Page 105 of The Colour of Revenge

I kiss her hard.

Her moan vibrates against my mouth, sending a jolt of heat straight through me.

Fuck. Three days without her. Too long.

“I want to punish you,” I murmur against her lips, my voice low and laced with intent.

Her breath hitches, eyes darkening with desire. “How?” she whispers, her voice trembling just enough to betray her anticipation.

I pause, letting the tension build, my gaze holding hers. “Do you trust me?”

The question hangs between us, heavy and unspoken in its depth.

“Yes,” she answers softly, but with unwavering certainty.

Satisfied, I shift off her, rising to my full height as I stand over the bed.

I pull her up my body, capturing her lips in a kiss so intense it might as well come with a warning label, before pushing her onto the bed. I position her with her ass raised, chest pressed against the sheets, and her legs dangling off the edge like she’s auditioning for the world’s most provocative yoga class.

I shove her dress up over her hips, exposing her smooth unblemished skin.

“Nate—wait, what are you doing?” she stammers, twisting to look back at me, her tone hovering somewhere betweenwhat fresh chaos is this?andoh, tell me more.

I lean over her, my breath warm against her ear. “Do you still trust me?”

She swallows hard, then nods. "Yes."

Her voice is quiet but steady.

"Good," I murmur, dragging my hand down the curve of her spine. I take my time, letting my palm glide over the smoothness of her skin. When I finally speak again, my voice is low and deliberate. "I'm going to hit you."

She stiffens, a sharp inhale cutting through the air. "What?"

"Spank you."

Her breath catches, and I don’t miss the way her body squirms against the bed, her hips giving a little shimmy like they’ve already RSVP’d to this spanking party. “Oh," That sound—the soft exhale, heavy with anticipation—ignites something dark inside me.

I smile.

"Count with me," I order, my voice rougher now like a challenge.

I don’t warn her before the first strike.

The sound is sharp, sudden—louder than I expected.

Carina gasps. Her back arches slightly, like she doesn't know whether to move away or press closer.

"Count," I remind her, my voice firm.

She swallows. "One."

Good girl.

I bring my palm down again, striking the same spot. Her body jerks beneath me, but she doesn't pull away. I run my hand over the warmth of her skin, soothing the sting and savouring the way she trembles under my touch.

"Two," she whispers.

Another strike. This time, her breath hitches sharply, her fingers gripping the sheets.