Page 310 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

“Is that the year you were born?”

“No. The year I was turned, actually.”

“Oh, right. You told me that—sorry.”

“Will you remember it, or should I write it down?”

“I'll remember it this time.”

“Okay, so here are the rules: no more than one hour total to shower, get ready and eat breakfast. Then you'll sit and work on your thesis. You may take a 10-minute break every hour, but that's it. Understand?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes?” he asked in a “Oh no you didn't” kind of tone.

She froze and then started backing away. He could feel her fear—real fear, not mixed with any sexual thrill that he could sense. She was probably so sore that the thought of a spanking was too terrifying at the moment.

“Oh no. No, Dom,” she backed her way into the kitchen table. “Huh uh. I do not consent. No.”

He pinned her against the kitchen table and leaned down, looking into her eyes. “You still don't trust me?” he asked softly.

She faltered then, uncertainty crossing her face. He sensed her fear recede. She dropped her eyes. He turned her slowly around and bent her over the kitchen table, reaching around to unbutton her shorts. He slid his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slowly slid them both down together. Her fear flared again, this time with a thrill of sexual energy and the wonderful smell that accompanied it.

Her sweet little bottom was still red from the spanking he'd given her earlier, although the color had started to fade from beet to blush. It was amazing how quickly that tender flesh could regenerate. He gave her three slow but hard spanks and then rubbed. Then he pulled up her panties and shorts. Her relief poured out of her in a rush. She turned around and fell against him in an embrace. “I love you,” she breathed. Then she froze, and fear of exposure came out of her like a blast. “I mean—I didn't mean it like—”

“I'm pretty fond of you, myself,” he interrupted her lightly, running a fang along the outside of her ear.

His bed was tremendously comfortable, with sheets that must be 1000 thread count, and a firm, balanced mattress. He actually tucked her in. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been tucked in, but she felt suddenly so well cared for that her eyes burned with tears. Of course, there was never any hiding anything from Dom.

“What is it?”

She blinked the tears back. “Nothing. I just really appreciate this,” she said. Then she cursed inwardly, thinking that was two clingy things in a row she'd just let slip out of her foolish mouth. She cringed a little, waiting to see what kind of brush-off that inspired from her commitment-phobic vampire.

But Dom just blinked at her, then leaned down slowly and kissed her softly on the mouth. “Sweet dreams,” he said. “I'll be in bed by dawn. Reach for me if you like to cuddle.”

With that, he stood and switched off the light, which was a good thing, because she was sure she was gaping at his offer.

She woke up around 10 AM, with Dom's arm thrown over her waist, and she remembered with a smile that she'd curled into him when he'd come to bed. She got up and tried out the soap and shampoos in Dom's shower briefly before heading down to the kitchen. He had an espresso machine, which pretty much made her day. She made herself a steaming latte and sat down at her laptop.

And then stared at the thesis proposal. Getting a master's in music had not been her original goal, but she had enjoyed undergrad so much that she'd been drawn back to study more. She liked the university environment—pushing ideas around with musicians she respected and admired. After a few years of cobbling a living together teaching piano lessons and singing for The Morphs, she had decided she was ready to go back. She'd received a full scholarship, which greatly sweetened the deal.

She sighed and clicked open her email.

And then got on Facebook.

Then she returned to the proposal again. She sighed. She just couldn't think. She got up and started wandering through Dom's house, looking at the art on the walls, the sculptures, his books. She was shocked to find a diploma hanging on the wall saying that Dom had received a doctorate in Philosophy of the Mind from an elite university in 2005. She wasn't even sure what that was, but she was sure that she had had no idea that Dom had a Ph.D. in anything.

Whatever she might guess Philosophy of the Mind encompassed, his book selection seemed to reflect it. There were books on meditation, metaphysics, religion, natural healing, energy, quantum physics, and basically any alternative methodology you could name.

Hearing music, she followed the sound of it through the sculpting studio and out another door that led to Fox's section of the compound. Fox was sitting on a couch playing folk music on an acoustic guitar. She'd thought Fox was a genius before, and still did, but now that she knew he was over one hundred years old, she understood how he had mastered such a huge number of musical instruments. The guy could play almost any style of music you could name. Sometimes it made her self-conscious because she knew so little in comparison. Not that he ever acted like he was better than her.

He looked up in surprise to see her there. “Kate!”

She tried not to blush. “Hi.”

He let her off with just a grin. “Wanna play?” he said, nodding to another guitar.

“Sure.” She picked it up out of its case and tuned it.

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