Page 81 of Point of Contention

All.

Mine.

What womanwouldn’tbe vibrating with excitement in this situation?

I bit down on my lip to hide my grin, but he caught it, titling his head.

“What are you smiling about?”

“That you’re mine,” I answered honestly.

He gave me a sly smile then turned away to peruse toys he had laid out on a table along the opposite wall. When he turned back to me with a riding crop in his hand, he smacked the leather tip against his opposite palm and a shiver shook my shoulders.

We’d been over all of the toys before—or at least most of them—so I knew what to expect with this one. We’d used it during one of our nights at the Rabbit Hole, but he’d been easing me into the lifestyle back then.

Tonight, however, he’d said he wanted to punish—and I’d volunteered as tribute.

A trickle of fear slid down my spine.

He searched my gaze, his dark brows drawing down over his eyes. “Are you afraid?”

“Yes.”

“You should be.” He stepped over to me, then dragged the folded leather tip of the crop in a straight line from my chin down, trailing between my breasts, then stopping just above my mound of hair. “I’m going to hurt you. Do you understand that?”

I shivered. “Yes, Sir.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” I heard myself say, even though I knew the appropriate answer was no. Of course I shouldn’twanthim to hurt me.

And yet…

He pressed the leather tip of the crop between my legs and I shuddered at the subtle touch. When he lifted it up between us again, the leather glistened in the soft amber light.

“I believe you’re telling the truth.” He smirked. “Tell me again what your safe word is, Rylan.”

“Hurry up?”

He brought the leather down hard against my hip. I sucked in a breath as a flash of pain spread out from the impact.

He straightened his shoulders and stared at me down his nose. Master Creed had officially entered the chat. “What is your safe word?”

“Lavender, Sir.”

“Be sure to use it if you need to.”

“I won’t need to, Sir.”

His eyes narrowed, then he raised an eyebrow.

I’d just challenged him.

My pussy throbbed with need even as fear traced an icy finger down my spine. His gaze traveled over my body slowly, leaving heat in its wake that seared my skin as if he’d touched me with his hot palm. He focused on the outside of my left thigh, then smacked me with the crop.

I sucked in a breath and he looked up at the soft space above my left hip. Another flash of pain accompanied the smack of leather against skin.

As he repeated this, focusing and then smacking, focusing and then smacking, I watched his eyes, anticipating each place he’d hit me seconds before it happened.

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