stepped away. Discreetly, Morgan tried to pull at her wrist.
It was securely bound.
Before she could do more than begin to reel with the implications of that, Jack made
his way to the other side of the bed, captured her right wrist, and repeated the process.
Both of her arms were immobilized, tightly but not uncomfortably tethered to the
posts of the headboard. She gave a gentle tug, then a not-so-gentle one. Nothing. The
bonds didn’t give so much as an inch. He must have been one hell of a Boy Scout, since
those knots were perfect.
Panic rushed her like a wave from a tsunami. Oh, no. She was in over her head. Way
over. Jack was…more. More man, more disciplined resolve, more iron control than she
was ready for.
She struggled, pulling at her bonds with a frightened whimper. God, what had she
been thinking? It was one thing to fantasize about giving a man utter control of her body.
It was another completely to actually do it, even if she did trust him with her physical
safety. How well did she actually know him?
But her bonds weren’t budging.
When she cried out again, Jack gentled her with a soft touch, curling his palm around
the back of her head.
“Morgan, take a deep breath.” He waited until she did, then whispered in a quiet,
hypnotic voice. “You’re safe. You’re fine. I’ve got you.”
The calm in his voice reached deep inside her. His tone asked her to be reasonable,
not to panic. For a reason her logical mind could not fathom, that soothed her. She
heeded his voice and stilled.
In reward, he smoothed his palm down the exposed length of her back. “Submission
is about trust, Morgan. You trusting me not only to keep you safe, but to give you
everything you want, every pleasure you imagine. I can grant you those things, but not
without your help. The pleasure comes, in part, from giving up total control.”
Suddenly, the caress at the small of her back was gone. Moments later, he replaced it
with a sharp thwack on her ass.
Startled by his action, Morgan bucked against her bonds. “Ouch! Stop it.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than a peculiar stinging began to prickle
her skin. It created a fire that lingered where he’d spanked her.
“You’re not in control, Morgan. Your body is mine to pleasure or punish as I see fit.
Right now, you’ve more than earned a punishment.”
She’d barely recovered from her surprise when he spanked her again, this time
hitting the other cheek with an equal amount of force. Morgan bit her lip as the initial
sting assailed her. Then, as before, the nip of pain gave way to the unexpected heat that
spread across her ass.
“There are surprises. That’s intended. I will do things you don’t always understand or
think you want. Or agree with. What’s important is that you trust that I know your body
and your limits, and that you comply. Because you have trust in me, in my ability to get
past your mental barriers to give you the pleasure your body craves.”
He smacked her again, a healthy slap for each cheek.
Morgan gasped. “Go to hell.”
The rumble of Jack’s laughter sounded behind her. “You’re just digging yourself a
deeper hole, cher.”
He smoothed a calloused palm over the tingling flesh of her ass. The heat of his skin
seeped in, mixing with the burn on her bottom, to create a fire that nearly had her
moaning. How could she like it? Why should she? It made no sense.
“You can’t experience what you want until you learn to give yourself over to me.
Completely,” he whispered in her ear.
Mentally, she railed against his words, even as she realized her vagina was completely
wet.
No, no, no! He was spanking her like a wayward child. She didn’t like it. Really.
But the pain… it was becoming pleasure, thick and throbbing and impossible to
ignore.
Morgan shifted, trying to avoid his hand. No such luck. Two more smacks, one for
each cheek, both with more vigor than the others. She managed a snarl of outrage, but
that didn’t stop the spread of fire from bursting across her skin.
Throbbing heat. Bone-deep want. Oh my God… Her flesh began to ache. Morgan felt
blood dancing just under her skin, engorging her clit.
Fighting was useless.
“Do you understand?”
That voice, like a sexual drill instructor. Every word was wrapped in steel, but beneath
that, she heard the taunting promise of what could be, the velvet promise of ecstasy.
Fresh heat crawled across her flesh, swelled her clit, strangled her protests. Her body
demanded more.
“Yes, sir.”
“Much better,” he praised.
Only then did Morgan realize she was actually lifting her ass to his hand, anticipating