Page 33 of For the Sub

“If you’d like to continue with the sass, you’ll find yourself over my lap with your derrière upturned, regardless of whether we’re alone or with company.”

“Bring it on, Sir. I’m not afraid of your little spankings.”

“I see.” Cheeky Brandy was so unlike any other woman—submissive or not—that he’d been with.

She responded with perfection to each of his commands. Yet she lacked artifice, letting him know what she wanted. And she sure as hell was willing to take the initiative to get it.

He grinned, more than happy to indulge her challenge.

“Sir?”

He grabbed a kitchen chair and dragged it toward them.

“Uhm…” Her eyes widened.

He didn’t say a word as he sat and pulled her across his knee.

She laughed in apparent delight.

The dogs jumped up and barked, and she commanded them into silence. They obeyed and returned to their comfy beds.

“You won’t be laughing in a minute.”

“No?”

Niles trapped her legs between his and yanked her skirt up to her waist.

Mindless of whether he caused a run in her tights or not, he tugged them down to mid-thigh level. Then he yanked her thong tight between her buttocks, making her yelp.

Christ.

Her ass was even more round and delectable than he remembered. In this position, with her light-blue underwear separating her ass cheeks and dark tights framing her legs, her body seemed even more inviting.

He almost succumbed to the temptation of rubbing her skin and bringing her off again. Instead, he forced himself to focus on his intention.

He brought his hand down hard on her creamy flesh, creating an instant, harsh slash of red.

“Oh, Sir.” Mirth had vanished from her voice, as if she had sudden clarity of the grievousness of her behavior.

Niles delivered half a dozen blistering strokes, continuing until she gasped.

No way would she cry or beg him to stop. But she dragged in some big gulps of air to help her settle into her spanking. Her breasts bounced free, keeping him aroused. Maybe this hadn’t been one of his better ideas.

Before she could get comfortable, he stopped then jostled her from his legs while grabbing her around the waist to help her to her feet. “Stand there,” he instructed.

As he expected, she followed orders, contrite, eyes downcast, arms behind her back. The position pushed out her breasts, as if in offering. She made no attempt to rub her buttocks or right her clothing even though the tights had to be constricting her circulation.

For a full minute, he sat and observed her.

How the hell had she started to matter to him so quickly?

Matter?

Hell.

That was an understatement. She was consuming his every thought.

The lovely Brandy Hess was like flame to his kindling.

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