Page 73 of A Lady's Handbook of Espionage
“Language,” he said, trailing fingertips down her spine. Taking his time. “How many do you think it will take for you to act like a proper wife, Mrs Ashford? Five strikes on this pretty arse? Ten? How many before the lesson sinks in?”
“However many mydarlingfake husband deems sufficient,” she demurred.
“Hmm. Such good behaviour already. One might conclude you’ve a taste for this manner of correction.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
“Six should do it,” he decided. “But only if this arse is red when we’re done.”
He waited until her fingers curled against the desktop, savouring the anticipation. Then he brought his hand down again in a stinging slap.
“Two,” he said. “Keep count. Lose track of or omit a number, and we start over.”
The third blow landed harder, a red handprint blooming on her pale skin.
“Three,” she gasped out.
“Verygood, sweetheart.”
He rubbed at the spot, waiting for her to relax. Isabel pressed back into his palm. The movement was unconscious, instinctive – a wordless plea for more.
“Submission looks exquisite on you. You should wear it more often.”
He felt her shiver at the praise before his hand came down.
Slap.
“Four.” She clutched the table hard. “Are you enjoying this, Mr Ashford? How depraved.”
“Depraved, am I? Because I think you like being bent over, Mrs Ashford.” He leaned in until his lips brushed her ear. “Is it the risk that excites you? Knowing someone could walk in and see me owning you?”
Without warning, he slid two fingers inside her.
“Oh,God.” Her head dropped forwards.
“There’s my answer. So I suppose that makes you just asdepravedas I am.”
Slap.
“Five,” she moaned. “Harder, Mr Ashford. Punish me.”
Callahan let out a laugh. “That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble one of these days.”
Isabel met his gaze over her shoulder. “Promise?”
Slap.
“Six,” Isabel managed, the word coming out on a shaky exhale.
“Time to occupy that mouth, Mrs Ashford.” He eased his fingers out of her and raised them to her lips, painting them with the evidence of her desire. “Suck. I want you to taste your depravity.”
Isabel parted her lips and took his fingers deep in her mouth.
Christ God, he was so hard, it hurt.
“That’s it,” he crooned. “See how beautifully you submit when properly handled?”
Pulling free from her mouth, he sank his fingers inside her once more.
