“Which part? All the illegal shit I did? The keeping a monumental secret from you? Endangering you, your family, and my family? The selfishness that goes along with all of that? I’d say about as serious as it can get.”
“Lean over the bed. Turn your feet inward. Hands tucked under you. Do not reach back because I risk spanking your hands and hurting you.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
She does as instructed, and I have the finest view I’ve ever seen except for looking at the front of her. I step to her right and place my hand in the center of her back, the pressure light. I use my left hand to land the first spank. It’s firm, but not as hard as it’ll get. I watch her expression since her face is turned toward me. She closed her eyes, and her hands are beneath her shoulders, gripping the sheets. The anticipation is worse than the swats right now. I’m slow to land the next five, building her nervousness rather than alleviating it.
The next five are swift, my large hand landing across both cheeks rather than alternating sides like I did to warm her ass up. Her skin’s a rosy pink now. I’m watching carefully to ensure I won’t leave any bruises. I study her face, observing every flinch. I listen to every wheezing inhale and how she struggles not to cry. It’s clear she has a high tolerance for pain because I’m in no way gentle.
“Maddy, do you feel better yet?”
She tries to shake her head, but she can’t do much with her cheek pressed against the mattress.
“Answer with words, so I’m certain I understand.”
“Yes, Daddy. And no, I don’t feel better yet.”
“Do you think you deserve more than this?”
“Yes.”
“What will it take to feel absolved,chiquita?”
“More than just your hand.”
All the men in my family are kinky fuckers—literally. But it’s not like we keep a communal stash of toys anywhere. Certainly not where our parents come to vacation with us. We bring no one with us, so no sexual partners have been here before Maddy. With no crops, whips, or paddles, my only choice is my belt. I’m wary of indulging her wish because I fear underestimating my strength. My gaze skims over her, looking for the aftermath of years of abuse. I noticed the bruising on her wrists have faded, and I see no scars. At least not on her skin, though I know there must be plenty on her soul.
I sweep my hand over her ass, feeling the heat emanating from it. It will burn by the time I’m done. I continue to observe her as I unfasten my belt and pull it loose from my cargo pants. I flatten and wrap the buckle end around my hand. I have far too much experience doing this. The single layer will be intense immediately. It’ll sting like a motherfucker.
She shifts her weight nervously. She opened her eyes, so she knows what’s about to happen.
“Are you certain, little one?”
“Yes, Javi.”
We’re not truly in a D/s relationship because I wouldn’t allow her to use my name in a situation like this. She’d call me Daddy, sir, or master if we were. I don’t think she’s earned this, so I won’t insist. We agreed to domestic discipline, so if this is what she needs to make recompense, then so be it.
“No matter how tempting it is, do not reach back, Maddy.”
“I know.”
Chapter Fourteen
Maddy
What the fuck did I agree to?
Domestic discipline.
Why the fuck did you ask for this?
That second question whirls around in my mind as I brace myself for the belt to land across my ass. I used to have a lot more meat on it, and I wish I did now. There’s not nearly enough to absorb the imminent pain. I inhale as I watch Javi raise his arm. There’s about six inches of the belt hanging from his hand. I clutch the sheets even tighter as I hear the swish as it moves through the air, then there’s the hiss I make as I grit my teeth.
Motherfucker.
Not Javi. The pain. It’s like a band of fire just ripped across my ass. But I asked for exactly this. I want to feel like I’ve paid my penance for all the wrong decisions I’ve made for the past four years. The decision to stay with Drew after the first time he insulted me. The decision to stay with him after the first time he slapped me. The first time he hit me. The first time he made me go on a mission. The first time he made me sell drugs. The first time he did any of the fucked-up shit he did.
I want the penance for not mustering the courage to tell my family the moment shit went sideways. I want the penance for not confessing everything to Javi the moment I had the chance. Hell, I could have asked for his help the moment he walked into my hotel room. He would have given it, even if he was there for his own illegal transaction.
