Kings of Anarchy (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #3) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,66

it and I wasn't strong enough to even attempt to stop this shift in dynamic between us.

I spanked her four more times, sweat breaking out across my brow as the pain in my ribs flared to a burn at the effort and finally stumbling away from her, gripping onto the back of the chair she'd been sitting in as I took a moment to let the agony pass.

"Saint," Tatum gasped as she stood upright, tugging her jeans back up and found me there probably looking like death warmed up. "You shouldn’t have done that if you're not strong enough to-"

"I'm more than strong enough to spank you, Tatum, don't go telling me I'm not or I'll be forced to prove it again," I hissed between clenched teeth. I wouldn't admit that the reason I was speaking so quietly was because inhaling any deeper would cause spots of light to blossom across my vision from the pain.

"You need to take it easy," she insisted, reaching out to cup my cheek in her palm and though I'd never admit it, I liked that. I liked having her undivided attention on me. It was the one thing about this insufferable recovery that made it bearable. "It's almost two, you need to take your pills."

"They're due at two not at almost two and I'm still not done with punishing you," I said, my voice low even as I allowed her to tow me towards the stairs which led up to my room.

Tatum fell still as she made it onto the bottom step and the boost to her height almost put her on eye level with me. That minute shift in the power between us made me want to punish her even more. I wanted her kneeling at my feet, not looking me in the eye.

"What else do you have to punish me for?" she breathed, her eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and what I could have sworn was excitement.

I moved closer to her, so close that our lips were almost touching and the sweet scent of her skin enveloped me. Barely a breath divided us and my treacherous mind went to her rules which were still stuck to the fridge - even though it seemed like I was the only one who took them seriously these days. But I knew them by heart. And I knew that she'd gotten rid of the rule which stopped me from closing this distance between us, from tasting those lips of hers and testing out how far she was willing to dive into this unhealthy obsession of mine.

Because it was unhealthy. Not for me, but certainly for her. If she had any comprehension of the way I felt about her, I had no doubt she'd run screaming for the hills. Her stalker had nothing on me. I watched her every move, dissected every comment. I wanted to peel apart her skin and slip inside it and feel every inch of what it was to be her.

That was why I watched her with the others and forced myself to endure the torture of it. Though it ripped me apart with jealousy, I hungered to experience the pleasure she got from them. I needed to see the way her pupils dilated and her breaths grew shallow, I needed to study the arch of her spine and the pitch of her moans. I needed to experience all of her in every moment from her lowest to the highest. I needed to taste her grief and bathe in her joy, suffer in her pain and come apart in her pleasure.

If I ever crossed this line that had been drawn between us, I knew I'd lose control. I'd take every human experience from her, mind, body and soul and devour each and every one of them until she was consumed by me. It was how I was made. To dominate, control, destroy. And I didn't want to destroy her. I wanted to watch her bloom.

"Where are the missing rolls of toilet paper?" I asked her in a low and dangerous voice, my desire for her making me angry, the hard press of my cock growing in my sweatpants at the mere thought of her submitting to whatever I wanted to do to her.

Tatum sucked in a sharp breath and I waited to see if she would lie to me. Heaven help her if she did. But the fucked up, monstrous part of me was hoping for it so that I could