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But instead of shifting his hands to my neck, I found myself suddenly winded, bouncing on his shoulder, staring down at the forest floor. The soles of my feet hurt twice as much as they had a moment ago, now that I was no longer ignoring their complaints in order to get to freedom.
A sharp slap against my buttocks forced a gasp from my lungs as the stinging pain radiated outward from the swat.
“Bad girl. Now I’m going to have to punish you.”
Trepidation and fear spiraled, as did a huge well of anger that had lain dormant within me for months.
I had been close. So, so close.
I started screaming. Trying to kick. Hitting his back with my fists. I fought as hard as I’d run… and just like my attempt to escape, it wasn’t nearly enough.
Chapter Eleven
Tomas
Ivy’s little temper tantrum was strangely adorable. Did she really think her tiny fists drumming on my back, the weak little kicks of her legs, were enough to force me to let her go? I didn’t enjoy her shrill screams, but out here in the countryside was better than when we were confined in the car. The sound wasn’t so contained.
Though she might start to attract attention.
I swatted her upturned ass again. I’d seen Gio punishing Clara, so I had some idea of what to do.
“Quiet,” I ordered. “Do you want to attract attention?”
“Yes! I’ll tell them you kidnapped me!”
I snorted.
“I saved you, little flower. Besides, whose attention do you think you’re going to attract out here? I don’t know if Don Bianco’s men are following us, but do you want to take that chance?”
Her arms and legs went limp, hanging down, leaving her like a sack of potatoes over my shoulder. At least she saw the sense of my words. I kind of missed her fists hitting my back though. It had felt kind of nice.
“There you go.” I patted her butt. I suddenly understood why Gio and Jack always had their hands reaching for their wives’ bottoms. Why Gio enjoyed spanking Clara. It wasn’t just the tears and the submission; it was the way her flesh felt cupped in my hands.
As I made my way back to the car, Macnair had already disappeared inside. Which might be for the best. I’d watched Gio spank Clara before, but I didn’t know how I felt about doing the same with Ivy and a witness. Especially one who wasn’t part of the Family. I trusted Macnair, to a point, but that wasn’t the same as wanting to share even a glimpse of Ivy with him.
Lifting her off my shoulder, I put her over the hood of the car. It was warm, but not hot. Still, she cried out in surprise and tried to wriggle away, but I pinned her down with a hand on the small of her back as I flipped up her skirt. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath it, which made this much easier.
“You were naughty, little flower, so now Daddy has to punish you.”
I raised my hand and brought it down on the ivory mounds of her bottom, making her jerk and scream as the sound of flesh cracking against flesh filled the air. My hand stung, which meant her butt had to be stinging too.
Perfect.
Ivy
Holy hell that hurt!
Far more than the swats he’d landed while I was over his shoulder.
His hand against my bare backside felt like a plank of wood, it was that hard and unyielding. The car hood beneath me was warm against my skin, almost hot, but not nearly as hot as the burning of the spanking I was receiving. I cried out, kicking my legs again—not to try and kick him but because I couldn’t not kick them—and my hands immediately went back to try and cover my bare mounds.
Tomas caught them easily in one big hand, pinning my wrists to the center of my lower back, continuing to spank me without missing a beat. I felt tears begin to roll down my cheeks, and I was horrified.
I’d endured far worse pain at the hands of Don Bianco and his men. Far worse torments. I had rarely cried.
Yet here I was, bent over the hood of a car, my skirt hiked up for a spanking, and I couldn’t stop the tears.
I didn’t know what to do either. This was far from the kind of punishment I had imagined. Why was he spanking me instead of killing me? Why was he spanking me instead of beating me?
