Punish me? It’s no use trying to wiggle free. The only thing it's getting me is half naked. All the bumping and jostling has my black tank pushed up to my armpits and my yoga pants easing down.

The dark wood floor of the hallway passes quickly beneath his angry strides. I've no idea where he's taking me, but I'm not giving up without a fight. So, I balance on his shoulder as best I can and reach down his broad back to slip my fingertips beneath his slacks, right to the edge of his briefs. And then... I grip the cotton band and give a yank. Hard. Take that, asshole.

“Goddammit, Rhiannon,” he spits out. I nearly let go when he slaps my ass. The sting is sharp, and he lands another one when I tug with all my might. “What are you fucking five?”

“What are you? A Neanderthal?” Another slap lands before tiles blur as he stalks faster, and then I'm forced to let go when he maneuvers and drops me on the granite countertop of his kitchen.

The air sizzles between us. “What's wrong? The big bad Mafia boss doesn't like wedgies?” I taunt.

I'll admit, I've never been afraid of Xavier until this moment. It's not fiery anger igniting in his blue eyes, it's glacial iciness. Anger I can handle, form a defense against. This cold silence, with his chest rising and falling, scares me.

“Give me your shirt,” he orders.

“What?”

“Do it.”

He removes his suit jacket and tosses it aside. Pick your battles. This isn't one I'm going to win, so I remove my tank and well, I should really listen to myself. Because, I don't place it in his outstretched hand, nope, instead I fling it at his gorgeous face. He's not too happy when he snatches it off his head. Before I can blink an eye, he twists it around my wrists, binding them.

His eyes drop to my lacy black bra before he steps between my legs, bracing his hands beside me. “You're going to regret that, Rhi,” he warns, barely above a whisper. “Bad girls get punished.”

That line coming from his lips, scares me more than what he's become. It does something to my insides, causes a flutter low in my belly. I shouldn't like the way it sounded. Before I can think of a plan, he flips me over and bends my upper body against the counter until my cheek rests against the cool surface. Everything happens so fast. So fast I can't think. A drawer slides open and my pants are yanked down, exposing my ass. Something solid and wooden thwacks my left cheek. Five times. Each harder than the last. My ass is on fire, but I refuse to cry out. He repeats it on the right cheek, then drapes his body against my back. I buck against him. My movements come to a confusing halt when I feel his hard cock press against my bottom.

He whispers in my ear, “Ten more to go. Not so funny now is it?”

As much as I dislike him right now, my body reacts to his hand massaging my cheek. His touch is sensual, caressing the tender skin until the burn subsides.

“Maybe I like it,” I pant out, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of thinking he's winning. But, god help me, he is. I'm wet. The more his large hand strokes, fondles, and squeezes, the wetter I get. These are the fantasies I used to have of Xavier. Fantasies I've fought hard to put behind me. I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't take the pain to experience the pleasure of what he's doing right now.

The weight of his body leaves me, and I grit my teeth through ten more punishing spanks on the opposite cheek.

“Are you done?” I ask, biting back a moan as his fingers erase the pain.

“You have a really nice ass,” he murmurs. “I don't remember it being this nice when you walked away and left me six years ago.”

Why did he have to say that? Memories of an uncorrupted Xavier flood my mind. And then the worst thought enters my brain: what if I can save him from this?

He flips me over and lifts me onto the countertop, then leans in to whisper in my ear. “I'm not done with your punishment yet. Although, this may not be quite a punishment.”

“What do you mean?” My brain formulates another plan, don't fight and maybe I can run.

He slides my pants off and licks his lips. “What do you do in a kitchen?” he asks.

“Cook?” I answer like a nitwit.

He shakes his head and runs his hands up my thighs, creating a frenzy of chills to race along my skin. My breath catches when his thumb strokes along my pussy. “You eat.”