Chapter 6
Frankie
S he spent nearly three days lying around Holden’s house, clad in nothing but the t-shirts and boxers she stole from his drawers. Over the course of those three days, he’d forced her to tell him about getting put on probation, which apparently one of his employees had snitched to him about. Unable to deny it when he had the proof right in front of him, she’d broken down and cried as she confessed to getting in over her head and lying to all her friends about it. To her surprise, he hadn’t punished her for all the lies, he’d simply held her until the tears passed and told her they’d figure things out together.
After that, he hadn’t brought it up again. He’d spent the rest of those three days spoiling her and pampering her like crazy, to the point she was beginning to wonder why she’d ever dumped him in the first place.
The morning of the fourth day, however, she woke to a heavy hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake.
“Time to get up, little siren.”
“Don’t wanna,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket over her head. She’d gotten so used to sleeping in and just waking up whenever she felt like it, and now he wanted to drag her out of her warm nest of blankets before she was ready.
Hard pass.
“Baby, we have things to do today. Rise and shine.”
“Don’t care .” Somewhere in the hazy recesses of her mind, she was aware she was acting like a spoiled brat, but she couldn’t quite muster the energy to be embarrassed by it.
“Francesca.”
Uh-oh. There was that Daddy tone. The one that usually meant her backside was about to become intimately reacquainted with her Daddy’s palm. But he’d said multiple times over the past few days that he wouldn’t spank her, so maybe she could get away with ignoring him at least a little while longer.
“All right,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, and triumph surged through her veins. “I guess I’ll have to go get your clothes out of your storage unit myself. Which means you’ll be stuck wearing whatever Daddy chooses for you while you stay here.”
Tossing the covers back, she glared up at him through narrowed eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Would you like to test me?”
That bratty, push-all-his-buttons side of her absolutely wanted to test him. But for once, her self-preservation kicked in and she pushed herself up in the bed. “You’re mean.”
“Very. And as you’re well aware, I can be very creative when the situation calls for it. Now, are you going to get up and put some clothes on or am I going to ransack your storage unit all by myself?”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she grumbled, slipping from the bed and stomping off toward the bathroom.
Where she realized, with a sudden jolt, she had nothing to wear but his clothes. Everything she owned was either dirty or packed up in her storage unit.
“Um, Daddy?”
“The clothes you wore home from the hospital are on the bed,” he called back, a hint of amusement in his tone.
“How the hell does he do that?” she asked under her breath as she used the toilet and washed her hands. Were all Doms born with the ability to read minds or was that something they were taught along the way?
Her annoyance wasn’t at all helped by the smirk on his face when she made her way back out to the bedroom to get dressed. Or the fact that he watched her like a hawk as she yanked each piece of clothing on.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she snapped when she looked up and found him still staring at her.
One silver eyebrow rose, and her bottom instinctively clenched. Her ass obviously hadn’t gotten the memo that he’d promised not to spank her until she was feeling stronger.
Closing the distance between them with a single step, he gripped her chin between his fingers, tilting her head back, studying her with those dark, unreadable eyes. “Someone needs breakfast. What would you like Daddy to make you?”
Of all the reactions that had run through her mind, that one had never even occurred to her. “I’m not hungry,” she replied automatically, more out of habit than anything. Because if she was being honest with herself, her stomach did feel a little empty.
Letting out a deep sigh, he released his grip on her face to take her hand in his. With her firmly in his hold, he led her out to the kitchen table and nudged her down into a chair.
“I just said I’m not hungry.”
Twisting around in her seat, she watched as he opened a cabinet drawer and pulled out a legal pad and a pen. His expression hard, he returned to the table, placing both the pad and the pen in front of you. “Yes, I heard you. But considering you only ate half your dinner last night and you’ve been asleep for nearly twelve hours, I’m calling bullshit. Which is why you’re going to sit here and write ‘I will not lie to Daddy’ ten times while I make us some breakfast.”
“You want me to write lines? Like a child?”
“Yes. And if all ten are not completed, neatly , by the time I finish making our food, I will double the count. Understood?”
“This is stupid.”
“You’re welcome to your feelings, but you will complete your punishment, Francesca.”
And with that, he turned, not giving her a chance to argue. While he worked in the background, she stared at the blank page in front of her.
She’d thought being strapped to a cross while he spanked and lectured her in front of a club full of people had been humiliating. But it was nothing compared to how she felt now, facing this childish punishment all on her own. The paper blurred as tears slipped down her cheeks, and she hastily wiped them away.
Goddammit, she was a fucking Legare. She should be stronger than this.
A sigh drew her attention away from the paper, to Holden’s disappointed expression as he sat two plates with scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. “Francesca, if we have to sit here all morning, I will—oh, baby.” In an instant, he shifted from stern to concerned, plucking her up out of her chair to settle on his lap. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Swiping at the tears still running down her face, she forced a bright smile. “I’m fine. Let me down and I’ll finish it.”
“No. You’re not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re crying.”
“I’m not crying.”
A growl vibrated deep in his chest. “You’re really going to lie to me in the middle of being punished for lying to me?”
Fuck. She hadn’t even considered that. “Sorry.”
“Look, baby, if writing lines is going to upset you this much, I’ll find another punishment. But first I need you to talk to me so I can understand why you’re so upset.”
“It’s nothing. I’m just being stupid.”
Whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been for him to scoop her up in his arms and carry her back to the primary bathroom. To stand her in front of the mirror, forcing her to meet his furious gaze in the reflection.
“Don’t look at me. Look at you.”
Red. Absolutely not. Hard limit. “Don’t wanna.”
“Francesca.”
“I don’t want to .”
“All right.” Sliding one large hand across her stomach, he slipped his fingers in the top of her leggings, into her panties, and a whimper escaped from her lips as he unerringly found her clit. “Do you want Daddy to make you come, little siren?”
She hadn’t been remotely turned on before he’d touched her, but now every inch of her body was aflame, begging for more of the pleasure she knew he could give her. But admitting that would be admitting he’d found a weakness.
And Legares never admitted weakness.
“No.”
His low chuckle rumbled in her ear. “Liar. That’s thirty when you get back to the table.”
Fuck . “I don’t want to write lines.”
“I know. But you’re going to, because Daddy said so and you’re a good girl. Aren’t you, little siren?”
“N-no,” she said on a gasp as a particularly hard wave of need hit her straight in the gut. “I’m a brat. You’ve said so yourself.”
“Brats are just good girls who want to know they’re worth fighting for. And you, my naughty little siren, have always been worth fighting for.” Pushing one thick finger inside her, he pressed a gentle kiss to the shell of her ear. “If you do as you're told and look in the mirror, I’ll knock that last ten off your lines. Deal?”
It was a good deal, but she could do better. “Cancel all thirty and I’ll do it.”
“Afraid I can’t do that, baby. Lying to your Daddy is very, very naughty. But I’m willing to bring it back down to the original ten.”
She had lied, so it only seemed fair she should have to face some kind of punishment. “The original ten and an orgasm?”
“Yes.”
“Deal.”
“There’s my little shark,” he said with a low, rumbling laugh. “Time to hold up your end of the bargain.”
Dragging in a deep breath, she forced her gaze to shift down. To meet her own eyes in the mirror. Her mother would have a conniption fit over the dark circles there, but that could be hidden with makeup. Delphine would be ecstatic over the cut of her cheekbones, the sharp angles she didn’t even need contour to achieve.
And yet, Frankie’s stomach fell at the sight of her reflection. All those years of fighting to get herself back, of learning to ignore her mother’s snide remarks about her weight, and now here she was. Once again looking like nothing more than skin stretched across bone.
Fresh tears welled in her eyes, blurring the image in front of her. “I can’t… please let me go.”
“Do you know what I see when I look at you, Francesca?” he asked instead, his fingers still stroking her swollen bud.
“No. And I don’t want to know.”
“Too bad. I see a smart, strong, capable woman. A woman who doesn’t take any shit. A woman who stands up for her friends, a woman who worked her ass off to get where she is today. And if I have to stand you in front of this mirror every single day until you see yourself the way I see you, then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“I’m not any of those things. I couldn’t even make it through a year of medical school. I’m weak and stupid.”
“Baby, what you are is the furthest thing from weak and you sure as hell aren’t stupid. You’re so strong it terrifies me sometimes. And if you need to lean on me for a little while, if you need to borrow some of my strength until you find your own again, then that’s okay too.” Soft kisses trailed down the side of her neck. “You are strong, and beautiful, and I’m in fucking awe of you, every day.”
With every word, every stroke of his fingers across her clit, the ache in her stomach eased just a bit. Little by little, until it was more a memory of pain than an actual ache.
“Daddy.” Gasping out his name, she rose up onto her tiptoes, wrapping her arm around his neck as she watched herself move in the mirror. “I want… I need…”
“I know, baby. You’ve been such a good girl for me. Would you like your reward now?”
“P-please.”
“Come for me, little siren. Come for Daddy.”
Unlike how he usually pleasured her, forcing her brutally over that peak, this was more of a slow ride. A tumble into a gentle sea of pleasure that still managed to leave her knees weak as it crashed over her.
“Such a good girl,” he murmured again, pressing another soft kiss to her neck. “Whenever you need me to remind you of how fucking amazing you are, you just tell me. We’re in this together, Francesca. You and me. And I’ll be right here to catch you if you fall.”
Lifting her gaze, she met his eyes in the mirror. “I might fall more than once. Hell, I’ll probably fall more than once a day, especially at first.”
“Then I’ll catch you as many times as it takes.”