He asked permission to punish her.

She would grant it.

What the hell was wrong with her? And how could she explain it when she didn’t understand it?

“I—yes.” Her quiet response echoed as if shouted from a mountain top.

“What a puzzle you are, Lady Celia,” Gabriel murmured in surprised appreciation. “I shall enjoy piecing you together.”

His hand carefully smoothed over her fabric-covered rump. Was he testing her resolve in allowing him to do as he wished? Celia bit back a moan but did not move. His touch traced the lines of the twin mounds, committing her to memory. His fingers trailed and roamed while flames ignited deep in Celia’s body.

Dear Lord, this was something she never saw happening. How could his hands, so large and threatening, stroke her with such tender care?

“I’m imagining the rosy hue you’ll turn under the weight of my palm, Celia.” His murmur was soft and low. “How the imprint of my hand on your ivory white flesh will be shockingly pink before fading away. I’m imagining how you will squirm and gasp, both dreading and anticipating the next strike. And I know right now, you are wondering if I will even dare.”

Smack!

The heaviness of his palm cracking over her bottom was unexpected. Gabriel’s hand was so enormous it nearly covered both cheeks. Celia jolted forward in shock, biting back a cry before freezing still with awareness.

“That was only a preview, sweetness, of what I wish to do.” Gabriel’s breath was ragged, and yet control simmered in the way he handled her. “There’s more. So much more than you could ever comprehend.”

Celia shuddered but did not dare attempt an escape. She remained draped over his lap in a state of willing although dazed curiosity.

He wasn’t done with her just yet as evidenced by his barely audible sigh.

“Damnit, Celia. I can feel your heat, smell your arousal. It is unraveling me.”

Gabriel’s hand slipped low. It ventured beyond the slit in her underdrawers. Then he was exploring her with just one finger. A devilish, sinful finger that dipped and swirled against the opening of her body for what could have been an eternity but was likely only a few seconds.

Celia let out a muffled cry, sensations flooding her. She shuddered. Aching. Wanting. Needing. Because Gabriel still wore riding gloves and the leather burned like a firebrand on her sensitive flesh, igniting every nerve ending until her body screamed for more.

Her legs fell further apart, greedily inviting him to take everything.

But as quickly as her punishment had begun, it was over.

CHAPTER 9

Gabriel stood, hauling Celia up along with him. He had no intention of being so rough in his handling, but he gripped her upper arms so tightly he probably left behind imprints of his hands.

Celia could not hide her emotions. Wide, expressive chocolate brown eyes shouted everything at him. Things he had no right knowing. Her excitement. Her confusion. Her shocked arousal. It swirled around him, a heady mix of innocent discovery, and Gabriel fought the urge to place his index finger in his mouth. Fought against the rampant desire to know how sweet her intimate flavor would taste on his tongue. He wanted to lick his finger clean. Allow her body’s essence to eddy and collect on his tastebuds. He wanted to savor and appreciate the taste of her and store the memory away for later when she was no longer under his control.