A thousand volts of electricity shot straight to Thorpe’s cock. He clenched his fists. “You want me to spank her again?”

“Whatever you think is proper punishment for her behavior. Once you’re done, I think you should give her that orgasm she sought. She probably needs the release, and I always like to see Callie in pleasure.”

Thorpe nearly choked on a thick lump of lust. Hadn’t the son of a bitch seen his erection through his trousers? He must have; it felt the size of Texas. Damn it, if he ripped that towel off Callie and put his hands anywhere on her, much less made her come, Thorpe wasn’t sure he could stop.

Where the hell was his self-control? His stare roved all over Callie, her damp skin, her dark tresses clinging, breasts half visible, and those blue eyes of hers wide and crushing his ability to think of anything except having her naked under him, clawing at his back, and begging for more.

“I can definitely do that, but let me be plain,” Thorpe said between gritted teeth, feeling way north of insane. “I want to fuck her.”

He didn’t dare meet Callie’s stare or he wouldn’t be responsible for what happened next.

“You made that clear last night.” Sean reached to open the microwave and insert a paper plate filled with bacon. “If you punish her now, we’ll deal with the rest later.”

Then Sean winked at the girl.

What the hell kind of Twilight Zone shit had this morning become? Whatever. It didn’t matter. Sean had agreed that her behavior needed correcting, so he’d fucking take care of it.

Thorpe sent Callie a hard grin that she would find impossible to interpret as comforting. “Fine. I’m all over this.”

“Glad to hear it. Breakfast should be ready in five.” Sean set a few pieces of bread into the toaster.

But Thorpe wasn’t listening anymore. He had a few precious minutes to put his hands all over Callie. He didn’t intend to waste even a second.

“Drop the towel. Every hesitation, bratty remark, or lapse in your manners is only going to make my discipline more unpleasant. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her eyes went soft and wide as her fingers loosened the towel.

The terry cloth unraveled from her body, slithering to the ground. And there Callie stood before him, her petite form shaking and blessedly bare. Need seized his insides. She belonged under his hands, his body, his command. He’d fought it for years. But as her gaze clung to him now, silently pleading for both his hard boundaries and his mercy, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted the right to touch the girl.

“On your knees, pet.” He’d dreamed of saying those words to her forever.

Slowly, gracefully, she knelt before him, her stare unwavering. Without a word, she pleaded. Her desire and anticipation were a punch to his gut.

Thorpe never took his eyes off her as he yanked a small chair from the little table and sat in it, leaning forward with elbows on his knees to drill her with a hard stare. He steadied himself with a deep breath, finding his balance and center. Knowing he had so few boundaries right now with Callie was immersing him in the most heady Dom space. One wicked idea after another raced through his head.

“Good. What I say will be absolute, Callie. No arguments. No questions. No comebacks. This isn’t a demo, and I’m no longer playing. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her voice sounded so breathy and acquiescent. Need seared itself on her face. This passionate Callie was the one he knew—and loved. The one he burned for.

He sat back in his chair and patted his thigh. “Sit on my lap.”

She rose. It wasn’t quick. Nor was it so slow that he could call it a hesitation, but close. Her lips parted and questions nearly tumbled forth. Callie stifled them. Instead of asking whatever she wanted to know, she merely perched her pretty bare ass on his thigh gingerly, then looked to him for reassurance.

“Yes, like that.” He swallowed back the command to kiss him, to tug down his zipper, to stroke his straining erection before she eased him into the blistering silk of her pussy. But all of that would be what he wanted—not what he’d been granted. Not what she needed. “Now turn to face Sean and put your legs on either side of my knees.”

Callie responded more quickly this time, rotating on his lap, then settling her back against his chest. Thorpe hissed in her ear as she rested her bare skin against his thin, damp shirt. He gripped her hips, barely restraining the urge to shove his cock against the ripe curves of her ass.

He widened the stance of his thighs, parting her legs at the same time. Sean looked up from the eggs, watching raptly. His face told Thorpe that he didn’t really give a shit if the eggs burned.

Settling his lips against her ear, he whispered, “Tilt your head back on my shoulder.”

Callie shivered, but she obeyed without pause. Her shaky little exhalation left him no doubt that his domination aroused her. Unable to resist anymore, he ground his dick into her pert backside, then caressed his way up her waist, her ribs, until he palmed her breasts and trapped her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, turning and tugging.

“You touched yourself to torment me. Didn’t you, Callie?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her breathy reply made his gut and his need tighten.

“Why, to taunt me with what I shouldn’t take or to seduce me?”

He felt her draw in a deep breath, then undulate on his lap, sending hot sensation skittering through him again. He tightened his grip on her nipples, and she gasped.

“Lovely?” Sean prodded.

“Both,” she admitted with a little cry. “I hated the thought that you wouldn’t show me whether you want me or not.”

“So you tried to corner me. Very naughty.” One hand left the soft curve of her breast.

“But—”

“Not a word.” His voice reverberated through the little room. “Running away, stripping in public, staying in hellholes, fighting me, frustrating me . . . You’ve done nothing to earn an orgasm.”

“Good point,” Sean conceded. “Scratch that off the list.”

She moaned in protest.

“You’ve earned this, pet.” Thorpe spanked the pad of her pussy with his fingers in a stinging blow that awakened and inflamed.

Callie gasped, arched, thrusting one breast deeper into his grasp. He gritted his teeth. She responded to him even more beautifully than he remembered, way beyond his wildest dreams. Despite her craving for tenderness, she seemed completely capable of taking the edgy side of his nature—and still asking for more. At the thought, what little blood remained in his body rushed to his cock until he felt staggered and dizzy.

Again, he lightly smacked her pussy enough to sting sweetly. And again. Each time, her folds plumped and slickened a bit more. He couldn’t miss the way her clit swelled and hardened. So he kept on.

“Please, Thorpe . . .” she panted.

“That’s Sir to you right now. And I promise, you’re going to beg, little girl. For my mercy and for the pleasure I can grant you . . . if I choose. Eventually.”

She shuddered, and Thorpe tried to hold it together, fighting the urge to bend her over the little table and work his way into her tight cunt until she’d taken every throbbing inch he had.

“Yes, Sir,” she moaned.

“Better.” He settled his palm over her swollen folds, gratified to feel her slickness coating the slide of his fingers onto her clit. Gently, he circled her sensitive nub. It hardened to stone. Then he slowed his caress, plying with a swirling, stroking, downright leisurely brush of his fingers. Her breathing grew more labored.

“You’ve played with me for the last time, pet. First, you left me without so much as saying good-bye, despite the years I spent sheltering you. Then I found you stripping, of all things, in a place not even clean enough to house rats. I chased you down a fucking alley and told you never to run from me again. What did you do the minute you woke up this morning?” When she hesitated, he barked, “Answer me, Callie.”

“I ran, Sir.”

“Yes. You’re in a shitload of trouble, little girl.”

Callie grabbed his thigh, whimpering as he curled a pair of fingers into the snug depths of her cunt. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak. I’m not done listing all the reasons I’m displeased with your behavior so you’ll understand exactly why I’m going to make this punishment difficult. Don’t interrupt me again.”

She writhed and trembled in his arms. “I won’t, Sir.”

“Then you teased me while you showered, driving me to the brink of sanity. If you’d had any idea just how exasperated I’ve been—worried out of my mind and chasing you all over the damn place, wanting you so fucking much and knowing you were just out of my grasp . . . I’ve reached my limit, Callie. No more.”

He plunged his fingers deep inside her, rooting around until he found the bit of smooth, sensitive tissue high on the front wall of her passage. He rubbed in mercilessly unhurried circles.

Toast popped up. Sean plated food. Thorpe gritted his teeth. He wasn’t ready to let Callie go. She hadn’t been punished enough for all her transgressions . . . and he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching her.

“Breakfast,” Sean said as he set her plate on the table.

“Did you happen to buy clothes pins or chip clips when you went shopping?” Thorpe snapped.

“No, but I found some while prowling around in the drawers here,” Sean said.

“Perfect. I need two.”

Sean turned and rummaged in a drawer as Thorpe shoved Callie’s hair from her neck. As he continued to drag his fingers ruthlessly over her most sensitive spots, he swept his lips up her neck, then nipped at her lobe. On his lap, she gyrated restlessly. Moisture gushed all over his fingers. Her breathing ramped up. She had to be getting close. Now it would get fun . . .