Page 88 of His Mark

I clenched my teeth, refusing to answer.

He chuckled annoyingly. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he admitted, his hand ghosting over the back of my leg. “Thinking about you like this—bent over, bare, your ass red and hot from my hand. Or…” He trailed off, his fingers hooking under the hem of my shirt, slowly pushing it up. “Maybe from my belt, or even a switch.”

Aswitch.

I sucked in a gasp.

Silas knew what he was doing—taking his time, dragging out the moment until I was shaking under his hands, until I felt the anticipation swirling deep in the pit of my stomach, making my thighs press together, my fingers dig into the thick bark beneath me.

His hand slid over the curve of my ass, warm and possessive through the fabric of my jeans.

“You’re going to feel this,” he murmured. “You’re going to remember it every time you sit down for days.” He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. “And the best part, Wildcat?” His fingers dug in slightly, making me gasp. “I’m going to love every second of it.”

Silas reached underneath my hips and unbuttoned my jeans before he pulled them down, baring me completely to the cool night air. My skin prickled with goosebumps, but it had nothing to do with the cold. My breath was already coming too fast, my heart pounding against my ribs as his hands traced over the backs of my thighs, over my tender cheeks. It was so humiliating.

I held onto the log, trying to come to terms with the reality of what was about to happen.

“I should make you cut the switch yourself,” he mused, his voice like a smooth caress. “Make you pick the branch that’s going to thoroughly welt this pretty little ass of yours.”

A shiver ran down my spine, but I stayed silent, my breathing shaky.

Silas hummed, his fingers trailing up my spine, then back down, soothing in a way that made me ache for him. “But you’d probably try to be clever,” he continued, “and find something too soft, too flimsy.” He leaned down, his lips tracing along my ear. “Wouldn’t you, Wildcat?”

I bit my tongue, refusing to answer.

His palm smacked down suddenly, a single sharp slap across my bare skin that made me jerk against the log.

I gasped, stretching out my fingers.

“I asked you a question, mate,” Silas said smoothly, his hand rubbing over the spot where he had just struck.

“Yes, Alpha,” I mumbled.

His fingers tightened briefly, squeezing my butt like he owned it. “Good girl.”

Then he straightened, stepping away. I exhaled, trying to steady myself, my body already too hot, already too aware of what was coming. A few seconds passed before I heard it.

The soft snap of a branch being plucked from a nearby sapling. The quiet rustle of leaves being stripped away. Shit. Silas returned, tapping the thin wooden switch lightly against his palm. I swallowed heavily, watching him over my shoulder as my nerves started to spiral out of control.

I could take his hand, but aswitching?

I was becoming less and less sure of myself by the second.

“You’ve got nowhere to run now, Wildcat,” he murmured. “You wanted to come with us so badly? Wanted to disobey me?” He traced the switch slowly over my bare skin, dragging it up and down his target. “You’re about to learn what it means to be punished like a bad girl.”

The switch traced along the curve of my ass, teasing, barely touching, but it was enough to make me hold my breath. Silas was in no rush, extending the torture of this. He took his time, letting the anticipation sink into me, letting the reality of what was about to happen settle deep in my bones.

I knew this was going to hurt.

That was the point.

He dragged the switch lower, over the backs of my thighs, just enough to remind me how exposed I was, how helpless. The rough bark of the log pressed into my stomach, my palms flattened against it for balance, my body fully open to whatever he had planned.

“You ready, Wildcat?” he asked.

I gritted my teeth, inhaling slowly. “Yes.”

The first strike landed without further warning.