Chapter 2
Frankie
Either she did a much better job of hiding her nerves than usual, or everyone was too drunk and distracted to pay her any attention.
Ruby and Lottie for sure were on the drunken side of the equation, with Cordelia and Ivy keeping each other occupied.
Silver was just… Silver, sitting and watching quietly as she tended to, seemingly enjoying playing hostess as she sipped daintily at her wine.
Whatever the reason, it was fine with her as it meant she made it the whole night without the third degree.
Still, by the time Holden showed up at Silver’s front door, Frankie’s nerves were frayed at the edges from her imagination running wild, conjuring up all the different punishments her Daddy might have in store for her when they got home.
She had actually eaten most of what she’d had on her plate, which hopefully would earn her some leniency, but she wasn’t holding out much hope.
The actual ride home wasn’t much better. She couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t just another apology and Holden didn’t seem to have much to say either.
Until they turned onto the long driveway that led to their home. Holden’s large hand came to rest on her thigh, stopping the up and down motion of her knee that she hadn’t even noticed. “Breathe, baby. Everything’s going to be okay.”
The deep rumble of his voice helped to calm her nerves somewhat. “Sorry. It’s just, I know I messed up big time.”
“You did. But you know what?”
“What?”
Putting the car in park, he turned toward her, his handsome face illuminated by the flood lights that had turned on when they’d pulled in. “I’m really fucking proud of you.”
Nothing, literally nothing he could have said in that moment would have shocked her more. “You’re proud of me? Why?”
“I know it wasn’t easy for you to call me tonight and ask for help.
But you did. You didn’t wait until you got caught, you didn’t wait for things to get so bad you couldn’t ignore them.
You recognized you were falling back into old habits and you reached out.
And I could not be more fucking proud of you right now, little siren. ”
Tears burned at the backs of her eyes. “I didn’t really think of it like that.”
“I know. Which is why I’m telling you. So that when I tell you that I’m not going to punish you tonight, you understand why.”
Okay, she’d been wrong. That was the most shocking thing he possibly could have said. “But I broke the rules. And I hid it from you.”
“You did. But you owned up to it and you asked for help. I’m not going to punish you for that.”
“But—”
“Francesca.” Beneath the warning tone ran amusement, enough to settle some of her jumping nerves. “Are you trying to talk your way into a spanking?”
“Maybe.” It shocked her to realize how true it was. “I broke a rule. So I should be punished. Isn’t that how it works?”
“Usually. But there is room for nuance and grace.” His eyes narrowed slightly and she was left with the unsettling impression, as she often was, that her husband could see straight through to her soul. “If you need a spanking to help with the stress of the wedding, though… that I could do.”
Relief loosened the knots in her stomach, shocking her even more than his declaration that he wasn’t going to punish her. “I think that would help a lot, actually.”
“All right. But I want it very clear that this is not a punishment. Understood?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. When I come let you out, I want you to go straight upstairs to our bedroom and I expect to find you naked on the bed when I get there. If you are not, then you will get that spanking you wanted, plus some. Understood?”
Warmth, needy and insistent, pulsed between her thighs.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Holden
When they got into the house, he sent her running upstairs with a heavy swat to her ass that had her squealing and giggling as she rushed to follow his instructions.
Or not. Honestly, with his little siren it was about fifty-fifty as to whether or not she’d obey. Either way, he planned to warm her bottom good and proper, so it didn't really matter to him.
He detoured to the kitchen for a few bottles of water and the fancy chocolates she favored after a hard scene. Not that he had any intention of being hard on her, really, but what he had planned would hopefully leave his babygirl completely drained.
Guilt pricked at him as he made his way up the stairs. Knowing she’d obviously been so stressed that she’d fallen back into old habits without him picking up on it… He should have been paying more attention.
Well, he was certainly paying attention now.
And he would be keeping a much closer eye on his babygirl from now on.
Maybe he’d talk about it with her therapist, see if there were any warning signs he should be looking out for in the future, little things he might have missed.
And, he could begrudgingly admit, he should talk to his own therapist about it, work through the guilt he was feeling.
Setting that aside for later, he pushed open the door to their bedroom and shook his head at the sight that greeted him. His wife was stretched out on the bed, where he’d hoped to find her, but the only clothes she’d bothered to remove were her shoes.
Glancing up from her phone, she grinned, that mischievous smile he’d fallen in love with the very first time he’d seen her from across a crowded club. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Naughty girl. What did I tell you to do when you came upstairs?”
“Mmm. I don’t remember.”
Brat. Once upon a time, he’d convinced himself he didn’t like brats. That he preferred submissives who surrendered without too much of a fight.
Francesca Prescott had proven him wrong from the moment he’d kissed her, and she continued to prove him wrong every day of their lives.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Putting their water and snacks down on the dresser, he bypassed the bed and headed straight for the closet and the tools of his trade he kept there. After grabbing what he needed, he made his way back to her, inwardly grinning at the curiosity dancing in her brown eyes.
“Last chance to do as you’re told, little girl. Clothes off. Now.”
Frankie tilted her head to the side, as if considering the request. “No. I don’t think I will.”
He dived for her, and she rolled off the bed with a shriek. Unfortunately for her, their bedroom wasn’t quite large enough for her to run very far before he caught her, hauling her up over his shoulder and landing a heavy swat to her ass as she wriggled against his hold.
“Ow! That hurt!”
Chuckling at the petulance in her voice, he sat on the edge of the bed and flipped her over his knee all in one swift motion. “It’s going to hurt a lot more in a moment. You could be getting a nice, sexy spanking right now. But you decided to be a brat instead.”
While she struggled and kicked over his knee, he pushed her dress up over her hips, exposing the pretty green satin and lace covering her round bottom. His cock strained at the zipper of his pants, and it was all he could do not to simply bend her over and bury himself in her heat.
A swift tug brought her panties to her knees and he cupped her bare bottom, grinning down at her when she pushed her hips back, silently begging him for more.
Well, who was he to deny his babygirl?
The first swat was hard enough to make her yelp in surprise, far harder than he would have started off if she’d obeyed him. But obviously she needed this, needed the kind of spanking that would break down her walls and bring her to that place where she was forced to submit.
So that was what he gave her. Hard, heavy swats, delivered at a lightning pace while she squealed and kicked and yelped over his knee.
Beneath his palm, his babygirl’s pale flesh turned pink, then a deep rose, until at last she stopped fighting him.
Until she finally just collapsed, draped over his thigh as he delivered the last few swats.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, cupping her bottom again and giving it a hard squeeze. “Feeling better now, baby?”
She hummed in response, soft and dreamy. “Mmm. Yes, Daddy. But I could definitely be more relaxed.”
Again she lifted her hips, and he chuckled at the evidence of her arousal glistening between her thighs. “I’m sure you could, baby. Are you going to be a good girl now and get undressed like Daddy told you?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Are you going to fuck me or not?”
He landed two extra hard swats to her sit-spots, surprising another yelp out of her. “Let me put it this way. You can either do as you were told, or I can take my belt off and make this a real punishment. What’s it going to be, Francesca?”
“Umm, door number one, please.”
“That’s what I thought.”
With another swat, he let her up so she could scramble out of her clothes. He bit his tongue when she tossed them aside instead of into the hamper like she was supposed to. It was an ongoing power struggle between the two of them, and he wasn’t in the mood to punish her for it just then.
Instead, he focused on stripping out of his own dress shirt, down to the white t-shirt beneath so he could have a better range of motion for what he had in mind next. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of creamy skin as she clambered up onto the bed.
“On your stomach, eyes closed.”
“Bossy,” she muttered, quiet enough she probably hadn’t meant for him to hear, and he had to swallow a laugh. Even when she was getting exactly what she wanted, she was a huge fucking brat.
It was just one of the many things he loved about her.
Picking up the bottle of oil he’d set aside, he knelt on the bed beside her and poured a generous helping of it into his palm. He rubbed his hands together, warming the oil before running his hands up her spine to her shoulders.
“Oh my god.” The words came out on a low moan of pleasure. “That feels amazing. Don’t stop.”
He had no intention of stopping until every bit of stress had been massaged from her lithe body.
Using everything he’d learned during the few months Hawk had spent studying massage therapy as one of his many different hyperfixations, he focused on the spots where her muscles felt extra tight, working the knots loose while she hummed and sighed beneath his touch.
And he didn’t stop until she’d turned to putty beneath his fingers, soft and pliant, the way she never was for anyone but him.
“How’s that feel, little siren?”
“Amazing.” Her response was slightly slurred and the corner of her mouth lifted in a slow smile. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, baby.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, delighted when she shivered at the gentle touch. “Are you ready for bed? Or do you want Daddy to keep making you feel good?”
Her response, when it came, was one simple word that told him everything he needed to know.
“More.”