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Quickly, I zip up my pants. I need to get back into the right headspace before I deal with her. If this is a tantrum, I need to nip it in the bud right now. If it’s something else, if she feels genuinely aggrieved, I need to know that, too.
I reach out for her, but she ignores me, turning to face the window, her back to me. “Hey.” She keeps ignoring me. “Hey,” I try again. She acts like she hasn’t even heard me, so I take hold of her shoulders and physically turn her around, making her look at me. I look deep into her eyes, trying to read the emotions I see there. Definitely a bit of hurt. But mostly I just see anger.
“Put that lip away, little girl,” I scold lightly, tapping my finger against her pouting mouth. The mouth that I kissed just moment ago. The mouth that made me see stars.
She just glares at me. And keeps pouting.
“No, you’re not having a tantrum,” I tell her firmly, hardening my voice, roughening it into the stern tone she’s used to. “I am not rejecting you. I am not trying to hurt you, or make you mad. I just want our first time together to be special.” I try to smile, but I’m a mix of emotions myself, right now, and it’s hard to unjumble them all and put into words what I’m feeling. “Do you really think we’re both going to fit in the back of the car? I’m over six foot tall, sweetheart. I’m not a teenager anymore. The back seat of a car is not going to work for me. I want a bed. A private spa pool. Roses. A romantic dinner for two, perhaps under the stars. I want to spoil you.”
The tiniest hint of a smile flits across her face, but only briefly. I blink, and that tiny smile has been replaced with her pout, and her face is twisted into a scowl. But it tells me what I need to know: she’s not hurting. She’s bratting. Jade Owens is doing what she does best: acting like a spoiled little brat.
“You know how I deal with brats,” I remind her sternly, a clear threat in my warning to behave. It doesn’t work. Instead of heeding my warning, she wrenches free of my grasp and turns her back on me again, facing the window, showing me in no uncertain terms exactly what she thinks of me.
I chuckle. As much as I’ve enjoyed getting to know the sweet, loving, sexual side of Jade, I have missed the brat. It was the brat that first stole my heart, after all. And it’s the brat that I love the challenge of taming.
“If you think that me falling in love with you is going to get you out of future spankings, you’re sadly mistaken,” I inform her firmly. “On the contrary—now that you’re mine, I will have no qualms about putting you over my knee, pulling down your pants, and spanking your bare bottom as hard as I can.”
She gasps and whirls around to face me. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Don’t ever dare me, little girl,” I growl. “You already know that I will.”
The glare she gives me could have curdled milk, if there was any nearby. Sparks of anger flash in her eyes. The corner of her upper lip turns up into a sneer.
“Fuck off,” she snarls.
I’m pretty sure this is a test. She wants to know if anything has changed between us. She needs to know that the boundaries we’ve established are still in place, that there are still consequences for her misbehaviour. She’s trying to find out if I’m still in charge, or if that kiss has given her the upper hand. She wants to know where she stands. I’m going to show her.
“Get into the back seat,” I command, deliberately making my voice as stern and deep as possible. “I’m going to punish you.”
Part of me expects her to defy me, to disobey, but she doesn’t. Instead, she looks at me in horror, and scrambles over into the back seat of the car, just like I ordered. I get out and go around to the boot, rummage around in my bag, pull something out, pocket it. I prepared well this morning, before Jade was even awake, I busied myself ordering a few things online from a local adult toy shop and had them delivered by urgent courier to the hotel room. I now have an entire arsenal of tools at my disposal to keep this young lady in line, and I’m about to introduce her to one of them.
Jade is sitting in the back seat like I told her to, but she’s squished right up against the door, as far away from me as she can get. I slide in beside her and drag her down over my lap, so she’s lying with her legs on the right side of me, her head on myleft. Her bottom is perched high across my knees. She doesn’t fight me.
“So you won’t fuck me on the back seat because there’s no room, but it’s big enough for you to spank me?” she asks bitterly.
I don’t answer. Instead, I slide her clingy skirt up over her hips and tug down her underwear, baring her bottom. She bucks against my thighs, fighting me, but I hold her fast and rub my hand over her pale, perfect globes. There’s no lingering marks from the spankings I gave her yesterday. Her bottom is unmarred, creamy white. It won’t be for much longer. Soon, it’s going to be cherry red and sore. And there will be a pretty pink jewel peeking out between her cheeks; the decoration on the end of the butt plug that I’m going to seat inside her.
“What did I tell you I was going to do to you if you were naughty?” I ask her, my voice rough with arousal. Having her bare-bottomed across my lap is having quite the effect on my cock, far more than I had anticipated.
She doesn’t answer for a moment, so I slap her left butt cheek sharply, letting her know that I mean business.
“You were going to spank me,” she squeaked, her voice filled with as much arousal as mine is.
“More detail,” I demand gruffly. I want her to repeat it exactly, word for word. I want to know that she was paying attention.
She squirms across my lap, brushing against my hard cock, and sucks in a breath.
“You were going to spank my bare bottom as hard as you can.” Her voice is ragged. She’s breathing fast. Her fists are tightly clenched. She’s a bundle of nerves.
“That’s right, little girl. I’m going to start now.”
I’m not going to spank her with all my strength, of course. That would be cruel. It could do serious damage. But I am going to spank her hard enough to leave her stinging and sore and in no doubt whatsoever that she is mine.
“Yes, Daddy,” she squeaks, wriggling her bottom in anticipation. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she liked this. I’d think she wanted it.
I spank her crisply a dozen times, reddening both her bare, bouncing cheeks, and watch her closely. She’s opening and closing her fists, grinding her pelvis against my thigh, making little squeaky, mewling noises. Suspicious now, I slide my left hand down her back to hold her firmly at the back of her neck and dip my right hand between her legs, brushing my fingers across her swollen labia, sticky with her juices.
“You naughty, naughty little girl!” I exclaim in mock outrage. “This pussy is dripping wet! You like this, don’t you?”
