’t want her silent,” Con says.

“Well, this isn’t your punishment. And I don’t feel like hearing her scream.”

“No,” Con repeats. “I want to hear her count.”

Atticus glares at him for a long second, grinding his jaw. He doesn’t like interference. Doesn’t like losing control.