Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
K iera
I could see him through the curtain, leaning casually against his car like he had all the time in the world. Even from here, he radiated that same maddening calm, that air of unshakable control that made my stomach twist into knots.
His presence made it impossible to look away. My chest tightened, my heart stumbling over itself as his dark eyes locked onto mine. There was something in his gaze—something sharp and possessive—that made my skin flush and my knees weak. I hated how much it affected me, how much he affected me.
I should have stayed upstairs. Locked the door. Pretended I’d lost my phone. But instead, I grabbed my coat, shoved my phone into my pocket, and headed downstairs, each step heavier than the last.
The cold night air hit me as I pushed open the door, making me pull my coat tighter around myself. Ronan’s dark eyes flicked up from his phone as I stepped outside, and just like that, the world seemed to shrink.
His gaze locked on me, smooth and assessing. He didn’t move as I approached, didn’t say a word, but his presence filled the empty street all the same.
“Ronan,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I stopped a few feet away.
He tucked his phone into his pocket and straightened, his broad shoulders cutting an imposing figure under the streetlamp.
“Kiera,” he said smoothly. “Get in the car.”
It wasn’t a request.
I folded my arms over my chest, lifting my chin. “You could’ve come upstairs, you know.”
He cocked an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. “I could have. But I didn’t. Get in the car.”
I didn’t move. “What if I don’t want to?”
He took a step closer, his boots crunching softly against the pavement. “Then I’ll drag you into the car myself.”
I snorted, rolling my eyes even though my heart was pounding. “Big talk, Ronan. You can’t just?—”
Before I could finish, his hand shot out, gripping my upper arm—not hard, but firmly enough to stop me in my tracks. My breath hitched as he leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur.
“I’ve had a long night, Kiera,” he said, his tone calm, but edged with warning. “And I’m not in the mood for your little games. Now, you can get in the car like a good girl, or your punishment is going to be much, much worse than it’s going to be already.”
Before I could even think to pull away, his free hand came down on my backside.
The sound echoed in the quiet street, loud and humiliating. My coat barely softened the sting, and my eyes widened as a rush of shock and heat flooded my cheeks.
I froze, my mouth hanging open as the sting spread across my skin. He hadn’t hit me hard—just enough to make a point—but the sheer audacity of it left me reeling.
“Ronan—” I hissed, finally finding my voice, but he didn’t let me finish.
“That,” he said, his grip still gentle on my arm, “was just a taste, bad girl. You have a whole lot more coming in just a few minutes.”
I stared at him, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst. He didn’t look angry—not really. His expression was calm, steady, like he’d just stated a fact. Like this was inevitable.
“Are you serious?” I whispered, still stunned.
He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes never leaving mine. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
I swallowed hard, my cheeks burning as I broke his gaze and glanced toward the car. My legs felt like lead as I took a step forward, then another, my arm still tingling where his hand had held me while my bottom still stung where he had spanked me.
The door handle was cold against my palm as I yanked it open and slid inside. My heart was still racing, my thoughts spinning out of control as I buckled my seatbelt and stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him.
He’d spanked me. How fucking dare he? What did that mean? Had I underestimated him all this time? Was this going to be far worse than I had anticipated?
A million questions swirled in my head, but I didn’t ask a single one of them.
He walked around the car with the same unhurried ease he always had, slipping into the driver’s seat and closing the door behind him. The engine rumbled to life, the low purr filling the silence between us.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, thumbing through his contacts. A quick swipe, a tap, and then the phone was ringing as he pressed it to his ear.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice calm, but clipped with purpose. “Leena’s apartment. Power’s out. I want someone on it within the hour.” He paused, his fingers tapping idly against the steering wheel. “And keep someone on the place. I don’t want my sister there without protection.”
He ended the call with a flick of his wrist, sliding the phone into the cup holder.
I could feel him glance at me out of the corner of his eye, but I didn’t dare look back. My mind was stuck on what had just happened—on the deafening crack of his palm against my backside, the sting that still lingered, and the promise he’d made just seconds ago.
You’ve got a whole lot more coming.
I didn’t know what to do with that. My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve on edge, my thoughts a chaotic swirl of indignation, humiliation, and unwanted desire.
He hadn’t even yelled. He didn’t need to. Ronan didn’t need volume to get his point across. He didn’t need anything but that calm, quiet authority that made people fall in line whether they wanted to or not.
And the worst part?
He was right.
I had wasted his time. I had dragged him into this mess. And now, whether I liked it or not, I’d put myself in his hands. I deserved whatever I had coming.
I pressed my knees together, clenching my hands in my lap as the car rolled smoothly down the street. He didn’t say anything, and neither did I, at least for a moment.
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Are you… are you really going to spa — spank me?”
My voice cracked halfway through, and I hated the way it sounded—small, shaky, so unlike me. But I couldn’t help it. The question had been clawing at my throat since I got in the car, and now it was out there, hanging between us like a live wire.
Ronan didn’t respond immediately. He just glanced at me, his expression unreadable, and the quiet stretch of time between my question and his answer made my stomach twist even tighter.
“Yes,” he said finally, his voice calm and deliberate. “I am.”
I felt my cheeks flame, my heart skipping like a faulty engine. My fists tightened in my lap as I tried to keep my breathing steady, but it wasn’t working.
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, though it came out more like a whisper than I intended. “I’m not a child.”
“No. you’re not,” he said simply, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated the streets with unnerving ease. “But you still deserve it.”
My stomach did a flip. “I—what?”
His lips quirked, just slightly, but his gaze stayed on the road. “You heard me. You deserve a hard spanking, Kiera. Picking a fight with Marco Benedetti. Dragging Leena into it. Calling me to clean up your mess. And now, for wasting my time being difficult. And that doesn’t even include the fact that I want to, or that you need it.”
“I wasn’t—” I started, but he cut me off with a cool glance, one that silenced me before I could finish.
“Yes,” he said firmly. “You were. And now you’re going to deal with the consequences.”
My breath hitched, and I turned back toward the window, heat prickling the back of my neck. I wanted to argue, to tell him he was being ridiculous, but I couldn’t find the words. Because deep down, some small, annoying part of me knew he wasn’t wrong.
That I did deserve it.
Still, I couldn’t just sit there in silence.
“You can’t… you can’t just do that,” I said finally, my voice wobbling. “You can’t just… hit me.”
“I won’t hit you,” he said evenly, his tone annoyingly calm. “I’m going to spank you. There’s a difference.”
I turned toward him, my face burning. “That’s semantics!”
His lips twitched, and this time I knew it was deliberate—a faint ghost of amusement that only made my embarrassment worse.
“Call it whatever you like, little girl ,” he said, his tone still maddeningly steady. “It’s going to hurt. But you’re going to think twice before pulling this kind of stunt again.”
I stared at him, my heart racing, my thoughts tangling in a thousand knots. How was he so calm about this? So sure?
I’d never been spanked in my life.
Sure, I’d gotten into my fair share of trouble for my smart mouth, but my parents had only ever sent me to my room and grounded me. A few times they’d threatened a spanking when I’d misbehaved, but my father had certainly never followed through.
I had a feeling that wasn’t going to be a problem for a man like Ronan.
“And if I say no?” I asked, though even I could hear the lack of conviction in my voice.
His eyes flicked to me again, dark and unrelenting. “You don’t get to tell me no.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but no sound came out.
My cheeks burned as I turned back to the window, my breath coming short and shallow. I tried to focus on the city lights, the blur of yellow cabs and glowing billboards, but none of it could distract me from his words repeating over and over in my head.
It’s going to hurt.
I couldn’t stop thinking about his hand on my arm, the loud piercing crack of his palm against my backside outside my building, and the stinging heat it had left behind.
I shifted in my seat, my pulse hammering in my ears as the car turned onto a quieter street. I didn’t know where he was taking me, but the thought of what was coming made every nerve in my body hum with a strange, overwhelming energy—fear, anger, anticipation, all tangled together.
“Relax,” Ronan said suddenly, his voice low and smooth.
I glanced at him, startled. “What?”
He didn’t look at me, his attention still fixed on the road.
“Relax,” he repeated, his tone lighter now, almost teasing. “You’ll survive.”
The faintest hint of a smile curved his lips, and my stomach flipped again.
This wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.
And yet, I couldn’t stop the small, shaky breath that slipped from my lips as he pulled the car over on the side of the street. Alarm bells started to ring in my head, and I turned my head to face him.
His gaze turned to mine and the darkness I saw within them made my stomach clench hard with a million nervous butterflies. I didn’t even have a chance to look around to see where we were before his voice rang out, loud and sure and entirely too bold.
“Strip.”