Page 131 of Lucky 14

“Sure.”

Kyan is clearly aggravated and is continuing to rock, shaking his head every few seconds and staring at nothing. It’s too much. It’s too much information at the wrong time. This is exactly why I told Oakley not to tell him.

I can feel the anger rising in my chest. Why did he have to tell him? What good could he possibly have thought this could have done? Kyan was the one alter who was willing to help, and now Oakley has made an enemy out of him. Now our chances of dying have increased exponentially.

“You enjoy the control, don’t you?” Kyan’s voice startles me, and I realize that his attention is still hooked on me.

I suck in a breath, heart racing. I want to lie to him. Want to keep control by throwing him off my scent. But, I don’t. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m trying to hurt you.”

His look doesn’t change. He’s evaluating me. The silence stretches on, and I sit there, holding my ground. I refuse to be ashamed of trying to take control of a shitty situation. Of trying to survive.

Finally, Kyan smirks. “You made me feel it, so it’s your turn to feel it too. Then you can decide how you want to apologize to me.” Before I can process that, he turns to Oakley. “Put her over your knee.”

Put me over his knee? I’m shocked at the abrupt change in conversation, but Kyan looks serious. He cocks his head at Oakley.

“I…”

“What? You had your cock in her hand, but this is too much?” Kyan asks. He shakes his head quickly, like he’s trying to dislodge a thought. Or maybe like he’s trying to hold front.

I turn to Oakley. I know clinically I need to rebuild rapport with Kyan from the ground up. And that means giving him a sense of control. That doesn’t mean I want to. It’s also something I’d never do in a therapy relationship. Power isn’t supposed to extend over me, the therapist. I’m supposed to have boundaries.

What boundaries can you have when someone has you captive on their murder island?

The thought makes tears form in my eyes. I’ve survived this long by taking control, and now it looks like I’m going to have to keep surviving by giving up control.

“Holli?” Oakley is looking at me with those conflicted eyes. Like he needs me to make the decision for him.

So I do. “Are you scared? Just do it.”

Oakley’s gaze hardens, but I don’t miss the flash of lust before he swallows it down. Oakley loves being told what to do just about as much as Wyatt does. He thrives in letting go of control just as much as it terrifies me.

Something that Kyan clearly knows.

But I won’t let him see weakness. So I lean over Oakley’s lap, laying my torso on him. I feel his hands lightly tap my back, like he doesn’t know where to touch me.

“Spank her.” The command comes from Kyan, who’s shaking his head more now.

“What?” Oakley gasps.

“You heard me. Punish her.”

“I can’t…” He’s trembling under me.

“Hit me, Oakley, I’m not a fragile flower.” The anger is giving me a semblance of control, despite everything. It’s holding me together.

Then his hand comes down on my ass, not hard. Just enough to make a slight smacking sound.

Kyan huffs. “This is a punishment, mousey, it’s supposed to hurt.”

“I can’t⁠—”

“Do it,” I say, teeth gritted.

So he does. This time, the pain sparks up my spine, and the smack echoes in the room.

“Good boy,” Kyan’s voice is deeper. “Again.”

Oakley does, smacking my ass so it jiggles. I bury my face in the couch, knowing that I’m on full display for both of them. Knowing, in this moment, that I have no control. And yet the pain grounds me and also sends involuntary pleasure straight to my clit.