When her eyes flashed and she drilled her finger into his chest again, he knew exactly how to meet that challenge.

Chapter Nine

Izzy wasn’t sure what reaction she was going to get when she poked her finger into Ethan’s broad chest that final time, but whatever it was had to be better than the silence she’d lived with for the past week. When he’d walked out her door and out of her life, she’d wanted to curl up and die. It had seemed like he’d taken her one true shot at happiness with him when he’d left.

After a couple of days of wallowing in self-pity, she’d started to get mad. Yeah, she’d fucked up, and things could have turned out much worse than they had. But dammit, he should have given her a chance to explain. If they’d just talked about it, like grown ass adults, they could have worked through it.

She was still pissed about it, but she figured he could help her work off some of the mad. And when he reached out and wrapped her ponytail around his hand and yanked her into him, all she could think was Thank God.

“What have I told you about following instructions, brat? I think maybe it’s time for a lesson you won’t forget any time soon.”

Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and excitement pooled in her belly at his threat. “You think so, huh?”

Using her ponytail for leverage, he shoved her toward the living room. “Strip.”

God, how she’d missed this. Even just the small taste she’d had with him had been enough for her to realize how much she needed his dominance, his punishments, in her life.

Crossing her arms when he released her, she tilted her chin up at him. “No.”

“My little brat.” Was it her imagination, or was there more pride and affection than annoyance in his voice? “You have until the count of five to be naked, or I’ll have to get mean. One.”

Anticipation and fear swirled inside of her, but she didn’t move.

“Two.” Lips curved in a wicked smile, he took a step toward her.

“Three.” Large, callused hands moved to the buckle of his belt.

“Four.” The metal clinked as he slid the leather free.

“Five.”

Faster than she would have given him credit for, he whipped the belt free from the loops on his khakis and wrapped his free hand around her arm. There was no tenderness, no gentleness when he dragged her to the couch and pushed her over the back, forcing her ass into the air.

The wide, stiff leather connected with her ass one, two, three times in a row. Her gasp of surprise mingled with the punishing snap of the belt.

“When Daddy tells you to do something, you obey.” Three more strokes of the belt, enough to have her ass burning beneath her stiff uniform. “I’m not sure you’re learning your lesson with all these clothes on, brat.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure my paper-thin uniform is giving me so much protection.”

“Naughty little girls get spanked on their bare bottoms, no exceptions.”

A cool breeze caressed her thighs when he pushed the skirt of her uniform up around her hips. There was a soft snick behind her, and the cute, lacy panties she’d put on that morning to cheer herself up fell away.

“Did you just cut those off? Those are my favorite pair!”

“I’ll buy you more.”

Three more strokes of the belt, all together, each bite of pain sending a shockwave straight to her clit and pulling a deep, throaty moan from her.

“Are you ready to be a good girl?”

How was that even a question when they’d barely gotten started? “You don’t scare me, Sheriff Clarke.”

Another set of three, this time right at the tops of her thighs. Hissing at the sharper, fiercer sting, she bucked against his hold. “That hurt!”

“Good. That’s just what my brat needs to be a good girl, isn’t it?”

Heat pulsed between her thighs at the growl in his voice. God, the way this man made her feel. How has she lived so many years without knowing his brand of sweet torture?