“Angry is a fucking understatement,” Lucas said, his teeth snapping together near my ear. My heart was pattering like a rabbit facing down wolves — a very foolish rabbit who’d walked right into their den and lingered long enough to be caught.

Although I tried to sound brave, I doubt it worked. I took a deep breath and said, “I can take it.”

Manson’s mouth twitched as he narrowed his eyes at me. “You can take it? What exactly do you think you’re taking right now? We’re pretty damn calm, considering what we’re looking at, Jess. If we were to truly show you anger, you’d change your tune.”

“Then show me,” I said. “Punish me, if that’s what you want to do. I’ll take it. I deserve it.”

Vincent laughed again, but this time, Lucas joined him too. It alarmed me enough that I turned to look at him, standing in the shadows behind me with the lightbulb above him slightly flickering. He was…fuck…

Lucas was smiling.

“Punish you?” he said. “Is that what you want? Does that sound like a fun little game to you? Because this” — he looked around, his smile dangerously tight — “this doesn’t look like a game. This looks like you’ve earned some real fucking consequences.”

“Fine,” I said. I was blustering my way through every word. “I remember my safeword. You can just —”

Manson whirled toward me like a viper, lean body coiled with fury. His dark eyes appeared almost black as he looked down at me.

“I see what you’re doing,” he said, his voice a dangerous hiss. “Do you think that because you have a safeword that we won’t be properly punishing you? Or have you forgotten what it’s like to be over my knee?”

I certainly hadn’t forgotten. Finding myself bent over his lap in the middle of a party had been one of the most defining moments of my life, bizarre as that was. I’d accepted his dare to serve him but had never expected him to offer me a safeword, giving me a safety net in case things got to be too much.

That word gave me the freedom to kick and cry over his lap with complete abandon, knowing I had a way out if I needed it. They wouldn’t cause me harm, but they also wouldn’t make this easy.

I didn’t deserve to have it easy. I wanted to erase my shame, get rid of it as quickly as I possibly could. The only way I knew of to do that was to accept the consequences they wanted to give.

Manson was watching my face, eyes narrowed. It was a sharp and accusatory gaze, searching for any crack in my determination.