Cassian rapped his knuckles lightly on Analisa’s door. "My liege..." he called, voice low. A flicker of hesitation passed through him—half-expecting another round of torment. But honestly? If it meant spending the night buried inside her, he’d risk whatever experiments she felt like running. Healing ability had its perks.

From inside, Analisa’s voice came cold and sharp. "What do you want?"

"Nothing..." Cassian replied, though the smirk curling his lips betrayed the word. He let his tone slip into mock confusion, then added with a touch of feigned sorrow, "I just wanted to apologize for this morning..."

From his voice, anyone might have thought he carried guilt—but his expression told another story entirely. It didn’t shift even when Analisa opened the door. Cassian wasn’t worried about her catching on to his act; a woman who’d clawed her way up to the rank of cardinal in the cult would see through a flimsy trick like that without blinking.

Which only left one explanation—she wanted him just as badly as he wanted to bury himself in her. The evidence? She hadn’t tossed him out after last night’s little disrespect, nor after this morning’s "transgressions" that nearly got him cooked like some half-frozen, half-charred turkey.

Still, being the strong woman she was, she had to at least put on some kind of act—or so Cassian figured—because her voice cut through the air:"And what about last night? Aren’t you going to apologize for that?"

"I already did this morning..." Cassian replied, pressing forward as she stepped back, the door giving way to let him slip into her room. She still wore her nun-like robes, though tonight they carried a different flair—a touch of style, the fabric trimmed with gold and a finely embroidered veil draped across her head.

"Can’t you do it again?" she asked, her tone cool but not retreating.

Cassian shook his head, grin widening as he kept advancing while she gave ground. Her voice remained icy, sharp as ever, as she added, "Even if it means not being on the receiving end of my spells?"

Cassian only smirked at her threat. Her legs had already bumped against the bed when he caught her chest in his hands and gave a hard squeeze."Quit bullshitting, old hag..." he muttered, yanking her closer by her breasts.

A strained moan slipped from her lips, laced with pain yet sweet to his ears—though he swallowed it whole as his mouth crashed against hers. His grip tightened, kneading her softness with deliberate cruelty, savoring the mix of resistance and yield beneath his fingers.

Her resistance was laughably weak—soft pushes with arms that, had she truly willed it, could have reduced him to dust in an instant. Yet she didn’t. She let him knead her breasts as he pleased, steal from her lips as he pleased, invade her mouth with his tongue as he pleased.

It couldn’t be helped. Left dangling on the edge this morning, she hadn’t even managed to reach halfway to the orgasms Cassian had dragged her toward. The frustration gnawed at her; she’d tried her own hand, even summoned trusted slaves to satisfy her, but nothing worked.

So now, pride swallowed, she allowed him free rein—anything, as long as he brought her over that elusive edge. Strange, how in her long and decadent life she had known countless orgasms, yet now none came unless it was him. Something to ponder later. For the moment, she was close—aching close—yet a seed of worry lingered: would he once again demand she beg for his cock?

That was, after all, why she had been left unsatisfied this morning. But she was no woman to break so easily. Her will was strong; she would not go down without a fight.

Cassian broke the kiss with a low breath. "Shouldn’t you be the one apologizing for this morning?"

"You deserved it," she shot back, glaring. His hands were already full of her breasts, kneading hard, her nipples stiff beneath the triple layers of cloth.

His eyes turned cold as hers stayed defiant. "Then you deserve punishment too..."

She had just opened her mouth—"For wha—" when he spun her around, bending her forward so her ass stuck out. His hand clamped down on her curves, squeezing hard. "For being a fucking bitch," he growled, and brought his palm down in a sharp slap across her backside. The sound cracked, and her moan slipped out with it.

"Stop it..." she snapped, anger burning in her voice. But Cassian didn’t stop—his hand cracked against her other cheek, then again, each slap drawing another unwilling moan from her lips.

"First, say it," he growled, gripping her tightly. "Say you deserve it... for being a fucking bitch."

Her voice broke, stubborn and shaky. "No..."

But her body betrayed her. The sharp stings rippled through her flesh, echoing that same feverish sensation she had felt last night, each strike sparking heat low in her core. Cassian’s hand lingered, rubbing over the reddened curves as he tugged her nun’s robes higher.

"Say it," he pressed, his tone rough, cruel. "Admit you’re nothing but a perverted old hag who deserves to be spanked—for not appreciating the only one willing to fuck you..."

His palm cracked down again, harder this time, the robe now bunched at her waist, leaving her ass bare in dark lace panties.

"And instead, you tortured me," he added coldly, rubbing the heat of his slap into her skin. "So... do you deserve it, or not?"

Her ass was red all over, both cheeks covered in hand marks from his slaps. The lace panties were already soaked, the wet spot spreading wide enough that it was impossible to ignore. She tried to pull her robe down to hide it, but Cassian yanked it back up and kept it there.

"Look at this shit," he said, grabbing her ass and pressing his fingers into the damp fabric. "You’re dripping through lace like some desperate whore. Why the fuck are you even wearing panties today? Last night you didn’t."

He yanked the waistband, snapping it against her skin. "Don’t tell me you wore one yesterday too but took them off from getting them wet by having some perverted daydream of getting your cunt pounded."

Tears welled in her eyes from the sting of his spanks; Cassian wasn’t holding back, each strike sending a sharp, burning thrill through her. And yet... despite herself, she grew wetter with every slap. Still, she refused to admit she deserved the punishment—or that she was enjoying it. ’Just a little more, and I’m going to...’ she thought, hiding her face while a wide, mischievous smile tugged at her lips.

Outside, her voice stayed harsh, shaking with equal parts anger and heat. "Stop this, or I’ll crush you to death, you bastard..." she hissed, arching her back, pressing her ass out harder, subtly shifting to catch every strike, letting the stings roll straight through her core and spark delicious tremors along her thighs.