His Pennsylvania Princess (Stateside Doms Book 3) by Rogue London

Author:Rogue London [London, Rogue]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Hot Romance Inc
Published: 2022-04-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Sophie

I was so overwhelmed. I thought I would feel better about my work performance by the end of week one, but instead, I felt worse. Antonio had out-of-office meetings and had been gone since 11:00 this morning. Glancing at my watch, the time was getting close to three. I should have left half an hour ago, but I was stuck in my chair, my ass feeling adhered to the leather covering.

It was dark and stormy outside. What had started off as a light drizzle on Monday had steadily gotten worse throughout the week. Gazing out at the hard rain from the safety of my office, my mind wandered.

When Antonio first left, I almost squealed with the chance to work alone, self-governing my work. I was used to flying solo and having him by my side twenty-four-seven this past week had taken some serious adjusting.

Tuesday, I’d blurred the lines so severely between our personal and office roles that Antonio had sent me for a time out in the penthouse. I stormed upstairs and went to the gym to work out my anger. I didn’t like being told what to do and imagined that bag as Antonio’s face.

The entire time I punched, I shouted at the bag like it was him. When I finally collapsed on the mat, spent of all my nasty remarks, I’d laughed until I cried. Antonio found me sitting on the bed sometime later, fresh from the shower.

“Feeling better,” he’d asked.

My mature response was to hit him with a pillow. My aggression reignited and went from zero to a hundred in a nanosecond. Eventually, he got tired of theatrics and threatened to tie me to the bed and spank me. Usually, the very idea, while abhorrent to my brain, my body would perk up and beg for it. I still liked lying to myself that he hadn’t noticed my crazy kink yet, but I was sure he did and had chosen not to call me out.

“Fuck you,” I screamed.

Antonio’s eyes had darkened then, but he never reacted. Even when I pushed him hard, he could be a very patient man.

“Sophie, bend over with your elbows on the bed. Do it now,” he’d demanded.

Instead of complying, I said, “No.”

Antonio reached into his side table drawer and pulled out what looked like a solid wood hairbrush, minus the bristles, and was approximately one inch thick

“This,” he’d said holding it up, “is an attitude adjuster for naughty princesses.”

Antonio put his foot on the bed and then, lifting me up, dangled me over his muscular thigh. I screamed when he let go, grabbing his shin for support. My feet were easily a foot off the floor. He placed one forearm across the back of my hips to hold me in place. Antonio brought the hairbrush thingy down on my backside and I squealed with the sting. I kicked my legs trying to adjust, but I was so precariously perched that it didn’t help.

The wooden brush came down relentlessly, and I howled with each stroke.

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