Page 11 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

“Um, yeah. I-I like it when - ow! Ethan!” Her nipple throbbed from where he’d pinched it, hard, and she glared at him. “That hurt!”

“Poor little brat. Is that not what you had in mind? Was Daddy too rough?”

“Yes.”

“Too bad. I like the way your nipples turn all rosy when I pinch them. And they don’t seem to mind the attention.” As if to prove his point, he trapped the opposite peak between his fingers and clamped down.

“Ow! Stop it!”

“No.” This time when he pinched, he gave each nipple a quick twist. If he hadn’t been sitting on her, she probably would have come straight up off the mattress.

“Please, Daddy, it hurts!”

“There’s that sound I love so much. Beg me to stop, brat, and I might listen.”

Another pinch and twist had her hissing at the sharp pain. She gritted her teeth through it, until he finally took mercy on her and released her. “Daddy, p-please,” she managed through panting breaths.

“Since you begged so prettily. But I have a set of clamps I can’t wait to try on you.” Shifting down her body, he lowered his head and captured one of the tortured peaks in his mouth. With a sigh, she relaxed under him, letting his tongue soothe the ache his fingers had created.

Before she realized his intentions, he’d moved between her thighs and dipped his head down to her lap at her pussy. Still sensitive from his earlier torture, the touch of his tongue to her clit ripped more pleas from her throat.

“Oh, God! No, no, I can’t!”

Lifting his head, he cocked an eyebrow at her. “I told you there were two scenarios here. I could deny you release all night, or make you come until you begged me to stop. Which option do you think I chose?”

“I’m begging. I’m begging! Please stop!”

“No.”

And he didn’t stop. No matter how much she fought or begged or cursed, he used his tongue and teeth and fingers to drive her up and over that sharp edge of oblivion again. And when she was quivering, spent, gasping for air, he still didn’t stop. Pleasure and pain mixed until there was no separating one from the other in her mind.

By the time he finally lifted his head again, she could barely move. Every breath ended on a whimper as he pressed slow, lazy kisses back up her stomach to her breasts and finally her lips. She could taste herself on him as their tongues danced together, and damn if it wasn’t the most erotic experience of her life.

“Are you ready to be Daddy’s good girl? Or do you need more… convincing?”

“I’ll b-be good, Daddy.”

“Hmmm. I’m not sure.” Leveraging himself over her, he shifted, pushing his cock into her sore, tender pussy. “One more, baby. Give Daddy one more, so I know you’re ready to be my good girl.”

Even if she’d tried to deny him, her body seemed to have a mind of its own. She was helpless, just the way he wanted her. Helpless to keep that last wave of pleasure from crashing over her as he emptied himself in her.

Chapter Four

Sunlight pierced his eyelids, forcing Ethan to pry one eye open and check the time on the clock. Ten o’clock. When was the last time he’d slept so late, or so well?

Beside him, Izzy stirred, pressing her face into his chest with a low whine. God, he loved those little noises she made. It was like a symphony of pain and pleasure; one he was looking forward to conducting as often as possible for the foreseeable future.

He wasn’t quite sure at what point last night he’d decided she was his, but it seemed like his mind was made up. And his cock certainly wasn’t putting up a fight over it.

Speaking of, said cock was making its needs known and he was entertaining the idea of flipping her onto her back and waking her up with a few more orgasms when a pounding on the door jerked him from his daydreams. Izzy jolted up, her hair a dark, frizzy halo around her makeup-smudged face, her eyes still glazed with sleep.

“Wha’s that?”

“Someone’s at the door. Stay here.”

Without waiting for her agreement, he rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. The pounding on his front door didn’t stop until he jerked it open.

Guilt swamped him at the sight of his oldest friend’s stricken expression. Shit. He’d been so caught up in Izzy, he hadn’t bothered to have her text her family.

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