He held me there, bent over the arm of the sofa, until my broken sobs quieted into shuddering breaths. The fire on my skin was no longer a sharp sting but a deep, throbbing ache that seemed to radiate straight to my core. He hadn’t spoken a word since he started, and the silence was somehow more intimidating than any threat.

Finally, his hand, now surprisingly gentle, smoothed over the hot, flushed skin of my ass. A shiver wracked my body at the possessive, almost tender, touch.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice a low, calm rumble.

I obeyed, my movements clumsy, my legs feeling like they might give out....