I can’t draw a full breath. My mind can’t think past his voice crooning in my ear, promising all kinds of sexual wickedness if I follow his orders. I keep my mouth shut. I can’t un-hear what he said downstairs. His double standard is pissing me off. Why the hell should I agree to say I’m his? I push my ass backward, rolling my hips on the bulge of his rigid cock. There will be hell to pay for my silence.

I’ll enjoy it either way.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, is it?” Tate’s displeasure pours through his tone. I’m hot from head to toe and goosebumps are prickling across my flesh. “You just had to make it hard for yourself. Fine. Have it your way, little hellcat. I’ll teach you exactly who owns you.”

His voice is deep and dangerous, low in his throat as he runs his fingers down the front of my body, all the way down until he stops at my mound. Heat and need spread through my system, and I part my legs a little when his fingertips start to circle my clit through my yoga pants. Then he lets go of me and exits the room. I turn and sit on the bed, asking myself whether he plans to come back at all, or if his leaving is part of his punishment. I want to know how far he’ll take this, given that I have to be at work soon.

But don’t get very long to question his intentions. He returns and slams the door shut. The way his arm is behind his back, I know he has something hidden.

Tate comes to me and stands between my legs. “I want you in that bed. On your hands and knees. Now.”

I hear some sort of clinking metal. As I crawl into bed and get into position across the width of the mattress, I try to guess what it is from the sound. Even not knowing has me aroused. My clit is throbbing, my panties are soaked, my nipples are sensitive against my tank top, and every small sensation seems magnified from just anticipation.

That and the crazy chemistry between us.

He mutters something that I can’t hear and stands behind me. “If you know what’s good for you, doll, you’ll do exactly as I say. I’m not above making you scream for the whole clubhouse to hear. Don’t move from that spot until I’m done with you.”

It’s heaven and hell rolled up into one, keeping myself in place while I let him have every bit of control over my body. He knows how much I enjoy this type of play. Except I’m out of my element, not knowing what toy he’s brought out while in a room I’ve never been in before. Given his mood. It’ll hurt. I hope it hurts.

He slaps my ass with his open palm a few times. I feel the movement of air as he turns away from the bed. Glancing around, I look over at him.

“I saw that,” he barks. “That’s strike one. Three strikes and you don’t get to cum at all tonight.”

My ass cheek still burns from his spanking, which I know isn’t even close to full power. That sting from his palm against my ass causes me to angle my hips to find a comfortable position, but that won’t happen, not now that he wants me off center and uncomfortable.

“Fuck, yes. It’s time to make you say it,” he says, sounding gleeful.

Anticipation causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I bite down on my bottom lip, curious as he makes me wait, listening attentively through the tense silence. Finally, the mattress lowers from the weight of his body as he presses his knees on either side of my legs. I swallow the hint of my fear as his hands graze over the sides of my waist. He grips the waistband of my pants and drags it down to my knees taking my panties with it. Cold air hits my skin and licks me in intimate places. I fight the urge to squirm beneath his heated gaze. He can see everything, including my obvious arousal.

He parts my legs wide, hovering a violet wand a couple of feet from my head for me to see. I want to scream. I want to frantically resist the electric jolt he threatens to deliver on my sensitive flesh. And I also want to feel the sting of pain. God, how I want it, but it seems like Tate is all threat and no follow-through tonight. I open my mouth to beg him to please just do what we always do. I need our routine, but as I turn and meet his eyes, I know that won’t happen. It’s right there on his face. He has no plans to get into our usual play, and he probably won’t until this Jett scare is over. I’m mildly annoyed that he’s playing it safe. He’s soft and tame, using the threat of everything we’re used to doing without actually doing it.

I’m beside myself with need, slick and longing for him, my skin blazing with heat and desire, my whole body awake and alive.

“Please,” I beg as he moves the wand away without using it.

“You’ll open your mouth for that, but not to tell me what I told you to say?” Tate tugs on the cord of the wand, nudging the prongs out of the electrical socket. He trails the powerless device along my skin, and I moan. There’s no pain, but I’m so desperate for his touch that my senses are heightened all over me. He uses the wand to circle the handprint on my right ass cheek from his spanking. I lower my torso to the bed and tilt my hips, raising my ass higher for more of his touch.

“Say it,” he demands. “Say it if you want me to bury my cock into your tight, wet pussy and take you the way you like it. Or not. Your choice.”

I whimper a sound, but I don’t say what he wants to hear. I shouldn’t resist. But it’s what we do. As I lie there with the comforter rubbing my sensitive nipples through my bra, I know I’m extending the inevitable, making every second total agony. There’s also the chance that he’ll stop altogether if we run out of time. I just can’t say it yet.

His fingers slide along my lower back, drawing me away from my thoughts as they glide along my waistline. As they pass the hem at my stomach, he pulls me ass back. I feel his free, full, thick cock at my upper thigh. Tate lifts my tank top past my breasts, unhooks my bra, and cups each beast with rough hands that make my nipples harden to pebbles.

He grinds his cock into my ass cheeks, trailing the tip along my seam in a slow, teasing motion, showing me what I wish he was doing deep inside me. I’m losing my mind, whimpering and writhing on the bed beneath him. The words are on my lips. I just can’t form the sound to get them out.

Tate snatches a handful of my hair. “Tell me what I want to hear, or this goes away,” he taunts me, his hot breath tickling my neck. “Just. Two. Little. Words.”

My body bows and bucks beneath him, silently screaming out for an orgasm. He teases one nipple, twisting it as his cock dips between my inner thighs, testing my resolve without giving me what I want. The sharp sting of almost-but-not-really-there contact takes me close to the edge. Close, but not close enough.

“Please,” I whisper through the ache.

Tate jerks my head back slightly, still holding a thick handful of my hair in his fist. “That sounds like strike two.”

I’m so close. One thrust of his cock into me will probably send me over the edge. Which the bastard knows already. Tate releases my hair and slaps my ass cheek again—harder than the last time. And again. And again. I’m beside myself and no longer know up from down. My need flares from the sweet, painful heat that has me gasping for air and so fucking close.

“Say it…” his coaxing makes me groan. Still, no words come out of my lips. “I can make it worse for you.”

He can. Of that, I’m sure.