I couldn’t answer, could barely breathe as his skilled fingers circled my clit, then dipped into my embarrassingly wet entrance. My hips bucked against his hand involuntarily.
The number on his watch suddenly turned red and began to flash. My pussy clenched hard around his invasive fingers asunderstanding dawned on me through the haze of unwanted pleasure.
“The flashing…” I gasped, my hips jerking uncontrollably, “it’s telling you I’m about to?—”
Before I could finish the sentence, before the building wave could crest, Jax abruptly withdrew his hand. I whimpered at the loss, my body trembling on the edge of release.
“Look how wet you’ve gotten, baby girl,” he said, holding his glistening fingers up between our faces. His hand was coated with my arousal, creamy and undeniable. “All this from being caught running away. From knowing what’s coming next.”
“Please,” I whispered, as usual with no idea what I was begging for.
“Clean Daddy’s fingers,” he ordered, pressing them against my lips. “Taste how excited you are about your punishment and your new daddies’ cocks.”
My face burning with shame, I opened my mouth and took his fingers inside. I licked my own wetness from his skin, the musky taste of my arousal filling my senses as Rudy and Mateo watched from the doorway.
When his hand was clean, Jax withdrew his fingers and stood, towering over me. His hands went to his belt buckle.
“Get ready for Daddy’s belt, Little Lulu,” he said, his voice becoming a growl that made everything inside me clench with fear and anticipation. “Remember what you learned the first time I whipped you. You’ve been a bad girl, and it’s time to learn your lesson.”
CHAPTER 18
Louisa
I moved toward the head of the bed on shaky legs, to fetch the pillows just as Jax had taught me that first time. My mind was racing with conflicted feelings. Even as I piled the pillows with trembling hands, then got over them, my bottom raised and vulnerable, I couldn’t reconcile the desperate need coursing through me with my earlier bid for freedom. What was happening to me? Why did the thought of Jax’s belt across my bottom make me wet instead of terrified?
“Arch your back more,” Jax instructed, the leather of his belt sliding through the loops with a hiss that made me shiver. “Present your naughty bottom properly for correction.”
I obeyed, lowering my chest all the way to the mattress and raising my hips higher, exposing myself completely to him and his waiting bodyguards. I heard Jax’s shoes on the carpeted floor as he positioned himself beside the bed, the doubled leather belt hanging from his fist. My breath caught in my throat as I felt thecool leather touch my skin, tracing a line across both cheeks of my bottom.
“This is going to hurt, Little Lulu,” Jax said, his voice calm and deliberate. “But it’s necessary for you to understand the consequences of running away from your daddies.”
The belt whistled through the air and landed with a crack across the fullest part of my bottom. I gasped, jerking forward slightly before forcing myself back into position. The sting bloomed across my skin, turning quickly to heat that radiated outward.
“You see,” Jax continued conversationally, as if we were discussing the weather, “when you ran away today, you didn’t just disobey me. You put yourself in danger.”
Another stroke fell, slightly lower than the first. I whimpered, tears already forming in my eyes.
“The world out there isn’t safe for little girls like you,” he said, his voice taking on an almost tender quality despite the cruelty of the belt in his hand. “There are men who wouldn’t understand your bad girl needs the way your daddies do.”
The third stroke caught the sensitive crease where my bottom met my thighs. I cried out, my fingers clutching at the bedspread.
“Men who would use you and discard you,” Jax continued. “Who wouldn’t care about your pleasure or your growth.”
The fourth stroke overlapped with the first, intensifying the burn. Tears spilled freely down my cheeks now, but I held position, my bottom raised high for his punishment.
“That’s why you need your daddies,” he said, landing another precise stroke that made me sob. “To keep you safe. To teach you. To help you understand your true nature.”
I felt his hand on my burning flesh then, rubbing gently across the welts he’d raised. His touch was cool against my heated skin, soothing even as it reminded me of the pain he’d inflicted.
“Rudy, Mateo,” Jax called, “come feel how warm her bottom is getting. This is how a bad girl’s bottom should feel before it’s properly used.”
I buried my face in the bedspread as I heard their footsteps approach. First one large hand, then another joined Jax’s, caressing my punished flesh. Three hands on me at once, exploring every inch of my bottom, occasionally dipping lower to feel the wetness that had gathered shamefully between my thighs.
“See how her body responds?” Jax said to them. “The belt is teaching her something her mind refuses to accept.”
His words penetrated the fog of pain and humiliation surrounding me. This wasn’t just punishment for punishment’s sake. This was something else—a deliberate breaking down of my resistance, yes, but also an awakening to a new reality. I slowly began to understand that Jax was trying to help me learn something real, rather than just punishing me to ‘teach me a lesson’ in some outmoded, old-fashioned sense. This wasn’t the blind discipline of a parent too frustrated to know what else to do. This was calculated, deliberate education—a lesson written on my flesh with leather and pain.
The belt fell again, and I cried out, my back arching involuntarily.
