Page 10 of Loving Luna

She was freshly shaved.

Fuck.

“Fine. You want to play that game? Let’s play.” I slid off the barstool, bent at the waist, and hoisted her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

She squealed, and started hollering, her tiny fists pounding against my back as I stalked through the bar, then the Dungeon.

“Drake! Stop! Put me down this instant, you big oaf!” The way she was hollering and carrying on, if we were anywhere else, I’d have gotten the cops called on me in a hot minute.

But we weren’t anywhere else. We were at the Ranch where bratty subs and Littles being thrown over shoulders and carted away screaming was a common occurrence. Unless she called “Red” nobody would pay any mind.

I made my way out of the Dungeon and to the main floor. To the elevator bank. Up to the third level where Luna shared a suite with other submissives who worked on the Ranch.

Never piss off the man who has a spare key to your place. I’d never used it, and if she wasn’t with me, I never would out of respect for her suitemates.

But she was with me, and I knew better than to ask her to open it or to attempt to make it to my apartment the way she was flailing and carrying on. Slipping my wallet from my pocket, I flashed the key card and when it beeped to indicate it had unlocked, I unceremoniously shoved the door open, stormed through the small living area.

Mia and Yasmin, two of her suitemates, stared at me with wide eyes, but said nothing as I walked to her bedroom door and pushed it open as well.

Luna still shrieked and hollered, but not enough to get anyone to intervene on her behalf. When I closed the bedroom door behind us and set her down on her feet, she glared at me, and stuck out her hand, palm up.

“I want my key back, please.”

I’d seen that coming. But I held on to it, sliding it back into my wallet, and sliding my wallet into my back pants pocket. “Gladly. After we’re done here,” I told her, knowing she was unlikely to still ask for it after we were done.

And then, just as easily as I had in the bar, I scooped her into my arms. This time, instead of throwing her over my shoulder, I sat down on the edge of her bed and upended her over my knee.

She immediately started squealing and yelling, protesting with all she was worth, but she didn’t say the one word that would actually stop me.

So I didn’t stop. I ignored her fussing and swung a leg over the top of hers, trapping her in place.

“Drake!” she yelled, bucking up.

“You brought this on yourself,” I told her. “I just wanted to talk.”

“Talking is overrated,” she grumbled.

I grinned. “Let’s see if you still feel that way when we’re done here.” Grabbing the hem of her dress, which was still at the center of her ass, I yanked up, over her body and head, pulling it off her, leaving her naked.

She grumbled more but didn’t protest. It seemed like she sort of liked being manhandled a bit.

That worked for me.

Smothering a grin, I admired her lithe form, the swell of her breasts, her lean waist, the luscious globes I planned to paintcherry red very, very soon… I’d seen it all a hundred times, but that didn’t make it any less tantalizing.

But as gorgeous and alluring as she was, I wasn’t here to gaze upon her sex. I was a man on a mission, and that mission was to make Luna stop fucking around and talk to me.

Without a word, I brought my hand down across the center of her ass, hitting both cheeks at once. She reared up as if surprised. What had she thought was going to happen?

“Drake!” she growled.

I ignored her and kept on spanking. Again and again my hand fell. Occasionally Luna would squirm under my hold, or growl my name again, but for the most part, she didn’t put up much of a fight, despite being paddled only two hours prior.

Her lack of protest was unsurprising. Luna was a Grade-A spanko, through and through.

And stubborn. Stubborn as hell, and currently, apparently, willing to do anything that wasn’t talking to me.

I couldn’t and wouldn’t have it.

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