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His thumb strokes lazy circles against the back of my hand as we move, and even in heels, I feel short next to him. I also feel protected by his strength surrounding me. And for the first time in my life, claimed. I’m both hyper-aware of the people around us and completely centered on Matt. He holds me in a way that makes everything else fall away.

“Matt,” I start, then hesitate.

“Mmhmm?”

“I, uh... I’ve been thinking about our conversation in bed last night.” My face heats as soon as the words leave my mouth. “When we were talking about how you’d have rules and um… discipline if those rules were broken.”

His grip tightens just slightly, enough to ground me. “You can trust me, Sunshine. Tell me what is on your mind.”

I draw in a slow breath. “I’m excited. I want this… dynamic with you. But I’m also self-conscious about some things.”

“Like what?” he asks gently, dipping his head closer.

I hesitate again, then blurt it out before I lose my nerve. “Spanking. Specifically, being spanked. It’s not that I don’t want it, I do. Those chapters in the books I read are always my favorite and I’ve been curious about how it would feel in real life. But…” I groan softly. “God, I hate even saying this. My butt is…big. Like, really big. I know I’m curvy and like plus-sized and I don’t make excuses or care what people think about my size. I love myself and I’m confident in who I am. But, my butt…I’ve always been self-conscious about it. The thought of you staring at it or… focusing on it like that…it’s gross. Disgusting. Covered in stretch marks and cellulite.”

Matt stills. Just for a moment. Long enough that I start to wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Then he leans back, just enough to look me in the eyes.

“Jackie.” His voice is calm. Firm. “I love your ass.”

My face flames. “You’re just saying that?—”

He cuts me off with one raised eyebrow. “No, Sunshine, I’ll never lie to you. Iadoreyour ass. You could land planes on it. It’s perfect. And if youevertalk about yourself like that again?—”

“But it’s true!”

His hand slides down to cup the curve of my hip. “Doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not, it’s not okay to speak that way about somethingIhappen to find irresistible. Something that now belongs to me. I appreciate you letting me know how you feel, Sunshine. I will work hard on making you see your body the way I do. Edible. Perfect. Mine.”

My breath hitches. Should I let it go or push it? I’m curious about how serious he is. During our hours-long conversationwe’d spoken about some basic rules. No lying. No negative self-talk. “But, me saying my butt is covered in cellulite and stretch marks, that it’s disgusting, is the truth and you want the truth from me.”

“Sweetheart, you might have cellulite and stretch marks. Bodies grow, change and develop over the years. That doesn't make it disgusting. It makes it real. Authentic. Believe me, whether I’m buried in you from behind or spanking you over my lap, I won’t be thinking that you are disgusting.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.” I mutter. Just loud enough for him to hear me.

“In fact…” His palm shifts lower, cupping me fully through my dress. “You just earned your first spanking, sweetheart.”

My mouth drops open. “But—Matt!”

He leans in close, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Bare butt. Over my knee. Maybe even with the belt if you keep protesting.”

I let out a shaky breath, body tingling. “It’s not negative self-talk if it’s accurate,” I murmur stubbornly, testing him just a little.

He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “That’s twice. You’re not making it easy on yourself tonight.”

“Maybe I don’t want easy.”

The music swells. I realize we’ve stopped swaying. He’s holding me still, and I’m very aware of the way his hand hasn’t moved from my ass. He squeezes once, slow and deliberate, the pressure sending sparks all the way up my spine.

His gaze is warm, amused, and utterly commanding. “Dance is over, Sunshine. And Icannotwait to get you back to my place.”

Heat rushes through me, pooling low and fast. My fingers clutch his lapel as the music fades out and another more upbeattune kicks in. Around us, couples break apart, returning to their tables, but we don’t move.

“You’re serious,” I whisper.

“Dead serious.” His thumb strokes just below my waistband. “You’re mine now. And Daddy takes care of what’s his.”

I bite my lip, unable to stop the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I should probably be more nervous than I am. But all I feel is anticipation and this deep, blooming trust.

“Better not go easy on me then,” I say softly.