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Penance: A Dark Bratva Romance by Sassa Daniels

Two years ago she broke my heart. Tonight she will break for me.

When I found out the woman I loved had been sent to spy on me, I was too heartbroken to deal with her myself. But now she’s suddenly back in my life, and it is time she paid for her sins.

She will beg for mercy with tears in her eyes as my belt and my crop lash her quivering bare bottom over and over, but that will be only the start of the shameful penance she has coming.

I am not just going to punish her. I am going to reclaim her so ruthlessly and savagely that thoughts of owing her loyalty to anyone but me will never even cross her mind from now on.

She is back because she remembered she is mine. I will make sure she never forgets again.

Publisher’s Note: Penance is a stand-alone novel which is the second entry in the Lenkov Dynasty series. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

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Author: Sassa Daniels

eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$4.95

Length: 59,000 words


Inwardly, I groan as he tells me to count each strike of the crop. My mind scrambles with conflicted thoughts as he punishes me. A part of me is angry and humiliated, not to mention feeling sore and sorry I ever laid eyes on Timofey Lenkov. The other part is undeniably turned on by the pain and mortification of being completely bared to him as he lays the crop across my ass, over and over again.

“Meredith,” he says sternly, when I don’t respond to him.

“Yes, sir, I understand.”

Calling him sir comes naturally, but in this situation, I dislike the formality, the distance it creates between us. I want him to get this over with. Then I want him to soothe away the ache of longing that burns within me. I crave closeness with this man, more than ever before. The strength of my desire is bewildering. Two years should have been enough to sever emotional the ties between us, but I realize now that a lifetime wouldn’t be enough.

“Good,” Timofey says, bringing my focus back to the moment.

The crop thwacks down on flesh that’s already tender. I hiss out a breath and grab a fistful of the bedcovers. Either Timofey’s wielding that crop more harshly now or that short break in the spanking has given my brain time to fully wrap itself around what my poor bottom is experiencing.

“One,” I say with a remarkably steady voice.

I brace myself to accept the next blow but when it comes, it still jolts me. My jaw clenches. “Two!” I spit out.

With each impact of that infernal implement, a fresh surge of heat flares through me. Pain twists at my core and somehow morphs into the most delicious pleasure. I count out the next three lashes of the crop, my voice growing hoarse as I cry out the numbers. My bottom is throbbing now, and if I had the luxury of a safe word, I’d contemplate using it. Despite the hurt, the steady thrum of arousal still has my nerves tingling. My pussy is wet and pathetically willing.

How can I want a man who’s thrashing my backside raw?

As I wait for the final smack from the crop, my fingers curl tight around the soft, mushroom-colored comforter on the bed. Ridiculously, I wonder what the thread count of the cotton is.

What does that matter right now?

The crop delivers a brutal sting as it lands for the final time, and I squeal like a pig that’s had its tail pulled. Tears prick my eyes, but I manage to hold them back.

“Six,” I say breathlessly.

Behind me, Timofey murmurs something about a stiff upper lip and I realize I have remained remarkably stoic throughout this punishment. Perhaps I should have screeched and wailed, tried to crawl away, put on a performance for him. If he thinks being cropped was a walk in the park for me, he might see that as a challenge. I don’t want him to resort to harsher measures to teach me a lesson, but I know he’d have picked up on it if I’d tried to act more distressed than I was. The spanking had definitely hurt, but I coped. My natural resilience has got me through some tough times. It will help me deal with whatever Timofey throws at me.

My breath hitches as he grabs me and flips me onto my back, so my legs dangle over the edge of the bed. The mattress may be soft, but my bottom feels like it just landed on solid concrete. My lips twist as pain reverberates through my bruised posterior. There isn’t time to think about how sore I am, though. Timofey lowers his pants and frees his hugely erect cock before I can blink.

Although two years have passed, my body responds to his as it always did. My pussy, wet and ready for him, clenches as he impales me with a savage thrust.

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