STEPUNCLE DISCIPLINES ME PART IV

The words hit me like a physical thing, sinking into my chest. My stomach did this weird flip—half from irritation, half from… well, I didn’t even want to finish that thought. My throat felt a little dry, and I hated that I didn’t have some clever reply ready. Worse, I hated the fact that he could probably see the pink in my cheeks.

He stepped closer, and it was like the closet shrank around us. The scent of him wrapped around me—clean soap, something sharp like cologne, and an underlying warmth that was just him. It was stupid, but it made me even more aware of how little space there was between us.

“You,” he began slowly, his tone almost like he was lecturing but with this taunting edge, “need to be punished for snooping around in my room…” His gaze wandered, unhurried, down my body before flicking back to my face. “…for teasing me in those little shorts…” His eyes lingered on my bare legs before moving up again, and I felt my skin heat under his stare. “…and for talking back to me. You’ve been such a little brat.”

My breath caught for a second, but I forced myself to straighten as much as the cuffs allowed. “I don’t need to obey you,” I shot back, my voice a little too sharp to sound confident. “You’re not my boss.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and then that smirk deepened into something darker. He tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was something he was figuring out piece by piece. “Oh, princess,” he said, dragging the word out just enough to make it sound both mocking and intimate at the same time, “then I guess you need to learn your lessons.”

The way he said princess made my chest tighten. My fingers curled tightly around the cold steel of the cuffs, the chain between them rattling softly as I shifted. I could feel the metal pressing into my skin, reminding me that I wasn’t going anywhere no matter how much I might want to.

He moved another step closer, until I could feel the faint warmth of his breath against my cheek. His eyes locked on mine, and it was like we were caught in some silent challenge neither of us wanted to break first. The air felt heavier now, charged, almost buzzing against my skin.

“You think you can just ignore me,” he said quietly, his voice so low it was almost a growl, “walk into my room, touch my things… and get away with it?”

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” I argued, though it came out softer than I meant. My chin lifted a little, but the cuffs kept my shoulders pulled tight, making me feel exposed.

He didn’t reply right away. Instead, his gaze swept over me again, slower this time, like he was memorizing every inch. My pulse jumped in my throat, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted him to step back… or closer.

Dante stepped even closer, his shoes barely making a sound on the carpeted floor. The small closet felt even smaller now, like the walls had moved in on us. I could see the tiny shadows his lashes cast under the closet light, and the way his eyes seemed darker up close.

Then his hand moved. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers brushed against the side of my bare leg. It was so light at first that I almost thought I imagined it, but the shiver that shot through me proved otherwise. My breath hitched, and I felt the goosebumps rise along my skin instantly.

He traced lazily from just above my knee, letting his fingertips skim my skin like he had all the time in the world. I swallowed hard, my eyes locked on his hand as it moved higher. Every inch he covered seemed to make my heart pound faster and louder until I was sure he could hear it.

The heat from his touch seemed to seep under my skin, spreading upward in warm waves. I tugged at the cuffs out of instinct, but they only rattled softly above my head, a cold reminder that I couldn’t push him away even if I wanted to.

Which… I didn’t.

I hated myself for admitting it even in my own head, but it was true. I didn’t want him to stop.

The tips of his fingers brushed higher along my thigh, slow enough that I was going crazy waiting to see how far he’d go. My knees felt unsteady, and I shifted my weight just to keep my balance.

“W-We shouldn’t be doing this,” I said finally, my voice barely a whisper. I wanted to sound firm, confident, but instead it came out soft and shaky.

He looked up at me then, his smirk returning, slow and knowing. His eyes caught mine, and for a second, I forgot to breathe. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his tone low, almost gentle—but there was a challenge hidden in it, too. "Because I don't think you do."

My chest rose and fell quickly, each breath uneven. My lips parted, but no answer came. The smart thing would have been to nod, to say yes, to tell him to move back. But the heat in my cheeks, the tight flutter in my stomach, and the rush of my pulse told a different story.

Instead of answering, I just stood there, frozen under his gaze. He seemed to notice everything—the way my thighs tensed, the way my shoulders shifted slightly, the way I bit my lip without even realizing.

His fingers pressed just a little firmer against my skin now, his hand warm and sure. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, almost to himself, as his gaze flicked down to where his hand rested on my thigh before slowly lifting back up to my face.

I swallowed again, but my throat felt dry. The air between us felt charged, almost buzzing, like the moment before lightning strikes.

Dante’s hand moved higher, slow enough that my breathing grew uneven. My stomach tightened, and I could feel every tiny brush of his fingertips like they were leaving sparks behind. He didn’t rush, almost like he wanted me to feel every second of the wait.

When his touch finally reached my core, I couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped my lips. The sound hung in the air between us, and his eyes flicked up to mine like he had been waiting for that exact reaction. My cheeks burned, my chest rising and falling too quickly, but I couldn’t look away from him.

“Wider,” he ordered, his voice low but firm.

I hesitated for the briefest moment, my mind screaming at me to stop—but my body moved before I could think. I obeyed, slowly parting my legs under his gaze. The movement made my shorts ride up just a little more, and the air in the room felt suddenly warmer, thicker.

His smirk deepened as he watched me follow his command. “Good girl,” he murmured, almost to himself, like he was pleased with how easily I’d listened.