Page 104 of The Prince of Power

Damian stands between me and the bathroom door, his posture languid. “Pick how you want to be punished.”

I blink at him. “What?”

“I have to do something, Ava.” He steps closer, lowering his voice. “For your own safety, they need to be reassured that I have you in line.”

My stomach clenches. “Do you mean a physical punishment?”

His expression doesn’t change. “Yes.”

A strange sort of pressure builds in my chest—a thing tangled between shock and something else I don’t want to name. My hands come up to my face, and I press my fingers against my cheeks. “What are you going to do?”

“You get to choose.” His gaze lazily trails down my body before settling on my butt. “There is something I’d like to do.”

Heat pools deep in my belly, along with a hot, unwelcome awareness. “Do you mean…” I swallow. “Do you want to spank me?”

His lips curve. “I’d love to.”

My breath hitches in my throat as the reality of the situation crashes over me in a suffocating wave. Something about the cold determination in Damian’s eyes sends shivers down my spine.

Pleasant shivers.

Oh God, why?

Why do I like this?

It’s humiliating.

“Is it going to hurt?” My voice is hoarse.

Damian’s smirk widens into a predatory grin. “If I have my way, you’ll scream loud enough for them to hear it in the dining room.”

I narrow my eyes on his face. “Are you going to enjoy it?”

He takes a step closer, lowering his mouth to my ear. “Oh yes, Ava. I’ll enjoy it very much.”

He sets his hand on my cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. “I think you might enjoy it too, little doll.”

My stomach churns. Oh God, I don’t think I’ve ever been so ashamed of myself in my whole life. I always thought interest in things like this—spanking, whips, and chains, etc.—was deviant. Perverted. But it turns out I’m one of those people.

And Damian knows. He knows that I’m aroused against my will.

He saunters over to the huge bathtub. He sits down on the marble step with his usual grace. He lifts one hand high in the air and flicks his fingers. I walk quickly and stand beside him.

“Lay on my lap.” His voice is rough.

I take a deep breath to steady myself. Slowly, I sink down onto his lap. His hard thighs press against my belly.

Damian’s hand caresses my butt, sending shivers down my spine. He lifts my sweater dress slowly up to my waist and releases a soft groan. “You’re so pretty.”

“Please just get it over with.”

“No.”

I grit my teeth. “I’m starting to think you lied. That this isn’t for my safety. I think you’re sick in the head.”

His warm laughter makes his thighs shake. I’ve always loved the sound of his laugh—when it’s genuine, of course.

He yanks my underwear down to my thighs.

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