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She sighed.
    He brushed his mouth across her lips. “I love you,” he said.
    “I love you too.”
    “Let’s get this over with.” He pushed her out of his arms and led her to the chair. The ankle bracelet he’d given her tinkled with each step. Her eyes filled with tears when she spotted the belt, and she swallowed. “We’ll start with a hand spanking,” he said.
    He sat, and without further direction, she laid herself over his lap, bracing her hands on one side, her feet on the other.
    He warmed up her ass with a brisk massage. She relaxed against his thighs in pliant submission. He’d never loved this woman more than he did in this moment.
    “Thank you,” he said hoarsely over the lump in his throat.
    “For what?”
    He gripped her waist. “For trusting me.” He brought his hand down on her ass, leaving a red outline. She cried out.
    He slapped harder than he did for pleasure. Reflexively she attempted to block the blows, so he pinned her wrists against her lower back and continued to spank.
    He spread his swats around the plump surface of her ass but also delivered two and three spanks to the same spot to heighten the sting. When crimson handprints had blended to an even stain, he grabbed the belt and doubled it over. She had confessed. She had been good. He would be lenient with just a few lashes.
    Though she couldn’t see, she must have sensed what was about to happen, because she stiffened.
    He struck her ass with the loop of leather. The loud crack melded with her cry of pain. A scarlet strip stood out on her rosy skin. Red on red.
    He snapped the leather against her other cheek, and her color deepened. She shrieked with every blow when he whipped each side four times, then struck the sit spot at the tops of her thighs. She would remember this spanking for a long time, would feel its effects for a while too. He would carry it in his heart—the crack of leather on flesh, her tears, the throb in his palm from the hand spanking.
    But most of all he would remember her obedience. He vowed to do right by her—to love, respect, and discipline her. He promised himself he would be the man, the head of household she deserved.
    He dropped the belt to the carpet. “It’s over now, babe.”
    Sobs racked her body. Her ass glowed fiery red, and three of the lashes had welted. He fingered her raised flesh, and she jerked. He lifted her, and she curled into his arms and cried against his chest.
    “I-I’m s-s-sorry for not t-telling you,” she said.
    “I know you are. We can consider the matter settled.” He rubbed circles on her back. He kissed her ear and rocked her. “When the bill comes, I’ll pay it without mention.”
    “The spanking wasn’t fun like the other times.”
    Context, emotion, force—all defined the difference between erotic and disciplinary spanking. “No, punishment isn’t meant to be fun.” Cradling her, he stood. “Let’s put something on your ass.”
    “What?” she asked.
    “I have some gel. It will soothe the pain.”
    She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m not complaining, but what’s the point of spanking me if you eliminate the pain afterward?”
    He chuckled. “It doesn’t make sense, does it? Let’s say, since it’s your first punishment, I’m inclined to go easy. Besides, it won’t eliminate the discomfort, only ease it.”
    After placing her prone on the bed, he retrieved the items he wanted from the bathroom and sat beside her. He squeezed a dollop of aloe into his palm and smoothed the gel over a butt cheek. She gasped and tensed, but then relaxed, wiggled under his hands. “That’s cold! It hurts to be touched, but it feels good too.”
    “Would you rather I not apply the gel?”
    “No, I like it. I want you to touch me, even if it hurts.”
    At her words, blood coursed southward. How little it took to arouse him. He rubbed aloe into her other cheek, desire tightening in his body. “Your ass is burning hot.”
    “You don’t need to tell me.”
    With