Page 12 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

“I’m feeling a bit kidnapped,” I grumbled.

She flicked a glance my way. “And does it turn you on?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll drive you back in the morning, safe and sound. Though most likely a little bit worse for wear.”

It took me a second or two to realise the slick, twisty feeling in my stomach was anticipation. God. All these months, I’d been telling myself I was okay. Except I blatantly wasn’t. I’d just been numb. A half person, drifting through my days. I’d thought seeing Caspian—seeing that ring on his finger, Nathaniel’s hand, possessive on his arm—had broken me. When actually the pain was a door opening, and now I could feel again.

Given George’s plans for me, I texted Ellery to let her know I wouldn’t be home that night, and got back:

so?

Which, y’know, was…very her. And fine. Because I knew it didn’t mean she didn’t care—just that she didn’t signal caring the way most people did. But it made me miss rooming with Nik at Oxford. He would have sent me some suggestive emojis and said something nice likehave fun,I’ll miss you, or possibly,don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. So I could have replied that Ialwaysdo things he wouldn’t do.

Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I turned and gazed out of the window, letting the nondescript southern English countryside—grey and brown and tufty green—distract my eyes. Mainly, I was trying very hard not to think about the various journeys I’d taken with Caspian. The time he’d come to get me from Kinlochbervie, and how unexpectedly intimate it had been, sharing a car with him. Or riding with him in one of his endless black billionairemobiles when I’d got back from America. He’d kissed me so desperately then. Held me so tightly. Like he’d never let me go.

Except he had. He totally had.

George tapped my knee lightly. “Pretty kinky, you say?”

“Um. I guess?”

“What are you into?”

“Into?” I tried to sound casual. But ended up squeaking instead.

“Kinkyis a broad category, poppet. Tell me something you like.”

Oh God. It was sort of terrifying to be asked so directly. And a little bit thrilling. With a side order of excruciating. All sprinkled with a generous serving of,What the fuck do I say?

“The amount of time it’s taking you to answer makes me think you’re completely depraved. But don’t worry.” George let the words hang for a moment. “I’m here for it.”

“I’m not depraved. I’m embarrassed.”

“Then think of this as foreplay.”

“Um. Um.” Shit. I’d oversold my own kinkiness in a moment of kamikaze bravado. I mean, how kinky could I be if I couldn’t even admit what I wanted? “Spanking. I like spanking. Being spanked, I mean. I like being spanked.”

George gave a low rumble of what I assumed was pleasure. “Mmm, me too. Spanking, that is. Being spanked somewhat less so. Is that impact play in general, or just spanking?”

“I…I don’t know. I’ve only ever been spanked.”

“Now that is truly a tragedy. What in the world was Caspian doing with you?”

“Stop.” The word exploded out of me. “Safe word. Red. Red. Whatever. I’m touching my ear.”

“Of course. Do you need me to pull over?”

I sucked in a few frantic breaths and pressed my hands together to stop their sudden shaking. I’d gone from okay to not-okay so fast I’d shocked myself. “N-no. I don’t think so. S-sorry.”

“Please don’t apologise. What did I do?”

“You…” My heart was still racing. And I was actually having trouble figuring out what the problem was for myself. Let alone trying to articulate it to George.

“Take your time. I can turn round. Or we can stop.”

“If,” I said slowly, the thought squeezing out of my brain like a water droplet from the end of a broken tap, “we’re going to do this…you can’t make it about Caspian. Because you don’t know him. And it’s not fair.”