Page 13 of Shades of Ruin (Sharp Edges Duet #2)

I don’t answer her bratty reply. I just draw back my hand and slam it against her ass with enough strength to force a shriek from her lips.

I hit her again. Smack . And twice more in quick succession where I delivered the others.

Smack. Smack. I hit her even harder , raining a torrent of blows in exactly the same spot, never alternating sides or lowering in intensity.

I spank her until she’s squirming, lifting her left side in the air like she’s begging me to spread the pain.

When I finally decide she’s red enough, I switch to her other side, hitting a new spot every time so she can’t keep track of the rhythm.

Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack . She’s probably taken thirty-five or forty hard slaps of my hand by now.

I never count the blows—the count doesn’t matter, only the color.

Angélica’s golden skin turns the prettiest shade of copper as I work her over, her sweet little moans echoing through the room.

I focus on spanking her lower, catching that tender crease between her ass and thighs.

After a few sharp slaps to the tops of her thighs, my hand comes back wet.

I pause, staring at the glistening stickiness on my fingertips in surprise.

“Spread your legs,” I command, my voice strained as I battle the urge to plunge into her cunt right now.

Without any hesitation, she shimmies her pants a bit lower so she can spread her legs for me.

And when she parts those soft thighs— fuck me —I can see that she’s soaked right through the red lace covering her pussy, white trails of cream drizzling down her warm skin like icing.

Christ, what I’d give to lick her clean and taste her sweetness on my tongue again.

“Do you like being spanked, Angélica?” I ask while dragging my middle finger up her thigh through a ripple of cum.

“No,” she moans, squirming against the edge of the desk like she’s aching to find even the smallest hint of friction between her legs.

“Such a little liar,” I tut with a sharp slap against her ass.

She whimpers at the sting of another blow falling on her scorched skin.

Then she grinds her hips into my cock like a slut begging for more.

“Want to see how sweet your lies taste, angel?” Her nickname from Halloween slips from my lips, but thankfully she’s too distracted by my wet fingers pressing against her mouth to notice. “Open up.”

I’m surprised when she parts her lips, allowing me to slide two of my fingers past her teeth.

“Taste yourself,” I order. My cock jolts when I feel her warm, wet tongue wrap around my fingers before her lips close and she sucks me deep into the back of her throat.

A rumbling groan erupts in my chest, and I brace myself against the desk to keep from whipping out my cock and fucking her pretty mouth right now.

And fucking Christ do I want to, but I’ve allowed this to go too far already.

“That’s enough punishment for tonight,” I growl, the words rough and jagged as my heated blood rages for more .

With a sharp tap of my other hand against her cheek, she releases my fingers coated in her spit.

Unable to resist, I lick them to see if she still tastes like I remember.

I whimper when the lingering aroma of her cunt hits my tongue, and I realize my memory could never do it justice.

I’m dying to slide my mouth down to her spread pussy and suck her dry before filling her the fuck back up like an overstuffed profiterole.

But I can’t let myself lose control like that.

Not yet. The fact that I made it six months without touching her is a goddamn miracle, but now that I have, I’m only delaying the inevitable.

Each day I’m near her, I feel a small fragment of my mask slip away.

She’s uncovering the demon piece by piece, and when she finally realizes the truth—it may be the end of both of us.

“You can stand up,” I tell her, stepping back to give her some space. It’s a battle to keep my tone professional considering what I just did, and I’m completely ignoring the things I thought about doing afterward.

Without a word, she rights herself and awkwardly drags her jeans back up over her sore ass.

The rough material must chafe her raw skin, and I wish I could help ease the sting, but that’s not what she needs.

I gave her what I could—it’s the pain she wants from me, not the softer side that comes after.

Even though it hurts to hold back from giving her the comfort she deserves. “Angélica?—”

“Are we done here?” she snaps, her dark hair whipping through the air as she turns to face me. Her white shirt is wrinkled and half-tucked into her pants, but there aren’t any tears in her eyes, no streaks of mascara running down her cheeks.

“No tears, then?” I ask, not that I’m surprised. It will take a lot more than a few slaps from my hand to break her.

“I told you there wouldn’t be.” Her golden-brown eyes flash with hatred—but that’s not quite right. It’s something very close to hatred, but it feels different. Fiercer. More volatile. Hotter than a burning flame. “Am I free to go? ”

“I can drive you home.” I need to have a less than friendly chat with her bitch of a roommate anyway.

“I think you’ve done more than enough this evening,” she grits out of clenched teeth. “I’ll take the bus like I always do.” She sways on her feet as she says it, her body suddenly reminded that she’s had very little sleep the past few days.

“I’m not letting you go home alone in this state, Angélica. You can barely stand as it is.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sit your ass down,” I command, pointing to the couch at the other end of my office. “Being reckless and irresponsible is what got you into trouble today. Maybe you should try listening instead of fighting me for a change.”

Scowling, she stomps over to the couch and plops onto the cushions with a huff that turns into a wail when she remembers her ass is freshly spanked.

I smile down at her in triumph as I stride toward her.

“Lie down and get some rest. After you’re able to stand steady on your feet, I’ll let you go home however you want.

But I’m not letting you walk the streets of Chicago alone at night when you’re sleep-deprived and sore. ”

“The sore part is your fault, you know,” she hisses.

“Yes, I know,” I answer with an unabashed smirk. “But you deserved it just the same.”

She rolls her eyes and lies back against the pillows. “Fine, I’ll shut my eyes for a few minutes.” She lifts her head up to glare at me. “But only if you leave. I don’t want you staring at my unconscious body like a creep.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

We both know I fucking would.