The sizzle heated up again, a little faster and harder. A little hotter. She closed her eyes to enjoy the burn seeping through her.
“Cherry?”
“Three, four, five.”
“Good.” He stroked her ass, the heat of his palms intensifying the crackling warmth.
Her breathing was a bit heavier now, her voice shakier. No doubt, he heard it, too. She wanted to hang on to her fury, but she was finding it more difficult to concentrate on anything except her anticipation of Logan’s next slap. His movements had a rhythm Tara couldn’t escape. Lured by the cadence, she sank into sensation.
“Feeling warm back here, Cherry?” He rubbed his palm over the fading sting of her right thigh, and the friction of his skin sliding against hers did something to Tara that she didn’t understand. The sensations felt almost dreamlike. The peace of it lulled her.
“Yes.”
“You finding a little place in your head to sink into?”
How had he known?
“It’s called subspace,” he offered. “All submissives go there when they’re getting what they want and need. It’s their happy place. Get cozy, baby. You’ll be spending a lot of time there.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he rained down another series of blows on her tender ass, each a bit more forceful than the last. A slow fire began to burn. Everything between her hips and her knees throbbed, especially her pu**y. With the slaps ringing in her ears and the prickling heat quivering across her skin, she lost count of his blows.
“Cherry, where are we? How many?”
She blinked and realized that she’d zoned out looking at the concrete floor and feeling the erotic rhythm of his hand striking her, skin on skin.
“Six, seven, eight, nine.”
He smacked the side of her thigh. “Focus. That was six through ten. Do I need to start over?”
“No, Logan.” But she swallowed at the thought of staying here, pinned helplessly across his lap while he heaped one slap after another across her tender bu**ocks. She should hate his guts, but imagining that he might continue to spank her to his satisfaction made her impossibly hot and wet.
Suddenly, he thrust a hand between her legs, his fingers sliding through her copious juices to brush across her clit. She gasped and tried to twist away. No luck. He circled the sensitive nub once, twice. Tara couldn’t hold in her moan.
“You going to tell me now that you don’t like to be spanked?”
She bit her lip. How could she be aroused so completely by someone who’d broken her heart in the past and done his part to ruin her future? Then again, she had no way to lie. Given her very fair skin, she was going to bruise. And yet knowing he’d leave his mark on her somehow turned her on more.
“Cherry, I asked you a question.”
“No,” she choked. “I’m not going to tell you that I don’t like it.”
Beneath her, Tara felt Logan’s whole body relax. Did her feelings really matter to him?
Gently, he glided his palm down her spine, over her warmed ass, as he pressed a soft kiss between her shoulder blades. She had to remind herself that his tenderness was a lie.
“Thank you for your honesty,” he said softly. “I know that was difficult for you.”
Very. And she didn’t want to give him anymore ammunition, so she said nothing.
Logan stroked a hand down her hair, then cradled her head in his palm with one hand. With the other, he started raining down a series of blows again.
“Keep counting, baby,” he crooned.
“Eleven, twelve, thirteen . . .” The numbers poured out automatically, but the rest of her body was anything but machinelike. The fire spreading over her skin became a blaze burning through her blood. As her body revved up, her brain shut down. And the pain dazzled. It stripped her bravado, her barriers, until it poured into her very soul—then back out again. The hurts that had bruised her heart, both now and then, welled up and swirled together with the inferno of her backside to break her apart. Tears pooled, overflowed, slid down her cheeks.
She should be pissed, fighting and screaming being treated like a naughty child. Instead, she murmured “twenty” and prayed like hell that he wouldn’t leave her like this, alone, aching for release, and spread wide open emotionally. He’d driven her to a place so frighteningly personal.
“Good.” Logan lifted her to face him. He searched her watery eyes and teary face, then yanked her against his chest. “Cherry . . .”