Page 15 of The Captain’s Bounty (The Collectors #2)

She scrambled to obey, arching straight up onto her tiptoes to relieve the pressure of his grip as he marched her from the bed to park her, unbelievably, into the farthest corner of the room. He put her so far up to the wall that her nose almost touched where the two sides joined together.

She stared in disbelief at the cool gray metal.

“What are you?” he demanded.

“I’m very sorry,” she said, because no way in hell was she going to repeat what he’d said.

The being laughed inside her.

The flat of Bruwes’s hand slapped her ass, driving her to dance up onto her tiptoes, his grip on her hair preventing her from squirming away no matter how hard or unerringly his disciplining hand became as he repeatedly spanked her.

“I’m sorry!” she cried again, desperate for him to just be happy with that, but if anything, his hand grew harder, slapping the undersides of her ass until she just couldn’t bear it. Then he swatted the tops of both thighs

“I’m a naughty little girl!” she sobbed. “I’m a naughty little girl!”

She even bounced like one, unable to do anything but grab her legs and plead for him to stop.

“Hands on the wall,” he ordered.

She slapped them flat to the cool metal to either side of her head, all but burying her face in the backs of them.

“I changed my mind. Put them on the back of your head instead.”

She obeyed that order too, folding them one on top of the other on top of her head, just above his grip on her hair.

“Nose to the wall.”

She immediately touched the wall with her nose, sniffling and closing her eyes against the blush of humiliation now consuming her every bit as fiercely as the burning in her ass.

“Spread your feet, ass out.”

His voice was deepening, growing huskier. Liquid flowed as she tensed in automatic reluctance. His breathing was heavy and with every exhale, his heated breaths caressed the slope of her neck and her shoulder, sending goosebumps racing up her arms.

Defiance would bring more spanking and her ass was already so very tender. She debated for only half a heartbeat, but there was no other option. She shifted her feet apart, tipping her hips to push her bottom back toward him.

Her pussy quivered, her clit thrumming at his very nearness.

Please don’t let him notice.

I have no control over what he sees , the entity replied. If you don’t want him to act on your arousal, stop being aroused by him .

The Corner Gods were heartless bastards too. They not only ignored her prayers, but in the very next moment, Bruwes let go of her hair. His open hand settled on her back at the top of her spine, the heat of his open palm gripping the nape of her neck until her already tense legs began to shake.

“You are a naughty little girl who needs her bare bottom spanked until she learns to do as she is told.” The heat of his hand slipped down her spine, moving steadily lower, intensifying her trembling.

“Yes,” she whispered, praying he’d stop.

The Corner Gods ignored that one too.

“Say it,” Bruwes demanded, turning his hand when he reached the small of her back. His fingers now pointing toward her out-thrust ass, she didn’t even hesitate.

Her voice shook as badly as her knees, as she dutifully said, “I’m a naughty girl?—”

“Little girl.” His hand slipped lower, caressing the crack of her ass cheeks as a single finger slipped down to wedge itself in the valley between. The fiery heat burned hotter under the added warmth of his touch.

This was so humbling, so embarrassing. She didn’t want him to know how much wetter she was getting the longer he put her through this. Never, ever, ever had this happened to her before.

Don’t touch me there. Please… please…

You want him to touch you there. Very much , the being in her noted.

She shook her head.

Bruwes swatted her, once to each bottom cheek, hard enough to make her gasp and writhe. It only got worse when he seized her ass, fingers digging mercilessly into aching flesh.

“No, I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m a n-naughty little girl and I need m-my b-bottom spanked until I, um, I learn t-to do what I’m told.”

He swatted her bottom, but although the sting was there, it was different somehow. Deeper, more intimate. More intoxicating.

Masochist .

“No,” she whimpered, but the fluttering spasms in her pussy begged to differ. The fluttering spasms just plain begged.

His fingers splayed to get a grip on as much of her ass as he could hold. Slowly, he dug in and squeezed, bringing her arching back onto her tiptoes with another trembling gasp. She twitched, fighting back the urge to squirm and succeeded only in pushing her bottom that much further into his grip.

“Did you use your powers against my crewman?” he asked, the burning of his breath hot against the nape of her neck, caressing all the way to the shell of her ear, leaving her trembling.

“Yes,” she moaned, sniffling. A fresh new wave of tears flooded her, stinging where they gathered in her eyes.

Releasing her, his hand moved between her thighs, wringing a sharp cry from her when he took hard hold of her pussy. His fingers dug in, bringing her squirming as high onto her toes as she could get. Her body shook, her pussy sang, her clit pulsed in in the firm pinch of his fingers.

He was touching her more intimately than any other man ever had, and he was her captor. The very man she had every reason to hate. So why did her body ache for the squeeze of his hand? And how long would this torture last?

As if he could hear her thoughts, he released his grip, only to bring his fingers together into a probing point.

He pushed between her folds, coating his fingers in the moisture her wayward pussy kept seeping.

And suddenly, his was a spanking hand all over again, punishing her pussy with a single sharp swat, but she knew it was coming and she cried out before he’d even struck.

The slap was mortifyingly wet. She bowed her head, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see anything, wishing herself far away from this even as her clit throbbed its approval.

He rubbed the sting his swat had ignited in her sensitive folds, massaging the hurt and pleasure together. She stung, and burned, and tried so hard not to writhe along with the seductive stroking as he spread the achy fire that much deeper into her.

Forehead pressed against the wall, her hands gripping hard at her own hair, she spread her legs a smidge wider. So he could get his hand deeper between them and feel, in all her singing nerve endings, how complete he made her when he cupped the core of her need and squeezed.

“You will never again use your powers against my crew,” he said.

“No,” she agreed. “No, I swear.”

Pointless promise. They are my powers and I use them how I will .

Yeah, well, it wasn’t the one standing here with its legs akimbo and its pussy fully exposed to whatever whim Bruwes decided.

You love it.

I do not!

Pointless denial. I know all your secret thoughts .

She bowed her head, fighting back the sobs as he rubbed and swatted, rubbed and swatted.

And the lust still flowed, a hot gush of need that flooded his fingers as he parted her naughty folds.

Her hips bucked, seizing all over again, clutching at his penetrating fingers, owning her in the most intimate way a woman could be owned.

“Did you try to use your powers against me?”

Please no more , she silently pleaded, her head bowing and her shoulders shaking as she dissolved into tears. God alone knew what she was crying for—for him to stop, for him to do anything but stop… why did she want this so much? Why did this feel so good?

“Lissa,” he warned, his tone dipping so low that her clit spasmed and she damn near came.

She nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry, what?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, Sir.”

His exhale caressed the back of her neck as he bent to breathe her scent in, sending a riot of shivers racking through her.

Her nipples tightened, begging to be touched every bit as much as her abandoned clit as he slid his hand back out from between her legs.

The sudden coolness of his absence was devastating.

Her legs shook, her knees almost buckling beneath her.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

She did.

She kept her head bowed, so embarrassed and devastated that she couldn’t look at him. Not until he cupped her chin, forcing her watery gaze to his.

“On your knees, woman.”

She sank to the floor, the metal grate cold beneath her.

She tried to keep her eyes locked on his.

To do anything else would find her stare drifting to the unmistakable bulge that his cock had become in the front of his tan trousers.

She didn’t want to look at that. What’s more, she absolutely did not want him to see her looking.

As if she couldn’t already see his length in the periphery of her desperate stare.

It was like the rest of him, huge and hard, and right there within inches of her.

He tipped his head, the dark of his stare daring her to steel a peek.

“I am captain on this ship,” he told her. “ I am the master everyone else obeys. Open your mouth.”

She really did almost come that time, her pussy spasmed so hard. Swallowing convulsively, she opened her mouth.

Easing closer, he straddled her thighs, his heavy boots cool against the sides of her legs as he cupped the top of her head to prevent her instinctive retreat.

Gently, but firmly, he forced her mouth directly onto his concealed cock.

The cloth of his pants wasn’t much of a barrier.

She felt every hard inch of him, swollen solid against her lips and tongue, twitching with every heated exhale she breathed.

He held her like that, and she could have sworn she felt the pulse of his heartbeat through her lips. Her mouth watered despite her tears, and the dark moist stain that showed in the wetness that covered half his bulge when he finally pulled her back was obvious.

“Remove my belt,” he ordered.