Page 73 of Tyson
She was bent over the kitchen table. Naked. Glistening between her thighs like she'd been playing for a while. Purple hair spilled across the worn wood, and she hadn't even turned to look at me, just presented herself like an offering. Like she hadn't been sending me filthy pictures while I tried to keep her safe from men who wanted to own her.
"Did you miss me?" she continued, wiggling her ass in a way that made my vision narrow to a pinpoint.
Fuck Duke. Fuck the call. Fuck everything except the bratty girl who'd deliberately pushed every button I had.
I crossed the room in three strides, hand tangling in that purple chaos before she could straighten. She gasped as I pulled her upright, her back colliding with my chest, my arm banding around her waist to keep her pinned.
"You've been very bad," I growled against her ear, feeling her shiver at the dominance bleeding into my voice. "Sending pictures during church. Disobeying direct orders."
"Oh no," she whispered, pressing her ass back against my already-hard cock. The little minx knew exactly what she was doing. "Anything but consequences."
"You think this is a game?" The words came out rougher than intended, colored by the knowledge of what waited outside our door. "Teasing me when I'm trying to keep you safe?"
She must have heard something in my voice because she stilled, the playful attitude shifting. "Maybe I like riling you up," she admitted, breathless but with an edge of real emotion. "Maybe I wanted you thinking about me instead of playing tough guy."
"I'm always thinking about you." The admission tore from somewhere deep, somewhere I'd been trying to ignore. "That's the fucking problem."
"How is that a problem—oh!"
I spun her to face me, lifting her onto the table in one smooth motion. Her legs fell open automatically, and I stepped between them, caging her with my body. This close, I could see the flush spreading down her chest, the way her pupils had blown wide, the slight tremble in her hands as she gripped the table edge.
"Because when I'm distracted by images of you touching yourself, I'm not focused on threats." My hands framed her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. "And babygirl, the threats just got bigger."
The playfulness drained from her expression completely. "What happened?"
"Later." I couldn't think about Cruz and his cartel friends right now. Not with her naked and willing and mine. "Right now, we're dealing with your punishment."
Her throat worked as she swallowed. "I thought you'd forget about that."
"I never forget." My thumb traced her lower lip, feeling how her breath quickened at the touch. "And you're going to learn what happens when you disobey me."
"Yes, Daddy." The submission in her voice went straight to my cock. This complicated, fierce woman trusting me enough to let go, to accept consequences, to give me control when everything else felt like chaos.
"Good girl. Now, let's discuss these consequences..."
Chapter 13
Lena
Theword'consequences'rolledthrough me like thunder, making every nerve ending spark to life. My bare skin prickled against the cool wood of the kitchen table, hyperaware of how exposed I was, how vulnerable. But it wasn't fear that made my breath catch—it was anticipation mixed with something deeper. Something that recognized this moment as a threshold we were about to cross together.
"Look at me," Tyson commanded softly, his fingers gentle under my chin as he tilted my face up to meet his gaze.
I was still perched on the table, legs dangling, completely naked while he remained fully dressed. His eyes held mine with an intensity that made my stomach flip.
"This isn't about anger. I need you to understand that." His thumb brushed along my jaw, a soothing contrast to the authority in his voice.
"I know," I whispered, but even I could hear the flicker of uncertainty that colored the words. Because part of me didwonder—was he upset about the pictures? About my defiance? About the danger I'd put us both in with my bratty behavior?
"No, really look at me." He waited, patient as granite, until I forced myself to meet his eyes fully. No hiding, no deflecting with humor. Just me and him and this moment balanced between us like a blade. "What's about to happen is because you broke a rule we agreed on. This is discipline, not punishment. It's about reinforcing our dynamic, maintaining the structure that keeps us both safe. I'm not angry. I could never hurt you in anger."
The distinction mattered. I could see it in the careful way he chose his words, the steady control in every movement. This wasn't Cruz's version of dominance, wielded like a weapon to break me down. This was something else entirely—structure, safety, care wrapped in command.
"I trust you," I said, and meant it down to my bones. "But I've never... not like this."
The admission felt huge between us. Sure, I'd played at being spanked before, sexy taps during vanilla hookups that were more performance than power exchange. But real discipline? The kind meant to reinforce dynamics and create safety through structure? That was uncharted territory, and we both knew it.
His expression softened without losing its intensity. "We'll go slow. You remember your safe word?"
