Page 243 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

“It's not that. Well, I mean, it kind of is . . . ” She took in a deep breath. “I just . . . I can’t . . . I don’t know if I can let you spank me.”

“All right,” he said easily. “Why haven’t you said anything before now?”

“Because I know that you won’t want to be with me!” she blurted out.

“Because I can’t spank you?”

“Exactly! This is the sort of relationship you want and I can’t give it to you, so I might as well leave.”

“And why are you so terrified of being spanked? Were you never spanked as a child?”

“I was punished all the time. Scratched, pinched, my hair pulled. I was told I was useless, dumb, a waste of space.”

“Oh, baby.” Murderous rage filled him. No wonder she was scared. He cursed himself for not questioning her more about her past. “Who?”

“My parents,” she whispered.

“Those assholes. No one knew? Helped?”

“Eventually, my grandma found out what was going on. She told them she was taking me. After that, life was a lot better. I haven’t seen them since the day she took me with her.”

“A good woman.”

“The best. She died during my first year of college.”

His poor girl.

“Baby girl, you should have told me. I never want to scare you.”

“I should just go now,” she said in a low voice. “I’m sorry.”

He tilted her face back, kissing her lightly. “You don’t need to go anywhere, baby.”

“But . . . but I can’t give you the sort of relationship you want.”

“We can still have a domestic discipline relationship. It’s just that spankings wouldn’t be part of the discipline.”

“What . . . what would be?” she asked, staring up at him.

“Hmm, things like corner time, writing lines, being grounded. I could take away your phone, use of your car. I could edge you for hours without letting you come. Make you wear an anal plug and a clit tickler. There are lots of punishments I could use. This isn’t the end of us. You’re not leaving me that easily. I love you, Reagan.”

She gaped at him.

Had he just said that? He hadn’t, right?

“It’s too soon,” she whispered.

“Says who? Are you telling me I don’t know what I’m feeling?”

Nope. She wasn’t going to tell him that. She didn’t think anyone would dare.

“Really?” she asked. “You love me?”

He cupped her face with his hand. “I love you.”

Her lips trembled. “I’m scared.”

“Of me?”

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