Free Surrender to Fire: Maison Chronicles, Book 3 by Skylar Kade Page A

any hint of what he was doing. As the moments dragged on, little itches popped up behind her knee, on her shoulder, the back of her neck. She strained to hold still, knowing that whatever punishment he had in store would only be worse if she disobeyed.
    Footsteps muted by the thick carpet, he eventually returned to her side. “What I wouldn’t give to take you over my knee and turn your ass red.” Anxiety curled through her until he continued. “I won’t, because we said no pain and I don’t want to cross that line. I had wicked things planned for you, sweetheart, but those will have to wait.”
    His hand rubbed across her shoulders, down her spine, then up to rub her neck. “Anything hurting?”
    “No, Sir.” The couch and apprehension muffled her voice. “But I do have an itch on my leg that’s awfully distracting.”
    His hands trailed over her ass and south to her feet. “Where?”
    Every inch his hands touched was connected straight to her clit. If her experience so far was any indication, he could probably touch her nose and she’d get turned on, which was fucking ridiculous. “Back of my right knee,” she said, lust and anxiety warring for dominance. Yes, he was gorgeous and he probably deserved a Nobel prize in Devious Fuckery, but that didn’t excuse her lack of control.
    “Better?” he asked, scratching the area.
    Her nod was met with a smack against the back of her thigh. Bastard laughed at her yelp. “Yes, Sir,” she corrected, grateful when he rubbed the area, even though it had been more of a shock than a sting.
    “Good. Now don’t move until I tell you. But feel free to make all kinds of noise.”
    That didn’t sound warm and cuddly. She braced for whatever was coming, which was the only reason she didn’t move when shards of ice stabbed at the middle of her back. “Ah, motherf—” Cam bit her lip, not wanting her mouth to increase this punishment. The cold dulled, then seeped outward. “What the hell is that?”
    “An ice cube.” The obvious joy in his voice almost made her smile until she remembered she was on the suffering end of his happiness. And she’d be a liar if that didn’t turn her on. Twisted minds thought alike.
    Fingers of ice water slid down her spine and bled across her back to spill down her waist. “That wasn’t so bad,” she panted, starting to recover from the initial shock.
    “Only two more, sweetheart.”
    Somehow, she made it through them, with a freezing back and shaking legs and arousal-coated thighs. Dizzy with need, she felt just a little drunk from focusing so hard on holding still, on the slow movement of melting ice on her flesh. Not being bound had made the punishment infinitely harder to take, but she didn’t want to disappoint him, which made all the difference. Failure wasn’t an option.
    He stretched across her back, his hot, naked chest flaming against her skin and his hands wrapping around her wrists. She jerked against him, crying out and waiting for steam to fill the room. He bit down on her earlobe. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
    “Yes, Sir,” she moaned.
    “I can smell your arousal.” His hand slipped between her thighs, slicking across her clit, yanking a gasp from deep in her lungs. He stepped to her side and lifted his fingers to her eye level. “So turned on. So sexy.”
    She watched as he slipped the fingers between his lips, tasting her cream. “Ah, Sir…” Her womb contracted, cutting off all rational thought. She needed him, desperately.
    He cupped the impressive erection barely restrained by his jeans. “Ask for what you need, sweetheart.”
    Her fingers curled into the sofa cushion, but not even that grip on reality grounded her. “You,” she snapped, “I need you.”
    “Insolent wench,” he hissed into her ear, pulling her hair until her neck arched backward. She whimpered, lust drowning out all reason. “You like that, don’t you?”
    The room faded around her until only Damien stood in focus. She