Page 39 of Balthazar's Fire

Her tone spoke of defiance, but her beading nipples and flustered appearance conveyed a woman who was fascinated by the idea of his spanking but too embarrassed to say so.

Lowering her gaze, her hands came together, her digits threading between each other.

“If it’s what we agree to,” he admitted. Clasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted her chin and insisted her gaze met his again. “I hope you know I would never do anything to you against your will, Cherie.”

“Yes.” Her voice was hardly even a whisper. “I know, sir.”

“Good.” His thumb caressed her skin as he spoke. “But equally, if you want to submit, then you need to understand there are consequences for your actions.”

“My actions?”

He noted how she didn’t draw away from his fingers.

“We never even spoke about consequences before, sir. I had no idea.”

“And I understand and acknowledge that,” he replied. “If I spank you now, it would only be to give you a taste of what life could be like if you agreed to stay as my submissive.”

“I…” Her eyes fluttered closed as she struggled for what to say. “I don’t know what to think. This is all happening so fast.”

“Yes,” he concurred. “I realize.”

Balthazar could barely believe it himself. Only a few days ago he’d never even heard of Cherie Flynn, but now her welfare and happiness had become integral to his peace of mind. He’d heard colloquialisms about how falling in love hit people hard and fast, but he would never have dreamed it was possible until now.

“Listen, I’m not going to force you into anything,” he reiterated. “I’m not like him…” Tension furled in his chest as an image of Oliver Monroe exploded in his mind.

“I know,” she reassured him, reaching for his free hand and squeezing it. “I know you never would, it’s just that I’d never even thought about being spanked and—”

“And you hate the idea,” he interrupted, determined to handle the disappointment with grace.

If physical punishment wasn’t Cherie’s particular cup of tea, then that was fine. He would deal with it and move on. She’d already shown an inclination for other types of submission and had responded beautifully to his prompts for compliance. He would find other wonderful ways to dominate her.

“No,” she replied, though he noted how her brow creased with the response. “I don’t hate it, sir; I just…” She rolled back her shoulders as though she was steeling herself for whatever was to come. “I’ve never put that much trust in anyone before.”

“But could you?” he pressed, sensing that the spanking might be a path Cherie wanted to walk down, but was only too afraid to try. “Would you want to?”

The question hung in the air between them.

“I think,” her voice wavered as his fingers tightened. “I want to with you.”

Chapter Fourteen

Cherie

How did this happen?

One moment, Cherie had been demolishing the delicious croissants that Balthazar had warmed for her, and the next, she was somehow agreeing that he spank her? Tensing at the acknowledgement, she noticed how her pussy clenched at the prospect. The idea of being sprawled over Balthazar’s lap and submitting to a physical penance at his hand was far more tempting than it had a right to be.

“Do you mean it?” Balthazar’s voice had taken on that smooth liquor-like quality again, the kind that she knew could lead her straight into hell with a smile on her face. “I don’t want to coerce you into anything, beautiful, and honestly, there are plenty of other ways we can play.”

His wink sent a rush of heat through her body, culminating at her core and seeping south to soften her sex. Cherie had wanted him last night, but that was nothing compared to the surge of need she experienced then. Balthazar could give her everything she’d ever wanted. It was all right there for the taking.

“I mean it.” Her voice was hardly even a whisper. “But it’s scary, sir.” Her heart raced as she contemplated the hundreds of possible scenarios that could play out. “How will I know if I like it, how will you know, and how will you know when enough is enough?”

“Hey.” Releasing his hold on her hair, he slipped from the stool and stood before her. “I’ll know because we’ll communicate. You’ll have a safe word, and I’ll always respect it.”

“Yes.” It made sense when he put it that way. Balthazar had proven how considerate he could be, while still giving her the time of her life. She had no reasons to doubt him. “I know.”

“It’s about trust,” he went on, nudging her knees apart and moving between her thighs. “And that takes time. That’s why I wouldn’t do anything extreme at first.”