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“We can have pancakes. Americans like those, right?”
“Are you insane?” I ask, jumping up from my seat and blocking the way to the door as he tries to leave. “You’re not doing this. I don’t know what you’re planning, but you’d better not hurt my father.”
He grabs my wrist, pulling me to the side and staring into my eyes with a look that threatens to engulf me in flames. “The decision isn’t yours to make, Taylor. Know your place here.”
“Fuck off,” I snarl, pulling my hand away and stepping back.
“You’d speak that way to your husband?” he asks, feigning offence.
I grit my teeth. “I’ll speak that way to whoever I damn well please. Disrespect begets disrespect.”
“Spoke like a true spoiled brat,” he replies, rolling his eyes. “Do yourself a favor and lose the attitude. I’m getting tired of it already.”
“Fuck you,” I respond, really emphasizing the F in fuck.
Suddenly, his demeanor of casual annoyance shifts, and he becomes another man entirely, grabbing me by the waist and holding me under his arm like a package he’s reluctantly delivering to someone across the street.
He marches out of the office with me as I kick my legs and try to escape, but he’s not having any of it.
He takes me to the master bedroom, dumping me on the floor and allowing me to scramble to my feet before grabbing me and pushing me over the bed.
“What are you doing?” I whimper.
Am I turned on by this?
Fuck, I am.
He lays his hand across my ass and spanks me hard, causing me to jump. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought he’d yell at me, perhaps locking me in the room and telling me he’s not going to let me out until I calm down.
But I never thought he was spank me. How humiliating!
His firm, disciplinary hand hits my ass again, and he chuckles as I squirm in his grip. “I bet you’re not used to being punished for being a brat. Well, we do things differently in my house.”
He spanks me again, and the sting is followed by a rush of warmth and arousal.
I bury my face into the sheets so that he can’t see my expression. He’d like it too much, and then he’d never stop punishing me.
“Are you ready to say sorry?” he asks, pulling back his hand again.
“No,” I reply, bracing myself for the result.
Again, he spanks me, and again, he warns me to apologize, but I can win this. I know I can beat him at his own game. I’m known for being stubborn, and I’m not going to relent just because he tells me to. I’m his wife but he doesn’t own me.
He has to earn that.
“It doesn’t seem like I’m getting through to you,” he mutters, grabbing my pants and pulling them down to expose my ass. “How about this?”
The next spankings are against my bare skin, and I push my ass out to meet them, encouraging him to do it until he feels guilty.
I refuse to be the one who comes away from this saying that they’re sorry. Only he will.
“Had enough?” he asks, sounding slightly winded as he pats my ass.
I have to admit that it’s burning hot and sore even to the slightest touch, but I don’t want to let him win. “You sound tired, but I could go all day,” I say in the prissiest voice I can muster.
He lets go of me, stepping back and making an annoyed grunt. “That’s just the first part of your punishment. The next will be coming tonight.”
I look over my shoulder, smirking at him as he glares at me. “Ooh, what are you going to do to me next?”
