“Oh, fuck,” I whispered.

“But feel free to scream if you want. No one will hear you.” He flattened his body against mine, pressing his erection against my hip. “Bad girls who break the rules need to be taught a lesson.”

“What lesson?” My voice trembled.

“Actions have consequences.” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and tightened his fingers at the base of my skull. “And sometimes consequences are painful.”

I winced at the sting on my scalp.

“But they can feel good too.” With his other hand he reached beneath my sweater and unhooked my strapless bra with an easy flick of his fingers. It fell to the floor as he filled his palm with one breast, kneading it gently. My nipples were tingling and tight, and I cried out when he pinched one. “See?”

I wanted to nod, but he was pulling my hair so hard I couldn’t even move my head. The pain was enough to bring tears to my eyes, but then his other hand was under my skirt again, his fingers pushing aside the damp silk of my panties.

With some kind of cop move that made me gasp, he kicked my heels apart so my feet were planted wide. “That’s it. Spread your legs for me like a bad girl should.”

Then his fingers were sliding in and out of me again, and I whimpered as he rubbed slick, hot circles over my clit. My brain was torn between focusing on the pleasure between my legs, the pain on my scalp, and the frustration of being completely at his mercy. I’d never experienced anything like this before, never been treated like a bad girl, a prisoner, a plaything.

Panic hovered at the edges of my mind, but my body responded to his touch, and I moved against his fingers. “Yes. Do it,” he told me. “Come. Right here. Right now. All over my hand.”

My legs began to tingle. My core muscles tightened. Harder and faster, his fingers working me into a tight, hot frenzy until the tension coiled inside me sprung and unspooled in wave after wave of pleasure.

“God, I fucking love your body,” he growled in my ear, finally loosening his grasp on my hair. “I love the way you move. I love the way you taste. I love the way you do exactly what I tell you to.”

I could barely breathe. My legs were ready to give out. My cheek was pushed so hard against the wall I thought I might have a bruise tomorrow.

But I didn’t care.

“Was that my punishment?” I panted.

He laughed, a low, gravelly sound from the back of his throat. “That was just the beginning.”

Immediately I was pulled off the wall, spun around, and bent forward over the kitchen counter. I still couldn’t see a goddamn thing. Why the hell was it so dark in here? I felt like my eyes were closed when they were open.

Noah pressed my head down so my cheek rested on the stone counter. Then he placed a hand on my back. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“If you want me to stop, what will you say?”

“Can’t I just ask you to stop?”

“No, because that turns me on.”

My stomach jumped. “Even if I say please?”

“Especially if you say please.”

A shiver moved up my spine.

“Are you nervous?”

I hesitated. “A little.”

“Good.” He hiked my skirt up to my hips, grabbed my panties, and fucking tore them off. “If you want me to stop, say cinnamon.”

“Okay,” I whispered, imagining the scrap of shredded lace now lying on his kitchen floor.

“Now,” he said. “Are you sorry for what you did last night?”

“No. Ouch!” I cried as his hand spanked my ass so hard I saw stars.

“Try again, Sawyer. Are you sorry?”

I gritted my teeth. “No.”

He delivered a second smack, then held his hand over my hot, stinging flesh. “And now?”

“No.”

That earned me a third spanking. And then a fourth, on the opposite cheek. My eyes filled with tears, but whatever hormones or endorphins were coursing through my body made the pain indistinguishable from the pleasure. I felt like someone else, someone who did bad things and liked it. And he felt like someone else too—a sinister, sexy stranger. A man I didn’t know if I could trust, whose mind went places I’d never imagined, whose voice sounded like one I’d never heard, and whose body could deliver torment or gratification at his whim.

I fucking loved it.

“What were you hoping to see last night, huh?” he whispered. “When you snuck in here, quiet as a mouse.”

“You,” I managed. “I wanted to see you.”

He leaned over me, pressing his body close to mine. He still wore his clothes—as far as I knew—but I could feel his cock pushing against my ass. “Liar.”

It was a lie. I smiled in the dark, my breath hot and heavy and fast.

“I saw you staring at my cock,” he said. “You wanted me to fuck you. Admit it.”

“I wanted you to fuck me.”

His weight lifted from my back, and I could breathe slightly easier. A second later I heard a belt being unbuckled. A zipper descending. “You are such a bad girl.” The tip of his cock swept across my skin. Slid down the crack of my ass. Stroked between my thighs, as if he were guiding it with his hand. “Wicked. Shameless. Filthy dirty.”

He leaned over again and whispered in my ear. “But I can’t resist you, and you know it.”

“Noah.” Desperate to get my hands on him, my arms around him, I tried to straighten up.

He pushed me down again. “No. I’m in charge here. And you’re going to stay right where I want you while I give you exactly what you came for.”

I heard the crackle of a condom wrapper, and five seconds later his cock was sliding into me from behind, both of us moaning at the tight, hot friction.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled. “To make me so hard it hurts? To feel my cock deep inside you? To get fucked like the wicked little thing you really are?”

“Yes,” I whispered as my legs trembled. “Yes, yes, yes . . .”

He went deliciously, agonizingly slow at first, making me feel him inch by inch. He buried himself deep. He used his fingers on me again, rubbing my swollen, sensitive clit while his cock hit some heavenly spot inside me that had my entire body clenching up with unbelievable intensity, until I was on the edge and panicking I might never feel relief—and then gloriously, miraculously, it began to unravel. It was unlike any orgasm I’d ever experienced before—rather than hitting me all at once, it came on slowly, from some place so hidden within me I couldn’t even pinpoint its origin. My entire world went still and sirens went off as my body contracted around his cock over and over again.

When the sirens subsided, which I realized were my own cries of ecstasy, Noah moved fast. He grabbed my hips with both hands and began yanking me backward as he drove in hard and deep. He was rough and relentless, his rasping breaths and rugged growls making him sound more animal than human. I was wet and swollen and sensitive, and every single thrust threatened to tear me apart. Part of me was afraid I’d have to use my safe word and beg for mercy.

But another part of me loved every second, despite the pain. Or maybe because of it. It was beyond belief that I was driving him to this furious, uncontrollable fever pitch. Noah, who’d always been so honorable, so trustworthy, so good. I’d turned him into a slave to his own desire, who had to have me or go mad.