I catch it. The moment hebreaks.
It’s now—
He yanks me into the shower. Water soaks through the shirt, sucking the fabric to my skin. He rips it off. My pants hit the floor.
He forces my body forward, pressing my chest against the hard, wet wall.
I’m overwhelmed by shock. Fear.
Need.
My palms brace the slick tile, but my body doesn’t move.
He won’tlet me.
His hand is clamped over the side of my face, pressing my cheek flat to the wall. The weight of him behind me, the dominance in every inch of his powerful frame, is terrifying.
“You selfish bitch,” he growls, his voice deep and lethal. “You ignored me. Hours went by, bar after bar, searching for you, and you didn’t think I’d lose my fucking mind?”
“Sorry—” I gasp.
But I don’t try to stop him.
I want to see what he does next.
His palm slams down on my ass, loud, wet, and vicious. The sting blooms fast, biting through the heat of the water.
I jerk, but he doesn’t stop.
Another. Harder. The sound bounces off the tile.
I yelp, knees buckling, but his grip on my face is iron. I can’t fall. I can’t breathe. I’m completely at his mercy.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Each blow lands harder, faster, the rhythm violent. Punishment without mercy.
“Grayson—ow! Please—”
“No. You don’t get to beg yet.”
His voice closes in. Right against my ear. Almost gentle... if not for the venom in every syllable.
“How could you do that to me? You think I’m the kind of man you can ignore?”
Whap!
Another. Another.
I sob, back curling, skin practically blistering under each strike.
He pauses. His hand strokes over the red-hot curve of my ass, assessing the giant welts.
Then he spits.
Directly between my cheeks.
The slick warmth makes me gasp as it runs down and coats both my openings.
