Page 111 of Stolen By the Billionaire
Blaze’s pale blue eyes widened like he’d figured out who the murderer was in a mystery movie.
She demanded, “Were you going to call me a rhymes-with-witch?”
Blaze shook his head slowly, his eyes still wide. “Nope, not that b-word. Something else.”
30
A Revelation
Blaze
Brat.
Not bitch. Not badass. Not bonkers or bunny or Barbie doll.
A brat, a specialized type of a submissive in the kink lexicon, a vocabulary that Blaze had become all too well acquainted with after he’d left the military and sought the adrenaline he’d suddenly lacked.
Sarah was a brat.
And with that word, every one of her actions made sense.
When Blaze had tied Sarah up with the kinbaku ropes in his office, she’d looked up at him with that vulnerable innocence because he’d disciplined her.
When she’d called him Sir with that sassy attitude at breakfast and he’d growled at her, she’d practically wiggled with excitement.
Blaze had never considered himself a brat tamer. He was a commander of SEAL teams, the military's most disciplined, professional people, not a basic-training drill sergeant who turned spoiled civilians into soldiers.
But just like during his military career, if Blaze lacked a skill, he was willing to learn.
He leaned down, bracing one of his forearms on the car beside Sarah’s head, caging her, as he looked directly into her fathomless dark eyes. “Listen to me well, kitten. I did not kidnap you. I rescued you, and I’m taking you to safety. I am responsible for you during this time. You are under my protection, but I was a soldier, not a monk. There is only so much provocation I can take before I shove you down face-first on the bed, paddle your pretty little bottom until it’s pink, and fuck you senseless.”
Her eyes flipped open, her eyelashes practically brushing her eyebrows in her shock. “You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t look so shocked. You knew what I was when you started acting like a naughty little girl. You want someone to be rough with you. You knew I’d correct you, that I’d control you. You picked the right man for the job.”
He trailed one finger under her jawline and lifted her chin, practically suspending her from his fingertip. “You’ve always wanted to be the naughty little girl, to do the things naughty girls do, to not do the chores or stay home, to go out to parties and clubs or have a man take you. The problem with doing those things is that then you’d feel guilty, and then you’d have to be punished. I assure you, I have no problem with punishing you.”
She was blinking her widened eyes, and her mouth was opening and closing like a gasping fish.
Blaze said, “I have no problem with punishing you and then using you. You pretended to be the good girl, but you’re not. You’ve always wanted to be bad, haven’t you?”
She didn’t nod or shake her head, so Blaze pressed on.
He asked, “Which are you, the good girl who has to be forced to enjoy herself, or the bad girl who has to be punished and shown who’s boss?”
She whispered, “The good girl?”
Blaze let one side of his mouth rise as he looked right into her eyes like he was staring into her soul. “Sounds like something a bad girl would say.”
Sarah broke the eye contact, and her gaze flicked to the side as she glanced away. With her head lowered, she stared at her farm boots and the dirt by the side of the road.
Submissive.
Just the reaction he was looking for.
He lowered his voice, “Don’t push me, kitten. My job was to command big, strong men. You’re nothing but a little ball of fluff to me, and I will bend you to my will. Now be a good girl, get in the passenger seat, and sit quietly.”
Sarah turned away and stepped into the passenger side of the car, tucking her feet in while still looking down at her boots, and he shut the door with an authoritative thump.
