Safe in His Arms Read Online Free PDF Page B

stood in the doorway, watching him dress, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
    “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
    He didn’t answer.
    “I just—I don’t know.” She wrapped her arms around herself, huddled up. “I’m sorry, Zac. I’m still really pissed at you. And I just got scared for a minute. Or overwhelmed or something.”
    He didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t owe him an apology—he owed her one, but words were eluding him.
    “You can spank me now,” she said in a small voice.
    He pulled a shirt over his head, assimilating her 180 without a visible reaction. “Is that how it works?” he asked, meeting her eye coolly, remaining in the role of dominant. “Do you decide when and how you get spanked?”
    She blinked at him. “No, sir.”
    He gave no outward reaction to her use of the word “sir” but it ignited a stampede of triumph within him. He was forgiven.
    “No,” he concurred, showing nothing, sitting on the bed to pull on his socks.
    The sound of a sniffle made him realize with alarm she was crying. He stood and closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her. “Shh, Becca,” he whispered. “It’s all right.”
    “I’m sorry,” she choked.
    “Don’t apologize.” He stroked her hair. “You can trust me, Becca. I promise. I’m on your side.”
    She leaned her full weight against him and he relished the offering. “Are you still going to spank me?” she quavered.
    “Yes,” he answered firmly. “Are you ready?”
    She nodded into his chest.
    “Take off your clothes and stand in the corner.”
    She pulled away and looked up at him, her lips parted in surprise. He gave her a challenging look and watched her turn resolute. She pulled off her t-shirt and skirt and walked to the corner in her bra and underwear. There, facing the wall, she slowly removed them, too. Her breath was short and labored. He went to the bathroom to pick up the phone parts and stow them on the ledge above the door frame. He strapped on his Glock 27, never forgetting his real reason for being there.
    Removing the plastic rod from the drapes, he tossed it on the bed before retrieving her inhaler. Reaching around behind her, he pressed it to her mouth and delivered a dose. When her breath had slowed, he asked, “Are you scared of me, Becca?” He held her shoulders, his lips close to her ear.
    “I-I don’t know,” she answered. “No, I don’t think so. I’m scared—but not about—not about this.”
    He kissed her ear. “Good. Go and bend over the side of the bed.”
    She sucked in her breath and obeyed him, her chin lowered, her forearms covering her breasts as she walked. She bent over and presented her delicious posterior for punishment. Confident this time, he ran his hand over her still-pink flesh, feeling the baby-softness of her skin, the shape of her muscular curves.
    “I’m going to spank you long and hard, Becca,” he said. “And I’m going to spank you to tears, so don’t hold back on me. There’s no safe-wording out of it this time—the spanking will be over when I decide it’s over, and only when I decide. I will make sure you’ve learned your lesson.” Then he added a little neuro-linguistic programming, “Your lungs will stay open and you will be able to breathe normally.”
    She lifted her head, craning it around to try to see his face. He gave her butt a slap. “Yes, Becca. Your lungs can obey me, too. Just believe it, and it will be true.”
    He started to spank with his hand again, and this time she held still for him, making little cries and jumping, but not fighting him. She curled her fingers into the bedspread and hid her face. He spanked steadily for a long time, giving her a thorough warm-up to prevent bruising. He liked the way she twisted and dodged, kicked up her legs in a natural response to the pain, despite the fact it was something she simultaneously craved. He stopped and rubbed her bottom, murmuring, “Good