Page 15 of Christmas With The Kings
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not in authority over me, you know,” I huffed, chin tilting up.
It was a weak retort, and we both knew it. That’s when I saw it. A belt—draped diagonally across his chest. The thick leather bisected the inked woman eternally etched into his skin. My breath hitched. It wasn’t just any belt. It was worn, black, and too fucking familiar. Damn it. It was the Reaper’s.
My brain did a full-stop-slide into a fantasy so vivid I had to physically blink it away. Sebastian, tightening that belt around my wrists. That same steady expression on his face. The way he’d stare down at me, like I was nothing but disobedience and opportunity.
Jesus.
His blue eyes caught mine. There was amusement in them now. Something dangerous and smug, like he’d seen the exact movie reel playing in my head.
“Want to try that again?” he asked, dragging the belt slowly, deliberately, off his chest. The leather hissed against his skin like a promise.
I snapped my gaze away, cheeks burning. “Ugh,” I muttered. “I don’t want to talk to the old man, okay? You can’t make me.”
It came out more bratty than defiant, which only made his smirk deepen. His eyes twinkled dangerously.
“Actually,” he said, with a tone far too casual for what was about to come out of his mouth, “that’s exactly why I’m here. He said if you didn’t answer your phone, I was allowed to spank your sweet little ass with his belt.”
My mouth dropped open. “Hewhat?” I practically shrieked.
Bash twirled the belt once, slow and showy, before letting it snap back into his palm with a sharppop.
“You’ve got a decision to make, tiny tot,” he said, eyes glittering. “Choose wisely.”
I groaned long and theatrical before throwing my hands into the air. “Fine,” I snapped, stomping past him with dramatic flair. “But just so we’re clear, this is coercion, and I will be emotionally wounded forever.”
“Noted. You can bring it up with the Counselor at your next session,” Bash muttered, clearly fighting a grin as I marched to the bed.
I picked up my phone and angry scrolled—yes, that’s a thing. I punched the Reaper and waited. He picked up immediately.
“I swear to God,” he growled, voice sharp with frustration, “when I give you directions, your only job is to dowhat?”
I refused to answer and breathed hard into the phone like a stubborn teenager refusing to admit guilt. My chest rose and fell. I was not going to cry. I wasn’t. I was simply…processing with attitude.
“Kinsley Anya Marie,” he warned, using my full name with gravel and steel.
“Ialready told you,” I snapped, voice wobbling at the edges, “I have plans. You can’t expect me to drop everything—”
Sebastian snatched the phone clean out of my hand. “Brother?” he said, voice smooth as sin. There was a full minute during which the Reaper was sealing my doom.
“You got it. I understand the assignment and will gladly take this one for you. After all, I am my brother’s keeper.” He grinned at me as he said it.
I gasped as if he’d slapped me with a glove in the middle of a royal court. Everything happened so fast I didn’t have time to process it.
One second, I was still glaring at Bash in full-on brat mode—holding a massive grudge, and the next? The next, I was bent over the edge of the bed, palms braced against the mattress, my heart hammering in my throat.
Then—slap. The belt cracked across the lower curve of my ass. A loud gasp tore from my lips, sharp and unbidden, more from the shock than the sting. My body jerked, spine bowing instinctively as I tried to absorb the burn. It was hot, immediate, and then came a sweet sense of relief.
My head followed the movement. My phone was now lying face-up on the bed beside me. Alek’s voice called my name softly from the speaker. I froze. Bash’s eyes cut from me to the phone and back again, silently checking for my reaction. And I read the room. I knew exactly what this was, and that I had done it to myself.
“I’m here,” I choked out, breath catching. The emotions I’d tried to swallow down earlier came rushing back like a flood—anger, hurt, frustration, shame. I was drowning in all of it.
“You’ll count them out. Understood?” Alek’s voice was steel over the speaker.
My body instantly reacted to the tone. It was achingly familiar. And, oh, so damned safe.
“Yes, Master,” I replied, soft and small.
Maybe…maybe a spanking would set me straight. It usually did. The way my body responded to them still astonished me. How the strike of leather could quiet my mind. How everything inside of me, all the chaos and noise, wouldstop. The leather brushed against my ass, a teasing stroke—and I shivered, breath hitching in anticipation.
