Bryce
Hawk Travers is not a man to be trifled with. I learned that lesson the hard way, first with a painful, humiliating public spanking and then much more shamefully in private. But whether this big, mean former Marine wants to admit it or not, something shady is going on in this town.
Hawk
Bryce Myers came looking for a story. She got a taste of my belt instead. But as satisfying as it is to hear this feisty little reporter scream my name as I put her in her place, I get the feeling she isn’t going to stop snooping around no matter how well-used and sore I leave her cute bottom.
She’s gotten herself in way over her head, but she’s mine now, and I protect what’s mine.
Author: Piper Stone
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$4.95
Length: 77,000 words
Excerpt
I fisted my hands when I finally heard the hard thudding of his boots as he approached. Somehow, I didn’t think he was going to go easy on me. The way he sucked in his breath made me stiffen, my heart racing.
The hard snapping of his wrist echoed in my ears first, the whooshing sound only adding icing on the cake. When the strap landed on my bottom, I bit back a whimper, anticipating blinding pain. There was only a nagging feeling remaining in my stomach, a dull ache surfacing. Pleasantly surprised, I relaxed just a smidgeon.
Until the second, third, and fourth strike came down in rapid succession. I was forced to suck in my breath, my legs shaking involuntarily. Pain shot down the backs of my legs, the sensations like jabs of hot iron.
“Oh. Fuck!” I screeched, pounding my fists against the back of the couch.
“No cursing. You’re the one responsible for this. Take your medicine like a good little girl.”
Good little girl. Really? He obviously didn’t know me or my brash personality. I took nothing lying down, refusing to give into assholes or those who believed they could get one up on me. I’d worked too long and too hard to develop my reputation, a woman determined to get to the truth.
“That’s… painful!” I yelped, kicking my feet even though they were ridiculously tethered.
“Yup.”
The feel of his callused fingers sweeping over my backside was far too intimate. When he tugged at the shirt, jerking it up and around my waist, I hissed at him. “You’re a jerk.”
“And that just cost you an additional five more.”
“No. No!”
“Would you like to try for ten?”
“No. Sir.” Why in God’s name I used a word of respect was beyond me. He certainly didn’t deserve it.
“That’s what I thought,” he chortled. “Stay in position and no more cursing.”
I clamped my eyes shut as he swung the strap again, so damn accurate in his position that I knew I wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for at least two days. I tried to control my breathing as he brought the belt down again, this time catching my upper thighs. I could feel my nails digging into the material of the couch, hoping I would rip holes into the damn thing.
A single moan slipping past my lips, I hung my head, more lightheaded than I was before. “You are mean. Just mean.”
“You have no idea how true that statement is, Little Red Riding Hood,” Hawk half whispered, once again rolling his fingers across my buttocks, caressing in a gentle fashion. When he slid them along my spine, taking his time, I held my breath.
“Bryce,” I managed, struggling with my nerves.
“What?”
“My name is Bryce Myers.” There was no reason for me to tell him, other than I knew he’d have me checked out to the letter. I’d read enough about him to know that to be the case.
“Bryce. I think the name suits you. Reminds me of a very mischievous woman.” His voice was even more gravelly, the tone so husky that I was immediately thrown into imagining the words he’d say out of adoration instead of during a round of discipline.
When he continued the spanking, I was drowning in self-pity, loathing myself for being such a stupid girl. A rush of embarrassment also festered in my system, building with each passing moment much like the desire roaring through me. How could I be wet during the middle of harsh punishment? How could I even think of this as anything but a man being a control freak?
But there was no mistaking the wafting of my pussy juice as it trickled down the insides of my thighs or the way my nipples scraped hard against my lacey bra. I was on fire with a longing I hadn’t felt in years.
Maybe ever.
All because of one rugged Marine.
I lost count as he brought the belt down several more times, alternating between brushing the tips of his fingers across my skin and peppering me with brutal smacks.
There was no denying the connection we shared, one that was so powerful I thought we might combust. Even his ragged breathing was a clear indicator. He was all male in every sense of the word.
As I fell into the lull of being spanked, the pleasure building, I realized I was sagging against the couch, no longer able to feel my legs.
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