“Stop!” I managed to beg. My soul was laid bare, my will stripped away even more ruthlessly than he’d yanked away my modesty.

“I’ll stop when you agree to behave.” His voice had deepened. He sounded calmer, sterner. There was no hint of a growl in his words this time. He’d fully subjugated me, and he had his more volatile emotions back under control.

I knew monsters like him: men who got off on holding power over weaker women.

“You’re a brute,” I hissed, hating him with every fiber of my being.

Three more stinging swats, and my bottom was on fire. I howled and kicked out, my heels banging against the car door. He didn’t relent. Heat flared beneath his calloused palm, thrumming deep into my flesh. It made something ache deep inside me, a strange throb that echoed each slap.

My cry morphed into a mortified gasp. Some part of my mind registered what that feeling was: arousal. My panties grew damp, and my cheeks burned more hotly than my skin beneath his punitive hand.

This couldn’t be happening. My stupid crush on Luca had clearly scrambled my brain, making me react to his touch. It hurt. And it felt good in the most forbidden, cruel way.

The hits stopped, and he rubbed his palm over my enflamed flesh. A sound like a humiliating whimper eased from my throat, and I pressed my face into the seat as though I could hide from him. The scent of leather flooded my senses, but it didn’t quite drown out the smell of my traitorous arousal in the tight space of the car.

Oh, god. We weren’t alone in here. There were two men in the front seats. They might not be looking at me, but they’d witnessed the mortifying scene; they’d heard Luca disciplining me like a child.

Thick fingers skimmed over my stinging skin, and the gentle sensation was almost unbearably decadent after the pain of the spanking. I bit my lip against a groan of relief and turned my cheek farther into the seat, wishing I could melt away into nothing.

“We could get along, Elenora.” This time, there was a deep rumble of satisfaction in Luca’s voice.

His fingers dipped between my legs, the barest brush against my wet underwear. I couldn’t help myself; I bucked against his hand, too shocked and confused to control my body. He’d taken control of my entire being, and I felt like I was spiraling into a black abyss. I clung on to sanity by a thread.

“Please,” I begged. “Stop.”

“Are you going to behave?” he asked, voice deep and dark with warning.

“Yes,” I squeaked, swallowing a sob. I wouldn’t cry. Not for him. If I stopped resisting, he couldn’t break me completely. I would comply with his insane demands. It was the only way I could survive this day with some of my dignity intact.

Drawing on years of practice, I shoved my emotions down deep, crushing my pain, humiliation, and fury into a tight little ball and burying it in the pit of my stomach. I drew in a deep breath and softened in his unyielding hold.