A rush of heat immediately flared on my chilled flesh, accompanied by a sharp smack. Stinging pain bloomed where he’d struck me, and I shrieked in impotent rage when I noted the rolled-up newspaper in his fist. Humiliation burned my insides, but he didn’t relent. He struck again, ignoring my screams as he hit my bottom with searing swats. The sting morphed into a deep throb, driving the heated pain deeper with each repeated smack. My bottom was on fire, and something terrible thrummed between my legs, echoing the thudding hits.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the awful sensations, my screams dissipating as I struggled for control.

He pushed his hips against my ass, pinning me against the edge of the table. The wood pressed into my clit, and it pulsed madly at the harsh stimulation through the barely-there panties. I felt his erection, but he made no move to free his cock and drive into my vulnerable body. Keeping me trapped in place, he tugged at my hair to forcibly lift my cheek from the table.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

My eyes were wide and a bit wild when they met his, fear thrilling through my system to make my fingers tremble. I pressed them tighter against the table, as though that would be enough to hide my terror from him.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said calmly, as though we were having a normal conversation over breakfast. As though he wasn’t completely devastating me, body and mind. “You’re trying to take back some control by not eating. How long have you been doing this?”

I pressed my lips together, holding back the admission. How had he seen me so clearly?

He ran the paper down my side, tracing the gentle curve of my hip. “You’re thin, little bird. I thought it was because you’re a dancer. But there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

I didn’t reply. My mind whirred. How did he even know that I was a dancer? How much did this monster know about me? He seemed to be looking straight into my soul, as though he knew all my secrets already.

His full lips tugged down in a slight frown, his eyes briefly shuttering as he seemed to focus inward. “I watched my mother waste away like this. I’ll be damned if I let my wife do the same.”

He pushed his hips harder against mine, and I bucked as my clit ground against the table. He let out a low hum and trailed the paper down the length of my spine, sending sparks dancing along it. My body was hypersensitive, fear and pain setting every nerve on edge.

“From now on, I’m going to make sure you eat,” he decreed, delivering a swift swat to my outer thigh.