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“You can’t make me.”

The sound of the chair being kicked backward and then skidding across the tiles is followed up by heavy footfalls from Logan’s desert boots.

I need to run, but my feet are rooted to the floor…until he scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder, again like I weigh nothing.

“Put me down!” I demand.

“Oh, I’m going to put you down, little one…right where you belong. Over Daddy’s knee.”

4

Logan

I exhale roughly as I sit back down in the chair in the kitchen. Half of me is angry at Layla because she let a stranger who we hadn’t vetted inside the house. And the other half of my anger is because she got sassy with me, giving me lip.

But in reality, I couldn’t be angry with her if I wanted to, and I’m glad she gave me a reason, an excuse, to do what I’m about to do.

On the other hand, she needs to understand that no other boys her age, or men in general, are ever going to do anything with her as far as I’m concerned. She thinks people are nice because she’s attractive but those little bastards want in her pants. I don’t care if they’re gay, straight, or what they are…I’m the only man for her and she should be spending time with me from here on out, especially with her father out of town.

The thought of Eric being gone makes the corner of my lip turn up as I squeeze my free hand tight and then release it, preparing to place it firmly on her perfect globes. It’s time to make it abundantly clear to her who she belongs to. Me.

“What are you doing?” she protests, kicking her feet up and punching at my legs while I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, just to quickly verify the kid did in fact leave and the gate locked behind him.

I get a quick confirmation via the streaming app on my phone, rewinding it just a few seconds to confirm the footage of him disappearing from this place forever. Good.

I hold down the power button, not wanting any interruptions, and once the phone’s screen goes black I toss it on the table. My arousal is so damn strong I feel like there’s a fucking beast inside me begging to be set free. That does not bode well with the idea of me easing her into things, giving her a talking to, and being sweet and gentle with her. Fuck it. I know she wants this just as badly as I do and there’s no way I can even think about anything other than doing exactly what I need to do…and sweet and gentle have nothing to do with it.

“Stop squirming or you’re just going to make things worse for yourself,” I order, licking my chops as I stare at her ass in those apple bottom jeans she’s wearing.

She hesitates, and finally complies with something I said, and it’s only then, with her body stilled, that I feel just how hard my cock is. The fucker jerks violently in my trousers and I feel her stomach clench, obviously aware of the steel rod pressing up against it from below.

I need to jerk my fly down and bury all my thick inches inside her, but not yet. First, she must learn to obey.

Grabbing the back of her jeans I raise her ass a little higher in my lap and I swear I feel her lower back stiffen so she can get it even higher.

“Good girl,” I growl. “But that’s not going to make me discipline you any less. You had your chance to comply and you passed it up…multiple times.”

I’m not sure if I want her squirming, fighting me, or not. At this point, it doesn’t matter. All I want is her. Every last part.

But as much as I want to do things my way, and I will, I need to make sure she’s on board. This isn’t about to be a one time thing and she needs to know it. This is forever, and once my hand connects with her backside there’s no going back. She needs to be all in or nothing.

And nothing isn’t an option, but still, I’m going to play nice and offer it to her.

“Baby girl, it’s time to teach you some lessons your father never did, nor ever will. He’s as much as a brother as I’ve ever had, but we both know he doesn’t have much in the way of testicles. You might be able to walk over him, but not me. And that includes the way you talk to me and who you have over at your house.”

“It’s not my fault I have a project for college and I invited over the guy I’m doing it with. The library is closed and I’m not sitting in a coffee shop for hours on end. Not to mention if I was at a four-year university we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. And my dad does have balls by the way, because he’s the one who forbade me from going to a college out of town.”

“That wasn’t your dad that didn’t allow it. It was me.”

“You? How can you…” Her words trail off as she remembers her dad will do anything I tell him, although I don’t try to run him over. I present the options and make it clear which is the best outcome, and keeping Layla close is always the best outcome.

Now that she knows more she could easily try to continue the conversation forward with this guilt trip, trying to make me feel bad about guiding her life in the direction I choose. But she needs to remember this isn’t a conversation at all. And I need a way, any way, to touch her. She needs to understand that her safety falls under my watchful eye. And no way in hell am I ever letting anything happen to her.

“Tell me you understand why I’m doing what I’m doing,” I order.

“I understand, but I don’t like it.”

“It doesn’t matter if you like it or not. It’s for your own good.” I pause and she doesn’t object. “Now…tell me something else,” I growl, my voice dropping even lower.

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