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“Aye. I do.”

I stepped close behind her until my bare chest nearly touched her back.

“And I’ll never give you pain you don’t want.” I bent to her ear. “But don’t mistake that for a promise that I won’t make you hurt in ways you enjoy.”

Her breath caught.

“I think you may find there are a few kinds of pain you like very much.”

I stepped back just far enough to give myself room, drew the belt back, and brought it down across one cheek.

The crack cut through the bedroom.

Isabella jolted against the window with a sharp gasp. A red line rose almost immediately across her skin.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Then her thighs drew closer together, and her hips tipped back the smallest amount.

Well, fuck me.

Her hand left the glass, reaching instinctively toward the burning mark.

I caught her wrist before she touched it.

“I said hands on the glass.”

I brought her arm back up and pinned both wrists against the window with one hand, caging her between my body and the glass. The folded belt remained in my other hand.

Her breathing had quickened, but she wasn’t trying to get free. If anything, the subtle press of her ass against me said the opposite.

I put my mouth beside her ear.

“If you want to play naughty games with me and pout when I don’t give you what you want, you need to understand the rules before I give you any more consequences.”

She turned her face slightly toward mine.

“Do you know what safe words are?”

Her brows drew together. “No?”

There was no fear in the answer. Only curiosity.

“Then listen carefully. Green means keep going. Yellow means I ease up or change what I’m doing. Red means I stop. Immediately. No arguments.”

Her eyes stayed on mine in the reflection.

“And you pick another word that belongs only to you. Something you’re never going to say by accident. If I hear that word, everything stops.”

She nodded once.

“I’ll push you, Mouse. I’ll find your limits. But I won’t cross them. There’s a difference.”

I loosened my hold on her wrists without letting them go. “Pain can turn hot when you trust the person giving it to you. A spanking can hurt like hell and still make your pussy wet enough to drip down your thighs. The fact that it hurts can be part of why you like it.”

Her cheeks darkened.

“If you hate something, we don’t do it again. If you ever decide all you want from me is ordinary sex in our bed with nothing but my hands on you, I’ll still die a happy man.”