Page 68 of Balthazar's Fire

She did know, and the way her throat dried at the prospect of him screwing her ass told her everything she needed to know. She craved the idea, but had no clue how she would cope with the reality.

“Balthazar!”

She hadn’t intended to say his name as she reached for him, but the visceral intensity between them was messing with her head, making it impossible to think clearly. She should give in and surrender the way she had in his kitchen, and again that first night by the fire in the townhouse, but for some reason, she grappled to resist. Balthazar was talking about the pretense of punishing her with anal sex. They had to talk about this.

“Don’t push your luck, pet.” Lifting his palm, he delivered one hard swat to her cheek, sending a rush of heat through her system.

“I m-meant, sir,” she stammered. “But why punish me that way?”

“Because you’ll love it.” He smirked, tugging her onto his lap. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“Erm,” she corrected him as respectfully as she could. “I’ve seen your cock, sir. It’ll never fit.”

“It’ll fit,” he chuckled, leaning forward and stealing a kiss. “I’ll be gentle.”

“A gentle punishment?” Her tone was wry, although she didn’t know why she queried him. If he was thinking of shoving his not-insignificant shaft into her backside, then gentle sounded just perfect to her.

“It’s only a punishment in name,” he reassured her. “Because I know you love the idea, although…” his voice trailed away.

“Although?”

“You did drop Sebastian in it yesterday,” he replied. “When you revealed Rebecca’s lousy brother was half-man and half-chimera.”

“Oh yeah.” She giggled nervously as she writhed on his lap. “That was inadvertent.”

“I know.” He ran his tongue over his flawless white teeth. “And so does Seb, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be the ideal excuse to punish you.”

“I see.”

As ever, Cherie loved the way Balthazar thought, although the prospect of having him there was still perturbing. Fidgeting on his thighs, she tried to imagine what it would be like.

“I’m glad you see.” Balthazar brushed his mouth over hers. “But with your consent, I’m going to make you feel.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Balthazar

“Don’t look so nervous.” Balthazar stroked away the loose strands of Cherie’s hair. “I’ve said I’ll be gentle, and I will.”

“I know, sir,” she squeaked. “But it just sounds so… intense.”

“Oh, it is,” he affirmed, conscious of his cock throbbing excitedly at the mention of the idea. “Will you let me show you?”

A line appeared in her brow as she contemplated his offer, and for one protracted period, Balthazar thought she might refuse him. He would never make her do anything she didn’t want to do, and he hoped Cherie knew that, but deep down he sensed something else—that she did want this but like the spanking, she was too afraid to say.

“Where would we…?” Nibbling her bottom lip, she turned away from him as her words dried up.

“Where do you want to?”

“Not here, sir,” she gasped. “There’s too many windows.”

“No one can see us up here,” he reminded her with a smile. “This is probably the remotest house in the country.”

“Some people know it’s here.”

She stiffened, and even though Cherie never stipulated who she was referring to, Balthazar had the distinct impression that it was the asshole Oliver Monroe flitting through her mind.

He had come there.