In three strides, he grabbed my arms before hauling me across the room. I dug in my heels, pulled against his strength, but in the end he shoved me against the bed. “This is happening, Lex. Bend the fuck over and hold still, or I’ll beat the fight out of you.”

I went limp under the threat. My breasts flamed with the memory of his strikes, as if the wounds were hours old instead of a few days. Even now, each sharp bite of his switch ghosted through me. It hadn’t been a paddle to my ass, a punch to my gut or face, or a slap or bite. He’d lost his mind when he’d wailed on my body with that stick. I bent over the mattress, gripped the bedding, and waited, hoping he’d fuck me instead of beat me.

No warning. He pushed a finger in my ass, and I shrieked from the scorching burn of dry skin forcing entry into my rectum. He splayed one hand on my back, holding me in place while his finger stilled in my hole. “Don’t move.”

“Ow! What are you doing?”

“In a few minutes, you won’t give a shit what I’m doing.” He burrowed his finger in deeper, intensifying the sting. I let out a wail, terrified he was about to rape me anally.

“Please don’t do this!” My voice trembled so badly, the words came out wobbled and unrecognizable. Every spark of my being told me to flee, yet my body wouldn’t jump into motion. He didn’t have to threaten bodily harm—he’d already beaten the fight out of me the other night, when he’d drawn blood with his switch.

“Zach?” His name fell from my lips with uncertainty, an inquiry that sounded far off. A strange heat wave flushed my skin, and my pulse thumped at my throat. A flood of…something washed over me, making my head swim. I couldn’t explain or describe it, but my surroundings held new meaning. Fear evaporated, and things that were previously hidden, like the gold strands in the pattern of the bedspread or the knots in the walls, sprouted in a burst of vibrancy. Like a rosebud unfurling its petals in slow motion. I licked my lips and tasted the air. God. Nothing had ever fired up my taste buds so good.

The pressure in my ass subsided, but I remained sprawled on the bed, held captive by the details burgeoning around me.