Free Sylvia Day - [Georgian 01] by Ask For It Page A

after you. I’ll—”
    “You won’t be able to walk,” he scoffed.
    He reached for her boots and she lashed out at him, kicking with all her might. She screamed at the sudden sharp sting to her arse. The first spank was quickly followed by several more, each drop of his hand burning more than the last until she buried her face in the counterpane and cried with the pain of it. Only when she stopped flailing, and took the abuse without movement did he cease.
    “Your father should have taken you over his knee long ago,” he muttered.
    “I hate you!” She turned her head to look at him, but couldn’t reach around far enough.
    Marcus’s sigh was loud and resigned. “You protest too much, love. You will thank me eventually. I’ve given you the freedom to enjoy me. You can fight all you want and still get what you desire. All the pleasure and none of the guilt.”
    His hands cupped the flaming curves of her derriere and stroked gently, soothingly. The gentleness of his touch aroused her, the contrast startling after his previous treatment. “So beautiful. So soft and perfect.” His voice deepened, became cajoling. “Let yourself go, sweet. If you must be forced, why not relish the experience?”
    When his hands moved lower to the hem of her chemise and then slipped under it, she moaned in anticipation, her skin prickling with goosebumps at the feel of bare skin on bare skin. Her blood heated, her anger melting into something intoxicating as his thumbs moved higher, massaging either side of her lower back. Deep inside, her body softened at his skillful touch. The feel of air directly on her burning flesh coaxed a whimper of relief from her.
    “You would fight me to the death, my stubborn temptress, if you were able, but tied up for my needs brings unexpected rewards, does it not?” He rolled her to her back before gripping her shoulders and pulling her into a seated position.
    Elizabeth bit her lower lip to hide the pout of disappointment she felt at the unwanted distance between them. Her nipples ached, peaked hard and tight, eager for the pinch of his fingers to ease their torment. Marcus’s dark green gaze narrowed on her flushed face. There was no tenderness, no sign of possible mercy, just stark intent and she knew he would not be swayed. Her stomach flipped as moisture pooled between her thighs at her helplessness.
    He assisted her to her feet and moved her to the nearby chair whose wooden arms curved so beautifully. Pressing her down to the seat, he then tugged his shirt from his breeches, before pulling it over his head.
    Elizabeth stared, arrested by his virility which was displayed so beautifully by rippling muscles beneath golden skin. His left shoulder was marred by a circular scar left by a bullet and silver ribbons on his flesh betrayed nicks from the sharp edge of a sword. As magnificent as he was, the sight of his past injuries reminded her that he was not meant for her. Even as her blood heated, her heart chilled.
    “The agency has left its mark on you,” she said snidely. “It’s revolting.”
    Marcus arched a dark brow. “That explains why you cannot take your eyes from me then.”
    Peeved, she forced herself to look away.
    He crouched before her and cupped the backs of her knees, spreading her legs wide and hooking them over the carved arms of the chair. Her face heated in embarrassment as the damp lips of her sex were opened to his view. “Close the curtains.”
    Frowning, he stared at the apex of her thighs. “God, no.” He brushed across her curls with his fingers. “Why would you wish to hide this? It’s heaven you hold here. A sight I’ve longed to see for far too long.”
    “Please.” She squeezed her eyelids tightly together, her body tense and then trembling.
    “Elizabeth. Look at me.”
    Tears accompanied the lifting of her lids.
    “Why are you so frightened? You know I would never hurt you.”
    “You leave me nothing, you take everything.”
    He ran a blunt fingertip