“Valerie, it is. Now, tell me on a scale of 1-to-10, where ten is excruciating and one is barely there, how much does this hurt?” He slapped her harder.
A bare sting. “Two.”
“Mmm, you’re going to be delightful.” He delivered three more powerful spanks.
Her blood started to hum.
“Number?”
“Five.”
“Very good, we’ll stay with this for a while and see how you like the burn.” He started smacking her, strong, even blows, one cheek, then the other, then several in one spot.
The sting of each radiated out, through her whole body. Rousing everything inside her and heating her blood.
Unlike the flogging, this wasn’t impersonal; in fact, when he stopped and rubbed her bottom, it was the furthest thing from impersonal. She was lying across his legs; his bare hand was on her ass.
And she was growing aroused.
Could he tell? Face flaming, she tried to push up.
“No, pet. There’s no shame here in the Shadowlands,” he said. “Actually, we’re much alike. Giving pain to a willing recipient makes me hard—and receiving pain excites you.”
His hand in the center of her back held her down. “You’re in a place that celebrates this kind of kink, so you’re going to relax and enjoy it.”
At the firm command, everything inside her melted into a total puddle of goo.
“Very good.” His chuckle was low and deep. “Say ‘stop’ if you truly want to quit; otherwise, I’m going to hold you here and give us both what we want.”
His left hand kept her still against his legs as he increased the impact of his right, although the blows stayed even. He paused long enough for each burst of pain to transform to simmering need.
Pleasure took her over, roaring through her, filling all the pockets of need that had existed for so, so long.
He halted. “Number, Valerie?”
“Seven, a marvelous seven.”
His laugh was deep and wonderful. “I’d have to agree. Hang on, then, pet.”
As if she could go anywhere.
The firm control he had over her body, the authority in his voice was like turning up the heat under a pot of water. Her blood was starting to boil…with need.
“Brace for the next batch, lass.” He smacked her hard, did some softer ones, then stingingly hard again.
Like an ancient chorus, the pattern repeated until her bottom was aflame. Such an amazing burn.
“Oh my god, he’s hitting her too hard. He’s hurting her. Stop him.” Queenie’s voice was loud and clear.
When Valerie stiffened, the professor eased off. His blows slowed and lightened, even as he grumbled under his breath, “Vanillas.”
She choked on a laugh.
“We’ve been busted, lass. I’m going to help you stand and will hold you until you’re steady.” He eased her to her feet, even as he rose and gripped her waist.
Her ass stung, and if she weren’t an adult—or in public—she’d have rubbed her bottom like a child. Instead, she pulled in a breath and faced him.
Taller by several inches, he smiled down at her, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you for the most fun I’ve had in”—he frowned—“in an exceptionally long time.”
She swallowed, unable to look away from the hard face, the attentive gaze. Unable to not respond to his honesty. “Me, too.”
“Good.” He stepped back slightly and ran his hands up and down her arms as if to restore her circulation. “Next time, we’ll do this without the jeans.”
Heat swept into her face, and his smile widened. How many times had he made her blush in the last few minutes?
“Are you steady on your feet? Dizziness? Pain? Aside from your ass, of course.” A grin flashed white in the tanned face.
She half-snorted, then moved another step away, far too conscious of Queenie. “I’m good to go. I…thank you.”
The sharp green eyes softened, and he ran his knuckles over her cheek. His voice dropped to where only she could possibly hear. “The nice part of when sadists and masochists interact is no thanks are needed. We both enjoyed me beating on your ass.”
Her mouth dropped open, because…it was obvious he had liked spanking her. How different this had been from Barry’s begrudging two spankings.
“Come back, and we’ll do it again,” he said softly, before turning to Queenie. “Here she is, all right and tight.”
Chapter Three
On campus, Ghost sat in the mid-sized lecture hall and barely kept from sighing.
Yesterday, he’d thoroughly enjoyed his lecture because his class covering World War I held students who truly were interested in military history. The discussion about