Stormy Night Publications Publishers of BDSM and Kink Erotica
Laurel
He’s a beautiful monster. An infamous enforcer who takes my breath away with one look.
I should’ve known better than to play this dangerous game with him, but he’s caught me and I can’t stop the shameful retribution I have coming.
No part of me is safe with him, but there’s no escape.
Trick
The law wants me in jail. My enemies want me dead. And now someone’s found just the right weapon to use against me… the gorgeous girl who is meant to be mine.
She thought she could get away with bluffing, but she has a rough, painful lesson to learn.
I’m all in, and she’s the prize.
Author: Marlee Wray
eBook Price: $4.95/Kindle Unlimited
Length: 90,000 words
Excerpt
“Who sent you to the game?”
I swallow. I don’t think the truth will make him more lenient with his damn paddle. I think it’s likely to piss him off more, so I shake my head. If he’s going to hurt me either way, why should I tell him anything?
Trick slaps my ass a few times with his hand. I jerk each time, not from the stinging, but because each slap startles me. The warmth and sting don’t really hurt; in fact they heighten my awareness of him.
“Your ass is fantastic,” he says. “Too bad the circumstances call for me to punish you. This could’ve been a different kind of spanking.”
I stare at a point on the bedspread, trying to stay calm, trying to detach myself from what’s happening. “What other kind is there?”
He squeezes my ass. “One that’s foreplay.”
Something deep and sensual clenches inside me, and I remember how bottomless my crush was. Back then, he hinted at dark sexual fantasies. I hinted back I was game to let him experiment with me. I was so attracted, and he was a mystery I desperately wanted to unravel. If I’m being honest, I’d still like to. It’s probably why I went ahead with drugging his drink. The sedative was my one chance to scratch through Scott Patrick’s enigmatic surface.
“How long have you been doing this sort of thing?” I ask.
“Long time. Who set me up?” he counters.
I purse my lips, trying to muster my anger that I’m in such a vulnerable position. He wouldn’t have stripped a man and made him lie over a foam wedge with his ass in the air to be paddled like a naughty schoolgirl. I’m lucky things ended when they did.
A hard smack of the paddle shocks me. I stiffen. The sting reverberates through me. That wasn’t cute or sweet or sexy. Then another, harder still. I groan in pain and try to jerk sideways off the wedge, but his hand on my back and the taut chains keep me in position.
My voice is sharp. “That’s enough.”
Then the paddle swings down quickly, one, two, three, four. I’m breathless from the hard cracks that send shockwaves of pain through my muscles. The blows continue, rattling my bones and driving the air from my lungs.
Fighting the restraints doesn’t help me escape; it only causes the t-shirt to ride up higher so my breasts are partially exposed.
Kicking my legs against the mattress as the paddle falls again and again, I struggle. The blows flatten my flesh momentarily until it springs back, reverberating with pain and heat. Warmth blossoms in my ass and then seeps lower, making me squirm as an ache develops deep in my core.
“Stop!”
Trick doesn’t relent, or even pause. If anything, the strokes get harder. I clench and groan at the merciless paddling he gives my defenseless ass, covering the whole surface until it’s on fire.
Tears sting and fill my eyes. “Please. I can’t—please!”
He pauses, and I collapse against the bolster and mattress, wretched tears spilling. A cool palm rests against my wounded ass and squeezes firmly. I jerk, cursing him and then crying harder.
“I want the name, little girl.”
