Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“I believe Scowl will want you on the road to your next concert tomorrow,” Zayne says. “There have been too many days delay.”
“Back to work,” I say ruefully. It’s far too pedestrian a sentiment, but I express it, nonetheless. I’m craving normality. I’d give anything to work behind a counter right now, or stock a shelf. Hell, I’d happily be up a power pole in high winds. None of the everyday jobs I used to engage in were ever worse than this nonsense. This is not a job, or a calling, or a career. This is the complete consumption of my life.
“Before you go anywhere near a stage, we need to address your behavior.”
“Do we? Or could we just have said I learned my lesson?”
“Maybe we could have said that, if you had simply come here to have your leg treated. But then you threw a television out of the hotel window, and frankly, Lyric, I think you are as much a danger to yourself as anybody is to you.”
“Alright okay, well, maybe…”
“A spanking barely seems to cover what you deserve,” Zayne says. There is a new formality to his speech and a sternness to his bearing. It’s like he’s flipped from lover and protector to something more, something like a master.
“I know. I’m the worst.”
“Don’t do that,” he says strictly. “Don’t put yourself down. You are far from the worst, but you are my most reckless charge ever. I lost myself in you the moment I met you. I broke my contract for you. I gave you my body, my heart, and my allegiance.”
His heart. Does he love me?
“I love you!” I blurt the words. The moment they are out of my mouth I realize that it sounds as though I am trying to get out of being punished.
Zayne pauses for a moment before bending down and taking my chin between his scaled thumb and forefinger. His tail wraps around me slowly, drawing me into an alien embrace.
“I adore you,” he says, his voice soft and gravelly. “I love every part of you, including the parts I am about to punish severely.”
I let out a giggle that I know isn’t appropriate, but I cannot help it. I am absolutely swimming in the glee and glow of being loved by a creature like Zayne.
“You think that amusing?”
“No,” I say, trying to hide my mirth. It just turns into a smirk, which does not help at all. “I’m just so happy.”
“I am going to make you very sore and very sorry,” he warns me, stroking his scaled finger beneath my chin.
“Yes,” I say, fighting my smile. “I know.”
“Brat,” he says tenderly, sweetly, before grabbing me and tossing me over his thigh, starting matters with a flurry of hard slaps to the seat of my pants. It doesn’t hurt at first. I’ve been wearing slightly thicker pants on purpose. I know that won’t actually stop anything. I’m going to be naked very soon, and entirely at his mercy.
I know this is supposed to actually be some kind of penance, both to assuage my guilt, and to teach me what Zayne imagines might be a lesson. But for now it just stings in a hot sort of way. Every time his palm lands, I jerk against his hard thigh. He is shirtless, as usual. A creature of his kind needs no clothing to be warm, but he is wearing his customary pants, as swinging dragon dick may offend.
I don’t think his pants will be on very long. Mine are already being peeled from my hips, drawn down over my tingling rear with a very deliberate slowness. Zayne knows how to handle me. He knows when to be hard, and he knows when to be soft. He knows how to draw things out and force me to experience every hot, humiliating part of them.
He settles the waistband of my pants beneath my cheeks, an inch or so down my thighs, ensuring that the most sensitive parts of my body are bared to his dragon palm.
“I will not tolerate recklessness,” he growls, landing a hard slap to the most delicate skin he can find in this position, the place where my thighs meet my rear. The impact of his palm makes me yelp as the sharper sensation flashes through my flesh. I knew the punishment part of these proceedings was coming, I just didn’t think it would come so fast.
“I love you,” he says, slapping me as hard as I have ever been spanked. It is the kind of slap that can only be delivered by the hand of a mate who loves me. My yelps very quickly become yowls.
“Zayne! Zayne!” I shout his name. “That’s too hard!”
“It’s not too hard,” he says. “You’re barely red. You’re just not used to being punished. That’s going to change. I don’t think you can behave yourself without a regular reminder of the consequences of your actions. I’ve tried to let you have your head, but at almost every turn you have made a decision so damaging it has killed someone, or nearly done so.”