Page 30 of Kronos’ Consort

He wished the caress could have lasted longer, just as he wanted to hear how much she cared for her master, but duty beckoned. She had a reckoning to come, and neither of them could move forward until she was punished.

“But,” he concluded with a wink, “we cannot dwell on affection until the hue of your ass matches the color of your face.”

Chapter Fifteen

Kris

Her head swam with mixed emotions, but as he lifted her from the chair, all she could focus on was the brooding giant who’d promised to punish her.

Watching him take his place in the seat she’d recently vacated, she realized she should have been petrified by the premise. Kronos was huge, not just tall, but an absolute giant, and he was as powerful as he was physically capable. If he was hellbent on hurting her, then not only was there nothing she could do to stop him, but he would know how defenseless she was.

She wasn’t just tangling with a man anymore. She was falling in love with someone so formidable that she couldn’t even yet properly understand who he was. She’d heard his explanation, but it was as though there was a disconnect in her head. She still couldn’t fathom how he claimed to have been around for so long, or how in God’s name he could do the things he seemed able to.

She blew out a breath. Whatever his abilities, there was no choice but to yield and, blinking at him, she was aware of her racing heart. He opened a palm between them, and she watched as a silver blanket manifested on his skin. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him produce items from thin air, yet her head still ached as he unfolded the cover and spread it over his knees.

“Come.” He held out his right hand, and her focus flitted to his raging erection as she shifted to accept the palm.

Evidently, Kronos was enjoying himself, and if she recalled her prior spankings, then the prospect of what was to come would be doing nothing to dampen his fervor.

“Remember what I told you.” He shifted the full weight of his attention to her face. “This won’t be easy, little one.”

She tensed at the warning, torn about his verdict. She supposed she deserved the stern penance, if for no other reason, then because fleeing had proved fatal. That thought pinballed in her head. Her desire to flee had seemed rational at the time, but if he hadn’t been there to revive her, then…

She paused, trying not to dwell on the outcome. Whatever had happened between them, she accepted that a part of her craved the spanking as an absolution of sorts. Once she was punished, her escape attempt could finally be put to bed.

She trusted him to take care of her. Despite his brutish dictates, he did seem to want her to be happy. That was why she ceded to the penalty without complaint. That trust was also why, even though she had no doubt that he was going to make her feel the upcoming penance, she knew he wouldn’t go too far. It was just like he’d told her. He’d correct her when it was necessary, but he’d never cause her real harm.

“Kristina.” His curt tone snapped her back to the reality of the parlor, and she leapt before she took his hand. “Do you understand?”

Swallowing down her rising nerves, she nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Down, then.”

He pointed to the blanket with his free hand, the fingers she was grasping shifting to her back and urging her forward. It took less than thirty seconds to find herself face-first over his thighs, the heat of the fire only a foot from where she was suddenly sprawled.

She landed with a yelp, her fingertips searching the fibers of the rug in front of her. Over the time she’d been there, she’d got to know that rug well, having studied its patterns while she’d been his footrest, and staring at it then, those outlines steadied her.

“Remember why you’re here.” One of his hands swept over her thighs en route to her backside. Her muscles tautened at the touch, expecting the worst, yet oddly thankful for the comforting caress. The paradox was confounding. There was trepidation at the pain to come, yet a knowing that the same discomfort would anchor her. “I don’t want to hear any plaintive pleas about how much it hurts.”

“No, Master.” She clenched her toes, knowing he was about to start.

A part of her was ready to accept whatever he had to give. That same facet harbored shame about the way she’d fled when he’d kept every vow he’d ever made to her and, on reflection, he’d actually listened to what she had to say. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told him she knew he cared for her. Despite his ruthless persona, Kronos had demonstrated that affection repeatedly, and in return, her feelings had ratcheted, pushing her right to the brink of being in love with the Goliath.

That said, she was no fool, and thanks to her lover, she was no longer a complete novice where spankings were concerned. She knew how much the strikes would hurt, and whatever logic remained in her didn’t much relish the prospect. She held her breath when his palm disappeared, bracing herself for what was to come. The initial swat landed on both her cheeks, stealing the air from her lungs even though she had anticipated its intensity.

He wasted no time finding his pace, his palm raining down over her with a fast succession of smacks, while his free hand pressed down gently on the small of her back. She squirmed at the onslaught, struggling to keep still as she absorbed the blows. In isolation, any one of them would have been tolerable, pleasant even in different circumstances, but given the barrage of strikes, it didn’t take long for her discomfort to morph into something more painful and urgent.

Fidgeting over the blanket, she grabbed at the rug’s fibers, as though the yarns could offer emotional support. He’d told her not to appeal for clemency, but if he intended to keep up the current tempo, she couldn’t see any other way she’d get through the ordeal.

Smack after smack landed on her tender behind, his swats alternating between each cheek and those that intentionally clipped both at the same time. In the end, the location of the strikes didn’t matter much to Kris. She’d given up counting the blows after his initial delivery, and there seemed little solace in any placement he offered.

That’s why it’s a punishment. Her hands balled into fists at the snide voice in her head. It’s supposed to hurt.

Worse still, though, was the growing intensity emanating from the fire beyond her face. The heat of those flames had initially provided her with a welcome distraction from the spanking, but after several moments strewn over him, the relentless temperature was only adding to her struggle. There seemed to be no end to her distress, be it the warmth roasting her skin or the powerful god intent on doing the same to her exposed ass.

“Master!”

Ultimately, there was no choice but to speak up and risk his wrath. She had to let him know she couldn’t continue with the fire’s strength on her face.