Page 187 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

I have no hesitation with Summer, either, but this game is different. This is slow, torturous seduction until she begs me to take her, to break her in, to mark her in every way possible. I want her to never be able to compare any other man to her first lover.

Then I need to let her go when the summer ends. I can’t be her man. She deserves so much better.

And why the fuck does that make my insides churn?

“Is it?” I ask.

“Stephan, please…” Her voice is guttural, filled with need.

“Please what?”

She tries to pull up her long skirt. I slap away her hand, grab her wrists, then spin her around to face the wall.

“Ten more for disobedience.”

Her answer is a muffled incomprehensible noise that rises to a moan as I deliver on my promise.

Then I pull up her skirt, yank her back, bend her over, and put my hand where she wants it the most. She shudders and lets out a whimper. My bunny is soaked, her pussy swollen. She is so ripe for the taking.

But not yet.

I’ve come to love the seduction, the painful tease.

Her sixth lesson isn’t spanking.

I dig through the contents of her green backpack to find a sandwich, a thermos with lukewarm chocolate, and several worn paperbacks, all cheap romances and thrillers.

“Is this all you read?” I say as I put back her stuff.

She places her hands on her hips. “What about it?”

I narrow my eyes. Again, with the bratty answers. “It’s trash.”

“I read other books, too. They’re too heavy to bring.”

I drop the backpack. “Go sit on the couch.”

She doesn’t move, confusion written on her face. I give her a stern look, and she springs to action.

On my bookshelf are a few classics. I don’t carry many items, moving around like I do. These, I’ve bought since moving here. I pick out Lord of the Flies and hand it to her.

“Read this today. Tomorrow, you will analyze it. That will be the lessons for today and tomorrow.”

Her disappointed look makes me burst out in a laugh. “Now, go.”

She scrambles to her feet, glares at me, grabs the book, snatches up her backpack, and storms out the door without a word.

I let her go early, but I have things to do today. Things I’ve never done for another human being.

I’ve never heard the words ‘I love you’ aimed at me. The closest thing I ever got was when little Savannah Wilder threw her arms around me, sighed, and told me I was the best.

When I lost her, I lost myself. I was in the dark for a long time—the kind of dark few return from. I was always predestined to be a fuck-up, and I lived the myth until nine months ago.

Summer caught my eye. At first, it was her wide smile, showing too much teeth, a little gummy, and the dimples. The dimples. It felt like someone whacked me at the back of my knees as the memories from twelve years ago rushed back. I almost folded.

That was when I knew I had to stick around. I wanted to know the color of her eyes—hazel, what her voice sounded like—light and with a sexy rasp on occasion, an undefined accent, her name, everything.

I was shocked to learn she was in high school, and equally pleased when I realized she was a year older than the yahoos in her class.

---