Page 32 of Her Shameful Wedding Night (Corporate Correction)

“Not yet,” Bradley answered shortly. “But she knows she will, tonight.”

Zoe realized then that she had closed her eyes at some point, because now she found herself twisting her face again, side to side, trying to see what John and Tony thought of this news, and what Bradley’s face could tell her about his intentions. Above all, she needed to know that none of them had guessed the vision, the dark fantasy, that had come to her in the church bathroom where she had earned this paddling.

The lust she glimpsed in all their eyes did nothing to reassure her. Nor did Bradley’s next words have any comfort in them.

“John, can you video the paddling for me? Tony can hold her down for it.”

Chapter Eighteen

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Bradley handed hisphone to his stepbrother and stepped forward with the white paddle raised so that Zoe could see it clearly, as she cast her eyes back behind her, clearly desperate to know what was happening.

“I make her turn her face forward when I’m punishing her,” he told his groomsmen, though. “That helps her learn respect.” He spoke to Zoe, then, meeting her wide eyes with his steady gaze. “Zo, you know the rules. Don’t make this worse.”

Zoe’s face crumpled in a way now familiar to Bradley—the same way that had told him, the very first time he saw it, that his gorgeous bride had a dark, wanton streak so wide they would need a lifetime together if they were to have any hope of exploring it fully. She hesitated, her brows knitted and her lips parted, until he narrowed his eyes and tapped the paddle against her little bottom for the very first time.

She gave a cry of surprise and fear, and she turned her face forward toward a bookshelf full of what looked like the state law code of 1890. Little whining noises came from her turned away face: Bradley saw that she had closed her mouth, now, and her nostrils flared with each breath and each tiny submissive sound.

“I caught her playing with herself yesterday,” he told his groomsmen. “She’s not allowed to do that without permission.”

“This isn’t going to feel as nice as touching your little pussy, now is it?” Tony asked. Zoe’s fearful noise in response was a little louder than her whimpers, but she didn’t respond directly.

“Answer my friend, Zoe,” Bradley said, giving two more taps with the paddle’s broad, flat face. “You know how important that kind of respect is to me. Is this paddling going to feel as nice as masturbating did?”

Extroverted Tony had obviously taken to the situation like a duck to water. The smile on his broad Mediterranean face told Bradley that his usher would follow his lead wherever the groom wanted to go. Bradley cast a glance over at John, now off to the right and intent on the phone in his hand. A quieter kind of guy, tall John’s serious expression nevertheless told Bradley that his stepbrother, too, had found confirmation in Zoe’s reaction to the beginning of her discipline session that the bride did indeed need a paddling.

“No,” Zoe squeaked.

“I think you meanno, sir, Zo. You’ll call us all sir here, while you’re learning your lesson.”

“Oh, God... Bradley...” Zoe said, turning her face back over her left shoulder.

In her face he could see that she needed one final reassurance that he meant it all in love, just as she meant her consent and submission in love. With the paddle still on her bottom, he bent forward and kissed her deeply. He tapped the paddle on her adorable ass while their lips still moved against each other, and she moaned up into his mouth.

Bradley broke the kiss, and looked at John and Tony, to see affectionate, congratulatory smiles on their faces. Turning back to Zoe, he kissed her more gently, then said, “Eyes forward, Zo.”

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