Page 19 of Arch
“Maybe I don’t want to be your damn lapdog,” I spit. “You think you can just bark orders and I’ll roll over? That’s not me,Daddy.”
The word’s a mistake, and I know it the second it leaves my mouth.
Arch’s eyes darken, and before I can blink, he’s on me, his hand fisting my jacket, slamming me against the wall.
My breath catches, his body pressed close, all hard muscle and leather, his face inches from mine.
Arch’s grip’s tight, unyielding, and I can feel his breath, heavy and warm, mingling with mine. The air crackles, every nerve in me alive with the heat of him, the anger, the want.
“You keep pushing, boy,” Arch growls, his voice low, dangerous, “And you’re gonna learn what happens when you don’t listen.”
His other hand braces against the wall, caging me in, and I’m caught, my heart pounding, torn between shoving him off and pulling him closer.
“Whatever,” I say, my heart pounding but the defiance still clinging on in my voice.
But before I know what’s happening, Arch has spin me around and pulled my jeans down, briefs too. The cold breeze catches my ass cheeks as they’re on full display.
“Count them,” Arch growls, his voice pure Daddy now. “We’re going up to ten. And I expect to be called Daddy too.”
“Y-y-y-yes, Daddy,” I say, overwhelmed by knowing that this has to happen.
“Got a safeword?” Arch barks.
“Broccoli,” I answer, dizzy with expectation and a chunk of fear too.
“Now count!” Arch bellows, his voice almost certainly audible from inside the clubhouse as he brings his hand down on my exposed ass cheek.
“One, Daddy!” I cry out, the shock of the first spank robbing me of any inclination to sass or put up any resistance to Arch’s Daddy energy.
And as Arch spanks me with unerring accuracy, I count along with him, knowing full well that a group of Wolf Riders have gathered just to our side, all eagerly watching my ass getting turned redder than a tomato.
“Eight, Daddy!” I cry out, my cheeks wobbling as Arch makes sure to land on their fleshiest curve each and every time. “Nine, Daddy! Ten, Daddy!”
“Good boy,” Arch says, stepping back and seemingly taking in the view of my red ass. “A little privacy, guys. You’ve seen the boy take his medicine, now it’s time for me to look after him, Wolf Rider style.”
Arch’s dominance crashes over me like a wave, and for a moment, I’m lost in it, my defiance crumbling under the weight of his control.
I sag against the wall, my breath shaky, my body still buzzing from his fearsome spanking.
“Daddy,” I whisper, the word slipping out before I can stop it, a surrender I didn’t plan.
I look to the side and see Arch’s eyes soften, just a fraction, but it’s enough to make me feel seen, like he’s not just breaking me down but building something new.
“I’ve got some cooling gel with your name on it, young man,” Arch says.
But then the moment shatters.
My pride rears up, the part of me that’s been running from rules my whole life.
I pull my jeans up, shove past him, my shoulder brushing his chest, and storm toward my bike.
“I need space,” I spit, not looking back.
My head’s a mess—his hands, his voice, the way he makes me want to kneel and fight all at once.
I swing onto my bike, the engine roaring to life, and peel out, the gravel spitting behind me…
The road stretches dark and endless, but it doesn’t clear my head.
