Then his panty-soaking, I’m-the-big-bad-wolf grin appeared and she wondered why she’d baited the wild beast inside him.

“Well, it just so happens that I planned on changing our usual f**k-and-suck encounters to something a little . . .” He laughed. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you, sweetheart? Lock the door and strip.”

He hadn’t mentioned her performing a sexy striptease. By the time she’d stripped down to her birthday suit, her entire body shook and her ni**les were pebble-hard.

“Cold?” he said with amusement.

“A little.”

“Come here. I’ll warm you.”

She sauntered forward and stood between his legs so her knees brushed the couch cushions. That was when she noticed the red fabric he held in his hand. Her heart took off at a full gallop.

Before she could ask his intentions, he said, “On your knees.” After she knelt before him, he dangled the red neckerchief in front of her face. “Close your eyes while I blindfold you.”

Harper felt his every exhalation on the top of her head as he wrapped the folded cloth over her eyes and secured it at the back of her head with a knot.

“Can you see anything?”

“No.”

“Good.” Rough hands cradled her face and Bran’s lips connected with hers. This wasn’t the no-holds-barred kiss she’d expected but a leisurely exploration of her mouth. It also served as a subtle warning; this would be the last gentleness she’d see from him for a while.

A tremor of impatience rolled through her. She couldn’t wait to find out what he would come up with.

Bran’s hands gripped her shoulders as he urged her to stand. More caresses. More distracting kisses. More disorientation as he pushed her backward into the kitchen.

“Bran?”

“Right here. I want you to hold on tight once I get you in place.”

In place? What place?

Her hips brushed a solid object and Bran’s hand guided her forward until she was lying flat on a cold surface. The cold jarred her body into a mass of goose bumps, from her cheek, to her ni**les, to her belly.

“Stretch your arms above your head and grab the edge of the table.”

Harper complied, although now her feet were completely off the floor. Questions bounced around inside her brain, but she was having trouble giving voice to any of them.

“Do you have a good grip?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.” Her fingers tightened just in case she wasn’t prepared for whatever he had in store for her.

When the first crack landed across her bu**ocks, she knew. Spanking.

Two more sharp whacks brought her up off the table.

Bran’s hand in the middle of her back pushed her down. His lips were on her ear. “Stay still. Every time you rise up I’ll add to the punishment.”

“How many are you giving me?”

Whack. Whack. “As many as it takes.”

Then Bran really went to work, peppering swats over every inch of her bu**ocks until both cheeks were sunburn hot. He wasn’t using his hand, but a flat object that made a loud crack every time it connected with her flesh.

He didn’t speak. He just spanked her. Repeatedly. In total silence.

A fluttery feeling had taken wing in her belly. She’d begun to anticipate each blow. And after every connection of the flat object against her skin, she experienced a momentary sense of relief. Then she’d tense up again, waiting for the next strike, until the expectation became a sort of sexual déjà vu.

“You like getting your ass smacked,” Bran murmured in her ear. “You should see how pretty it looks, red stripes across the white. Like flower petals.” Then Bran traced the crack of her butt down to the mouth of her sex and pushed a finger inside. “You’re wet.”

She tried to shake her head in denial. She was utterly shocked when Bran painted her lips with the slickness of her juices. “Now do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

“Taste yourself. Lick your lips like you were teasing me yesterday.”

Her tongue darted out and she brought her musky essence into her mouth and swallowed.

“Again,” he said gruffly, applying more proof of her arousal to her lips. When her mouth opened he snuck his finger inside. “Suck it clean. Suck it like it was my cock.”

She did. She even used her teeth.

He emitted the animalistic sound that turned her on beyond measure.

Harper lifted her head, switching to her other cheek. Her chest seemed glued to the table from her sweat. How she could be sweating when she was stark naked in the kitchen in the middle of March boggled her mind.

A rattling noise caught her attention. Again she raised her upper torso and again Bran pushed her back to her belly. The two hard swats that landed on her butt, courtesy of Bran’s strong hands, made her breath stall in her lungs. But her gasp became a scream when her flaming-hot ass was bathed in ice.

“Omigod! Bran! What are you doing?”

He laughed. “Cooling you down after heating you up. This sweet piece of ass is lookin’ a little tender. I’m afraid I might’ve gotten carried away with your punishment, ’cause I was havin’ such a damn good time.” He paused, drawing cold, wet circles on her swollen skin.

The fiery sensation gave way to numbness, except for the icy water dripping everywhere—down her hips, over the roundest section of her cheeks, into the creases of her thighs, down her butt crack, and straight to her pu**y. The drip drip drip tickled, and she squirmed to get it to stop, which earned her another crack on the butt.