“Count for me,” he said. “Starting at a hundred.” He stood behind her and she braced herself. What was he waiting for? Was he torturing her with suspense? Taking his aim? “Admiring the view,” he said as if reading her thoughts. She blushed hot at the flattery and smiled. Then he wiped the smile off her face with one quick crack of the crop. It struck high on her thigh in a spot she’d never associated with agony before. It burned like Greek fire. She cried out in shock and Malcolm laughed.
