Frederick Palmer's new bride stands in the archive room with her skirts already lifted, the contract demanding far more than her hand in marriage. His hand rests at the small of her back, the first spank suspended in the dusk light between them. Kenna's sharp voice falters as his quiet authority meets her resistance, each word drawing out the submission she craves beneath her independence.
The baron knows this discipline will bind them tighter than any legal tie, yet it risks exposing the isolation he has hidden since losing his family. Her curvaceous form yields inch by inch under his measured correction, promising the partnership that could save them both or destroy the fragile control he maintains.
One strike away from crossing into possession neither can acknowledge, the question remains whether their power exchange will secure the barony or leave them more alone than before.
