Nash: A Rough Romance by Piper Stone (book series for 12 year olds txt) 📕

ripping down my panties with ease. The way the air hit my still aching bottom was more embarrassing than before. Why? He’d already seen every inch of me.

I flailed, undulating and tossing my arm back.

“You are such a little brat. Jesus Christ. I probably need to tie you to the bed just to keep you from acting out.”

“Don’t you dare!”

He laughed in his usual throaty manner as he swung his leg over mine, pinning me down. “This might be a little awkward, but I think a few strikes of my belt will do you some good.”

When he leaned over, grabbing the strap from the table, I managed to elbow him in the gut. “You’re not my keeper.”

“I am for now and that’ll cost ya. It just went from ten lashes to twenty. Do you want to go for any higher?”

I huffed and I puffed, and he brought the belt down not once but twice, the sharp slaps just enough to make me whimper.

“Nah. This isn’t going to have the effect I wanted.” Reaper continued to have a jovial, entirely too sexual husk in his voice as he lifted me with one arm, tossing me against the back of the chair.

I tried to scramble off, but he fisted my hair, leaning over and allowing me to see a grin crossing his face. “Fuck you!”

“None of that, sweetheart. I can be a not so nice guy when I’m pushed. Thought you would have figured that out by now.”

The way he was treating this was insufferable. How dare the man. “Oh, I’ve figured out a lot of things about you.”

He pushed me back over the chair then slid his hand down my spine, tapping on one side of my bottom then the other. “You might as well get used to the fact I will spank you on a regular basis. Seems like that’s the only way you learn. As a reminder. My house. My rules. You enjoy breaking them.”

I was profoundly befuddled by his bold actions, suddenly losing the ability to fight him. What the hell? I dug my fingers into the edge of the chair, staring out the front window into the darkness. Was I actually going to allow this to continue?

You are a bad girl.

A snarl left my lips. I hated my inner voice. I was actually a good girl. I’d followed all the rules my entire life, never stepping outside of them. Well, almost never. This was entirely different.

When he smacked the belt across my sit spot, there was almost no pain. Was he going easy on me, trying to trick me into talking? I shifted my hips back and forth, still loathing the man for putting me in this position. He cracked the damn strap four more times in rapid succession.

This time, I almost ran from the room, the pain more intense than anything I’d ever felt in my life. “Ouch! Jesus!”

“Yep. Just what you needed.” He pressed his hand against the small of my back as I kicked my legs out. Did he honestly think he was going to keep me in position? Not a chance.

Reaper seemed to anticipate what I was going to do, keeping his hand in position then smacking me two more times.

“Oh. Oh!” Anguish tore through me, white-hot heat that managed to sear every nerve ending and muscle. I couldn’t believe how much the belt hurt. My breath was stolen, stars floating in front of my eyes. But there was more. I was wet all over again. This was insane. I couldn’t believe my scent wafted between us. He had to think I was a nutcase. In truth, I was. I’d lost every concept of my rational mind the second I’d seen his face.

Wiggling, the sensations coursing from my arms to my legs were all over the place. I closed my eyes, forcing them aside.

“Please just don’t, Reaper.”

“Are you going to explain why you tried to shoot me?”

“I… can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t? Who is chasing you?” He hesitated, likely counting to five in his mind. “Okay. Let’s continue.”

The asshole didn’t waste any time, slicing the belt across my upper thighs twice then returning to my aching bottom. If this was just some kind of game initiated by Giordani, he was certainly playing the part, but my instinct told me he wasn’t one of the brutal monsters. My instinct also told me that he was a real hero, yet a man who’d lost himself during the war. I wanted to trust him. I needed to trust him in order to do the right thing. Sadly, I remained gripped with worry and fear, uncertain of what the right thing was.

He seemed to wait to see if I was going to answer before cracking the belt down three additional times. Then he held his fingers dangerously close to my pussy, making me even crazier.

“Just stop. Please? Sir?”

“Then tell me, Michelle. What in the hell will this asshole do if he catches you?”

“Don’t call me Michelle!” I snapped.

“Okay, Mitch. Talk to me. What the hell is he going to do?”

Exasperation mixed with my fear, my need to let my guard down overwhelming. I could see Dante Giordani’s face as if he was standing in the room. And he was leering at me as he had been sitting in the courtroom, his nasty and disgusting thoughts easy to read.

“He’ll kill me. Okay? The bastard will hunt me down and he will kill me, but only after locking me away and doing anything he wants to me.”

The wretched silence was almost deafening. He didn’t believe me. Why should he?

He dropped the belt. I lowered my head, still trying to think clearly. The feel of his hands as he raised my panties and lowered my shirt was even more exciting than before. Yet I’d never felt like such a stupid child in my life. It was as if I needed being taken care of. Maybe I did. Maybe I was tired of trying to do everything by myself.

“You can return to the