Page 20 of Dirty Delivery

“My problem is that you’re acting like a child. You want to throw tantrums? Fine. But you’re going to learn that actions have consequences.”

“Oh, so now you’re the consequence police?”

He smirks, but there’s no humor in it. “If that’s what it takes to get through to you, then yeah.”

Before I can argue, he spins me around and pushes me gently but firmly toward the bed. My heart pounds as I realize he’s not just angry—he’s determined. And I have no idea what that means for me.

Chapter Seventeen

Rylan

“Keep your chest on the bed and your hands behind your back.” There’s a flicker of defiance in her green eyes as she hesitates, her lips tightening into a thin line.

“What if I don’t?” She challenges.

I smirk, stepping closer, my confidence growing with every deliberate step. The air between us seems to hum with unspoken tension, and I can’t help but let a hint of amusement dance across my lips. “Then I’ll tie you up. Is that what you want, mo stóirín?” Her skin flushes a deep shade of pink and her body shivers at my warning.

Her eyes widen slightly, and after a tense moment, she obeys, lowering herself onto the bed and placing her hands behind her back. Her defiance wavers, replaced by a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

“Have you ever been spanked?” I ask, hooking my thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and sliding them to her ankles.

Her breath hitches. “A . . . a little. In the bedroom.

It’s . . .” She trails off, unable to finish the thought.

I chuckle softly, the curve of her ass is smooth under my palm as I run my hand over her bare flesh. “Good girl,” I murmur, slipping the leather belt from my jeans. The sound of it sliding free makes her squirm, her body tensing.

“Stay still,” I warn, my tone sharp. “If you move again, I’ll tie you down.”

She whimpers, nodding as she presses herself into the bed.

“You deserve to be punished for your behavior, mo stóirín. You do not get to behave the way you have when Noreen and I have done nothing to deserve your insolence. I think fifteen strokes should be enough to teach you a lesson. What do you think?”

She lets out a soft whimper, her legs trembling faintly. As my hand glides gently over her cheeks, she squirms beneath my touch, prompting me to deliver a swift, stinging smack with my palm.

“Hold still,” I snap. “If you don’t, the count starts over.”

Trailing a finger around her clenched hole, I let my touch tease her. “We’ll play with this later,” I whisper, smirking at her soft gasp. Sliding a finger through her slick folds, I groan softly at the wetness that greets me. “You’re already dripping, baby. Is this for me?”

She doesn’t respond, but her body says everything I need to know. Bringing my fingers to my lips, I lick her arousal, savoring the taste.

“Mmm,” I hum. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Does this turn you on? Knowing you’re about to be punished?”

Her soft whimper is answer enough.

I slide my hands over her cheeks, massaging them gently to build the anticipation. “You will count each stroke,” I instruct, “and address me as Sir. If you move, I add more. If you miscount, I add another.”

Raising the belt, I bring it down with a sharpcrackacross her ass. She cries out, squirming against the bed.

“I’ll let you have that as a final warning. Now count.”

“One,” she gasps.

I tilt my head. “One what?”

She grits her teeth, her skin flushing. “One, Sir.”

The belt comes down again, and she writhes beneath me.

---