Page 12 of His By Contract
Something darker stirred beneath her defiance, something that made her pulse quicken for reasons she refused to examine. Her skin tingled where his hand connected, each spank sending sparks of sensation that blurred the line between pain and pleasure. She wanted to blame him for this confusion, but couldn’t escape the knowledge that it came from within her.
Another strike fell across Georgia’s backside, the impact sharp and deliberate. Her teeth clenched against the sensation, body tensing but refusing to give voice to her discomfort. Each second of silence felt like a small victory, even as her resolve weakened.
The next impact landed lower, catching the sensitive curve where thigh met her backside. The sensation shot through her like lightning, unexpected and electric. A gasp tore from her throat before she could stop it, the sound hanging in the air between them. The betrayal of her own voice crushed what remained of her composure.
Everything froze. Adrian’s hand stilled against her heated skin. The dining room’s shadows pressed in around them as Georgia’s ragged breathing filled the silence. Humiliation crashed over her in waves. That single sound had revealed everything she’d tried to hide: her vulnerability, her response, her inability to remain detached.
His palm smoothed over the spot he’d just struck, the touch lingering longer than necessary. The gentle motion feltmore devastating than any punishment. Her face burned as understanding settled in her chest. He might control this moment, but her body’s surrender was her own shameful secret. She couldn’t even blame him for that.
Georgia’s chest tightened with frustration as reality crashed over her. She wanted to disappear, to erase the last ten minutes from existence.
It was just shock, she told herself. Nothing more than her nerves firing from the impact. The alternative wasn’t something she could face. Not here. Not with him. The lie felt hollow even as she clung to it desperately.
But Adrian’s touch lingered, his palm still pressed against her hip, his other on her rear. The pressure spoke volumes. He knew. Of course he knew. Her reaction had given her away, that single gasp hanging between them like evidence of a crime. She couldn’t hide from him, not physically, not emotionally.
The silence stretched, wrapping around her throat like a noose. Each second tightened its grip on her defiance, squeezing until breathing became a conscious effort. She felt exposed in ways that went beyond the physical, as if he could see every conflicted thought, every confused emotion.
His hands fell away, the sudden absence of contact leaving her cold. The dismissal cut far deeper than any punishment. He didn’t even need to speak to remind her of her place. She was nothing more than a contract, a transaction, a problem to be corrected and then dismissed.
Her skin tingled where he’d struck her, mind spinning as she processed what had happened. What it meant. What she’drevealed. The confusion left her feeling hollow and lost, adrift in this new reality she’d signed herself into.
Georgia pushed herself up on unsteady legs, but standing only intensified the fire across her backside. The cotton of her dress brushed against raw skin, each movement echoing the sting of her punishment. She fought to keep her expression neutral, to not let him see how deeply this had affected her.
Adrian sat unmoved, not a hair out of place. His composure remained perfect, as if he hadn’t just turned her world upside down. The chair grated against the floor as he stood, looming over her like a shadow stretching at dusk. She hated how small he made her feel, not just physically, but in every way that mattered.
“You will think twice before disobeying me next time.” His voice carried the weight of certainty.
His hand gestured toward the table, casual as if they’d merely paused for a brief interruption. “Eat your dinner.”
Georgia’s legs shook as she stared at her abandoned chair. The crystal glasses caught her reflection: flushed cheeks, wild eyes, dress wrinkled from her position across Adrian’s lap. Her stomach clenched at the memory, fresh heat crawling up her neck. She hardly recognized herself in that reflection; the woman staring back seemed fragile and confused, nothing like the strong designer she’d once been.
The dining room stretched like a battlefield. Each step back to her seat sent sparks of awareness through her body, her dress sliding against tender skin. Her thighs pressed together, trying to contain the lingering sensations that refused to fade. The distance to her chair seemed impossibly far.
Adrian saturated the room like smoke, seeping into every corner. His authority radiated from every calculated breath, every subtle shift of his shoulders as he waited for her compliance. The weight of his expectation pressed down on her, leaving no choice but to obey.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as she approached her chair. The rhythm felt too fast, too revealing. Each beat exposed her vulnerability, her body’s treacherous response to his discipline. She wondered if he could hear it, if that too betrayed her inner turmoil.
The chair loomed before her like a challenge. Georgia gripped the back, knuckles white against the dark wood. Pride demanded she sit without hesitation, but her muscles wanted to lock, anticipating the contact. She hesitated just a moment too long, revealing her uncertainty.
She lowered herself slowly, teeth clenching as her weight settled onto the hard surface. Fresh fire bloomed across her skin, sharp and immediate. Her fingers clutched the table’s edge, seeking stability as sensation rippled through her core. The simple act of sitting became an exercise in control, in not revealing how much her backside stung on the hard surface.
Adrian’s gaze brushed over her, brief but knowing. He didn’t need to speak. The glint in his eyes and the subtle curve of his lips said it all. He knew exactly how she felt, and he was more than satisfied.
Blood rushed to Georgia’s face as shame crashed over her. Not just from the punishment, or her position, or even his obvious pleasure at her discomfort. No, what burned hottest was the memory of how her body had responded: the heat that had pooled low in her stomach, the way each strike hadsent electricity through her veins. The confusion left her feeling adrift, uncertain of herself in ways she’d never experienced before.
The untouched food mocked Georgia from her plate. Each breath felt shallow in the suffocating silence of the dining room. Adrian sliced his steak into perfect squares, studying his food with the same cool detachment he might give a business contract, as if he hadn’t just turned her world inside out. The casual dismissal stung almost as much as the discipline itself.
That struck deeper than any punishment could. For Adrian, this was simply procedure. A clause in their contract, executed with the same efficiency he applied to everything else. While her world had tilted on its axis, his remained perfectly balanced and controlled.
Heat crawled up her neck as she shifted in her chair, the ache across her backside impossible to ignore. She expected anger to rise, wanted the familiar comfort of defiance to give her strength. Instead, something else settled in her chest, a steadiness she didn’t want to examine too closely. Something had changed within her, shifted in ways she couldn’t yet understand.
The memory of his hand on her hip, the way he’d held her in place without effort, played through her mind in vivid detail. He hadn’t needed to fight for control; she’d yielded it to him, her body betraying her with each calculated strike. The realization left her feeling hollow yet strangely centered.
Shame continued to burn hot beneath her skin, from how her pulse had quickened under his touch. How part of her had responded to his authority in ways she couldn’t explain away. How could she hate this situation, yet respond to it so viscerally?
The silence stretched between them like a physical thing. Adrian took another bite, his movements unhurried. No smirk, no taunting remarks, just the weight of unspoken understanding pressing down on her shoulders. His confidence was absolute; he didn’t need to gloat over his victory.
Words built in her throat, demanding release. The need to confront him, to force him to acknowledge what happened, clawed at her chest. But speaking would mean giving him more power. The words died unspoken as she realized there was nothing she could say that wouldn’t reveal too much of herself.
