I raised my hand.
And brought it down.
The crack of palm against flesh bounced off the brick walls and scattered across the candlelight like something physical you could catch in your fist. Addison's whole body lurched forward and a noise tore out of her throat—part surprise, part raw want, part something wild that she'd been choking down since the moment she walked through Aurora's door tonight. The Euphoric Feedback at level seven grabbed the sting and twisted it into pure heat that spread from the contact point through her hips and thighs and down to her toes, which curled so hard I thought her arches might cramp.
A red handprint bloomed across her left cheek like ink spreading through water.
"FUCK."
I hit her again. Same spot. Harder this time.
Addison's fingers dug into the sheets hard enough that the fabric started to tear. Her spine curved down and her ass tilted up toward me, an invitation so blatant that subtlety had given up and walked out of the room.
