Page 69 of Forbidden Fate

The post-sex fog slowly clears.

What the fuck just happened to me?

I blink at the wall. The bed is too comfortable. The sheets are too clean.

And I…

I’m…not myself.

Since when do I enjoy getting spanked?

I’ve never been spanked before during sex. It’s not something I ever thought I’d want.

But with Cruz, it was just what the doctor ordered.

Is it because of the circumstances?

I’m not a psychologist. I can’t understand why I wanted what I wanted.

All I know is it was magnificent.

I drag in a breath and let it out slowly.

Think.

I’m good at thinking.

My life is built on thinking. On reading behavior. I have to be good at it as a vet because animals can’t talk.

For the life of me, though, I can’t read what just happened between Cruz and me.

I close my eyes.

I’ve never asked a man to be rough with me. I’ve never asked to be hurt, even in a controlled way. I’ve never wanted that. Usually, I prefer tenderness. Hands that move slowly. A mouth that takes its time. Soft sheets and soft words and the kind of touch that makes a woman feel cherished instead of claimed.

Apparently I don’t know a damned thing about myself, because tonight I looked at Cruz, my captor-turned-rescuer, the man who once stood between me and freedom, and I wanted something dark.

Dark and dangerous.

I wanted the sharp edge of it. I wanted to take what was terrifying and make it mine.

Or maybe I just wanted Cruz to stop treating me like I was fragile.

I shouldn’t like it so much.

Cruz shifts beside me. Moves toward me, settles his hand on my back.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice slow.

I keep my eyes closed. “If you ask me that again, I’ll smother you with this pillow.”

He lets out a low chuckle.

I tug the sheet higher over myself, though we’re past modesty at this point.

God, I’m in trouble.

Cruz should be a means to an end. An ally of necessity.