Page 16 of The Captain’s Bounty (The Collectors #2)

Her pussy sang, the burning excitement spreading like wildfire through her veins even as her bottom clenched and her skin crawled.

Hands shaking, she fumbled with the clasp, pulling the worn leather free.

It took more strength than she at first thought to pull it free of his pants loops and from around his lean hips.

When he held out his hand, hers tingled as she handed him the belt.

“Do slaves get their bottoms whipped with Master’s belt when they misbehave?” he inquired, the corner of his mouth curled with dark amusement.

She looked at the belt, dangling from his hand by the buckle. How was she to answer that without accidentally goading him into using it? “I...”

Without waiting for her to answer, he backed away. Just four steps took him halfway to the waiting bed, and damn if her nipples didn’t harden like diamonds. Her breasts grew heavy with need, and her clit burned with furious need as he ran the length of his belt through his fingers.

Folding it, he wrapped the excess length around his hand, making ready to use it. “Come to me.” He snapped his fingers at the floor. “Now.”

Swallowing hard, the burning between her legs not swayed in the slightest, she began to stand.

His tone dipped sharply as he snapped, “Did I say get up?”

She froze. He… he couldn’t mean she was to crawl? Could he? His face was stony, unwilling to take questions she knew better than to ask.

Lowering herself to all fours, she looked at him, the belt dangling in his hand. Her bottom tensed, heat flaring in both her belly and her face. Checking for his approval, she started to crawl.

It took her twice as long, more than doubling the steps that walking would take to close the distance between them. The grate hurt her knees and shins, but more than that discomfort was her reluctance to goad him into using the implement hanging limp at his side.

When she reached him, she waited, her heart beating hard.

“You will never use your powers on me again.” Slowly, he offered her the belt. “Kiss the implement with which you shall be punished. Submit to it, and to me.”

Her breath caught. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Her mouth ran dry, but her pussy was anything but. He just… couldn’t possibly mean for her to actually kiss that… could he?

His jaw clenched once and he tipped his head, a sure sign that she was running out of time.

Her ass hurt so much already. The thought of having to take even just one swat more made her brave in a way only desperation could.

Her heart fluttered, but it was the most exhilarating sense of panic she’d ever felt as she, hoping to deflect his painful intent, ducked in and quickly kissed his cock instead.

Easing back onto her heels, she stared at the floor, horny as hell and half-terrified of his response. Her face burned. Her whole body burned she was so appalled by what she’d just done and that only got worse the longer the silence stretched on.

Why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he saying something?

Wondering how badly she’d just screwed up, she stole a peek at him.

The naked hunger on his face was almost enough to make her come.

Her pussy reacted so strongly, she snapped her legs shut, her hands fisting to keep from covering herself. As if he’d let her.

He didn’t, but he didn’t use his belt either. Dropping it on the floor at his feet, he seized a fistful of her hair.

“Crawl,” he ordered, and she did, all the way back to the end of the bed.

Being bent over the foot of it took the pressure of the grate off her knees, but it wasn’t softness that she ached most to feel.

The snaps as he unfastened his pants was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

“Does this slave want to be punished with her Master’s cock?” he growled.

She blanched. Just the shock of hearing that word rocketed through her trembling nerves.

“I am not a slave,” she told him, her voice shaking every bit as badly as the rest of her. “And you are not my Master.”

His heavy hand clamped onto the back of her neck, forcing her down on the mattress. And then she felt it.

Oh, Jesus! Was that his cock ?

Lissa stared through the blankets, dazed as the hard nudge of something round, as rough as the rest of his bark-like skin, and fully erect caressed along the slit of her sopping wet sex until it perched on the verge of penetrating her.

“Try again,” he ordered as it stroked up and down, back and forth along her seam, toying with her, bathing in the slickness of her body and bumping her needy clit with every pass.

“Please don’t make me say it,” she begged.

Shoving back off her, Bruwes fetched the belt.

“This s-slave w-wants to be punished!” she shouted, repeating only as much as she could bring herself to say and praying she wouldn’t feel the sharp crack of the belt just as soon as she was done.

Up went his arm and down came the belt, whipping her backside, driving her to dance and shimmy, though her torso never left the mattress. He cupped between her legs again, and she yelped before realizing he was parting her with his fingers, not spanking her there.

“Say it right,” he ordered.

“This slave wants to be punished with her M-Master’s cock!” she sobbed, breaking off with a gasp when he pulled back far enough to clutch the base of himself, and then slammed into her.