Page 26 of Worth the Risk

His eyes slid sideways to meet hers. “Maybe, but once you get to know me better, you’ll find I’m a man who’s also easy to please.”

Did he mean...

She sat back in surprise. But as she mulled over the idea of getting busy with the scruffy-jawed, tousle-haired, dominant Dan in her new queen-size bed, she warmed to the idea. Including her cheeks, which flushed hotly at the path of her thoughts.

“I was talking about lunch. I’m starved.”

“Oh,” she replied, instantly deflating. “I could eat, I guess.”

He grinned. “What did you have in mind?”

“The same,” she lied.

It was so blatantly obvious he called her on it.

“Fibbing is neither open nor honest,” he reproved as he shifted onto a hip facing her. “It makes a man like me want to correct that type of behavior.”

“Correct how?” she whispered.

He leaned close, his nose nearly touching hers. “With firm discipline. Has anyone ever spanked you, beautiful?”

She inhaled sharply and shook her head.

“Not once in all your twenty-some years?” he asked.

“Twenty-seven.”

He held her gaze and declared in a deep, quiver-inducing drawl, “I’m thinking it’s past time.”

His fingers curled around her wrist, and he drew her toward him. Slowly, leaving plenty of time for her to object. While he sat back and guided her across his thighs, he laid out the rules.

“I’m going to give you ten swats over your jeans as a tiny taste of what a bad girl can expect from me. No kicking, squirming, or blocking with your hand. You have safewords, Bella, always. Just like at the club. Yellow means slow down, you need a break, or you’re scared. Saying red stops everything.”

This sudden turn of events from friendly apartment hunting to being punished by an experienced dominant seemed surreal. That it was big, strong, protective Dan, as sexy in snug jeans and a torso-conforming T-shirt as he was in his club leathers, only strengthened her desire for a taste of the lifestyle all the club members—hundreds of them—dished out astronomical memberships fees to enjoy.

Her body hummed in anticipation when he adjusted her position, moving her where he wanted her, touching her hips and thighs with familiarity.

“I need a verbal response, Bella. Do you understand the rules I set forth?”

“Yes,” she breathed shakily.

His big hand with fingers splayed slid over the expanse of her bottom, which was impressive because her booty was quite round. He patted it lightly.

“You’ve worked at the club for nearly two weeks. Try again using the correct address for a dom.”

“Yes, sir, I understand the rules.”

“Good girl,” he praised softly with another pat.

When his hand rose and fell again, it connected firmly, but it didn’t sting like she expected. The thickness of the denim probably helped cushion the blow, or maybe Dan was holding back.

The next swat landed lower, beneath her pockets, and made her gasp, not because it hurt but from the burst of excitement that tore through her.

More rained down, each with a resounding smack, and they got progressively harder. Now she felt a sting, but also a tingle that spread to adjacent places and made it hard to keep still. With two left, she couldn’t help squirming as the heat trapped by the denim became intense.

He paused, rubbing as if sensing her plight. “You’re doing so well, Bella,” he murmured.

She felt a sense of pride at his praise, and for submitting to him like this.

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