Page 193 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

“This is your final punishment for trying to escape me.” He grunts. “You will not come today.”

“No,” I moan. “Please.” I’m already getting close, the rubbing of the base of his cock against my clit combined with the stretching of my channel overbearing.

He catches my nipple between his lips and pulls it in, sucking hard. My eyes roll back, and I tense as my release inches nearer.

Stephan turns and pulls out, then throws me on the bed. With a few strokes of his hand his cock twitches and hot seed spurts out to cover my chest.

It’s his ultimate demonstration of his ownership. I can’t help myself. I put my hands between my legs to get myself off. He’s on me with a growl that shoots a bolt of fear through me.

“No,” he says.

So, I don’t. I can’t.

These games we play. They terrify me and they exhilarate me. I’ve never belonged more, never felt so adored, and accepted for me.

And still…

After, when we’re dressed and sit with a meal of red meat with lots of black pepper, and a mix of black beans and corn fried in chili and butter, his earlier words ring ominously in my ears.

My braids hang in my face when I look at the plate, and I raise my gaze to study him from behind the cover.

Stephan Kirby is everything my mother should have warned me about, had she had an ounce of self-preservation. Instead, it’s me who’s been caring for her throughout most of my life. I never had a dad. At least not a biological one. I’ve had a ton of dads if you count all the other men in our lives. They were all bad-boy exciting. Tats, MC, weed, booze, rock n roll. Mom is a serial monogamist and a hopeless romantic. It was always her and me against the world. She likes to garden, and I’ve inherited my love for everything that grows from her. She’s never really lived with a garden of her own, though, which breaks my heart. She’s a fragile creative soul who can never keep a job, laughs a little too loudly, would give her last cent to a friend in need and then go hungry herself. We did that sometimes.

Seeing Stephan, falling for him so hard, I think the world would end if I don’t see him again, and again, frightens me. Have I inherited my mom’s flightiness? Will I, too, pass from one tall, hot, tattooed biker to the next?

My insides tell me it’s this one or no one. I may be young, but I have an old soul, and I feel it down to my core.

When you know, you know.

It’s not the prettiest of pictures people see when they think of Gracie Jones, aka my mother, but they don’t know her. She has given me everything, and it’s my turn to take care of her.

Stephan will understand.

We’ll talk, and I’ll make him see things my way. He’s the same kind of person in so many ways, as me and Mom. He’ll grow to love her.

Chapter Six

Stephan

A week has passed since our short but uncomfortable conversation in my bed. The one about me taking her away from this dump. We’ve both been slightly off, dancing around each other, not touching the topic again. But I haven’t forgotten, and neither has she, it seems.

I caress a braid off her cheek and tuck it into the bun in her neck. “Something wrong?”

She shakes her head so emphatically the braid comes loose again.

She’s lying. I should spank her the rest of the night for that, but I’m not in the mood for games of any kind. This whole thing has taken a more serious turn than I anticipated. I fully intended to play with her for a few weeks, then leave—mainly to protect her from the monster inside me, but something’s been holding me back.

I feel shit I never felt before.

A lot of shit.

Worst thing is… it isn’t shit at all. It’s fucking awesome, and I don’t know what to do with it.

The only thing I do know is I am taking her with me when I leave, and that’s gonna be fucking soon because I’ve been itching to get back on the road for a while now.

But she’s going with me. If she objects, it’s because she doesn’t know what’s best for her. She’ll come around when the whole big world lies before her, when she realizes we can go anywhere, be whoever we want to be.

Summer turns over on her back and pulls the comforter with her, bundling up like a burrito, looking her usual adorable self. “Tell me something about yourself.”

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