Page 9 of Empress of Ruin
“Over my lap, Lyra.” He doesn’t flinch. “Right now.”
How can he say thatso casually?Where the hell does he get off, saying that to me?
“I’m not a child.”
“No, but you have been an obscenely bad girl.” He taps his thigh twice. “Now.”
I know what happens next. Killian’s a sadist, through and through. He pulls down my sweats and panties, and sets about ensuring that I won’t be able to sit comfortably for a week. If I deny him, it gets worse. If I don’t comply, it gets worse.
Killian’s cruelty is predictable. It’s routine. It is one thing that I hoped,prayedI would never have to deal with again.
“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with now. There’s no use torturing me first.” That’s just poor form.
Killian’s response is toroll his eyes. “I’m not going to kill you. You’re of no use to me dead.” His tone is so blasé, I almost believe him.
“If you don’t want your punishment to increase, I’d advise complying now,” he says casually.
He’s already going to double whatever he had planned in the cemetery. Pushing back will only get me into deeper shit.
I’m mildly surprised that he’s not forcing me, but I guess that’s part of the point, isn’t it? It’s far more humiliating to succumb by choice than it is to be forced.
My cheeks burn as I slowly move towards him, eyes lowered, jaw clenched. “Position?” My voice is flat.
“Face down, ass up,” Killian says simply. “I might be inclined towards lenience if you decide to pull down your sweatpants and panties, as well.”
He wants me topresentmyself to him. I swallow, and take a beat to find my composure.
Then, I follow his instructions. It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and embarrassing to deliberately fold myself over him. I brace my knees on one side of his lap, straighten, and tug down my pants and panties. After another deep breath, I lower my elbows on the other side of him. Face down, ass up, just as he requested.
“Very nice.” The praise is faint, but it makes me feel warm for another reason entirely.
“I was planning on twenty back at the cemetery. Our deal pushes than number up to forty."
My fingers curl into the leather as I wait for him to start, but he doesn’t.
“But your compliance shaves off ten. So we’ll settle on a nice, even thirty. Afterwards, you will apologize for your dismal behavior, and thank me for the punishment.”
“I hate you,” I whisper.
“Irrelevant,” he responds calmly. “Hate me or love me. It doesn’t really make a difference, now, does it?” His hand cracks down on one side of my ass; the pain is instant and overwhelming. I try to regulate my breathing and fail miserably. Then, I try to regulate my heartbeat and fail even more miserably.
Another hit follows, making me flinch, and then a third. Burning heat spreads over my ass, but it slowly begins to morph into a different sort of warmth. My core begins to ache, imperceptible at first, but then with more intensity. By the tenth spank, Killian’s really starting to put his strength into the slaps, but I’m shifting uncomfortably.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?” he asks conversationally.
I blink, not processing his words at first. Is he… is he going tointerrogate mewhile he’s doing this?
When I don’t respond, another, much sharper and morepainfulhit follows, right over my sit-spot. “I asked you a question, little bird.”
He’s asking me questionsnow?When my thoughts are a scrambled, fragmented mess? He said—
Wait, no. He never mentioned that it was either talking before the spanking or after. He just offered before. I guess the alternative option wasduring. Yet another calculated move on his part—how am I supposed to think my answers through when I’m a puddle of pain and slowly building warmth?
I’m not. That’s the point.
“I—” I cut off when he spanks me again, jerking.
“Answer me,” he requests simply.
