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palming the handle of a wooden fraternity-style paddle. If I hadn’t still been wet from the two rounds we’d just gone, I would have been instantly aroused. My knees went weak, and I leaned against one scarlet-painted wall and nodded.
    I wasn’t even sure what I was agreeing to. Did he want to work me over, or was he going to hand me that paddle and bend over himself? Honest to god, I didn’t fucking care. I would have done anything he asked, anything he said.
    “I could tell,” he said, moving closer, pressing up against that plaster wall, “I could tell right away exactly what kind of girl you are.”
    “What kind?” I managed to ask, wanting to hear, wanting him to say the words.
    “The kind who needs this—” and he placed his hand over my pussy, then pulled back and spanked me there. I bit my lip and lowered eyelashes. Oh, yeah. He’d read me. Read my whole notes. Knew my upbeat.
    “Now get that sweet ass of yours over to the bed and bend over. You know what time it is, don’t you baby?”
    I looked at him, eyes wide.
    “Time for this little slut to have her ass properly spanked, and then thoroughly fucked.”
    I didn’t move fast enough. I wanted to. The will was there. But my brain was frozen, couldn’t tell my feet what to do. Sean didn’t wait. He picked me up and threw me on the mattress. There were no clothes to get in the way, but he spread a sheet over me and smacked my ass through the fabric. I was startled by the move, until he pressed his mouth to my ear and said, “I like to build the rhythm.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’ll see.”
    He spanked me through the thin black cotton until I was squirming and twisting, and then slowly, so slowly, he lifted the edge of the sheet, revealing only the bottom quarter of my ass. Now, he spanked me on my bare skin, and I found that I was reaching up to meet each blow, arching my hips, higher and higher, and Sean chuckled under his breath.
    “I thought so.”
    Without any warning, his fingers met my pussy. Like they had moment before, but harder, and suddenly he was spanking me there, spanking my cunt with four firm fingers, and I was groaning and begging, my legs spread wide, wanting him to spank me harder, getting what I wanted without saying a word.
    Until he stopped.
    “Jesus, don’t.” I was aching, couldn’t believe that I could need to come again after all we’d done, couldn’t believe that he wouldn’t let me come. Eyes pleading him, body begging.
    “Don’t you know the rules, baby?”
    I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think.
    “You don’t come when you want to. You come when I say you can.”
    Holy fuck. I could have squeezed my thighs together and made the orgasm happen—if he hadn’t been watching me so closely, if he hadn’t known exactly what I was thinking. Because suddenly he was on me once more, spreading me out, stretching me taut, and I felt cuffs on my wrists, leather ties on my ankles. I was pinned to his mattress, head turned to stare as he lifted up a brand-new toy, as he set the weapon against my ass to let me feel what was in store. To let me feel exactly how whippet-thin this cane was.
    “You ready?”
    How can you say yes to something like that? Trust me, I know pain. Maybe that’s what Sean was checking from the start, that I didn’t squeak a protest when he scraped my back raw against the bricks of the club. That I didn’t moan or complain when he fucked me fiercely on those wooden boards outside, bruising my knees, chafing my elbows. He was testing my willingness to accept a little pain with my pleasure—and I’d shown him not only would I accept that spark, I’d blow on the flame.
    “You ready, Rebecca?”
    Again, waiting to hear, wanting to see what I’d say.
    “Always, “ was my smart-ass response. So much different from yes .
    “You’re going to count for me,” he said next, and my head was spinning. Fucking hell, he knew the drill. But then there was silence. I hate to say the word