Chapter 17 #4
“Now that we’ve reached an understanding, little girl, Daddy is going to finish the punishment you’ve earned.”
“Wait!”
He didn’t wait.
He just started spanking me again.
Much harder than before.
He didn’t stop for a long time, not until my eyes were hot and my backside was hotter, I was breathing hard and tears were streaming down my face, and I was one very, very sorry little girl.
Finally, he rested his palm against my left cheek.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I said again, this time with a pitiful sniffle as a tear trailed down my cheek. I tried not to think about that fact that calling him Daddy came much more easily this time.
“I know, solnyshko,” he said.
His hand moved down, just glancing against my inner thighs. I sucked in a breath.
“You took your spanking like such a good girl. Now, though, you’re going to come for Daddy.”
His fingers found the wet heat between my legs, and I made a sound that would have been deeply embarrassing in any other universe.
“Daddy—”
“Hush,” he said, and his voice had dropped with that specific firm quality that would make my knees unreliable for weeks.
His fingers moved, slowly at first.
I dug my fingers into the couch cushion and told myself very firmly that this was part of the punishment, or maybe it was a reward, and then I stopped telling myself anything because the pads of his fingers pressed exactly where they needed to and the argument fell apart completely.
He was thorough.
Very thorough.
So thorough that I was on the edge of orgasm in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
He didn’t let me come. Not right away. Ivan did nothing carelessly, and this was no exception.
He read me with the same attention he brought to everything in his life.
He paid attention to the small sounds I couldn’t stop making, the shift of my hips, the way my breathing broke apart when he found the right angle, and he adjusted without theater or self-congratulation.
It was just the work of a man who had decided my pleasure was a thing he was going to get right every time.
“Please—please, please, Daddy,” I moaned, and I was going to be furious about using that word when his fingers were stroking my clit later, but right now, I just wanted more.
I wanted to come.
“Good girl,” he said softly. “Now let go and come for Daddy. Unless you need Daddy to take his belt to your cute little ass first.”
And that was it.
The orgasm hit me like a tsunami, rolling through me in waves that started somewhere very deep and kept going past every boundary I had tried to draw between my body and my current situation.
I pressed my face into the cushion and shook and screamed and moaned. I did not manage to be quiet about it.
He held me through it. All of it.
I came so much harder than any of the times in the shower. Heat rolled through me as my inner walls fluttered over and over again, until the pleasure finally crested and started to ebb. My breath pulled in and out of my lungs in frantic gasps as one aftershock after another tore through me.
When my orgasm finally ended, his hand stilled, gentle now, and his other hand rested warm and steady on my back. I lay there for a moment, breathing hard, my ass stinging fiercely, my face hot, my body confused enough to deserve its own incident report. I expected him to let me up right away.
He didn’t.
He just held me there, my vulnerable red ass still in the air.
I tried very hard not to think about how hard I’d come after getting my bare bottom spanked like a naughty little girl.
I also tried not to think about him taking his belt to my ass too.
I failed on both accounts.
His palm rested on my lower back, warm and steady, while the other drew my panties and leggings back up with more care than I was prepared to survive emotionally. The fabric brushing over my punished skin made me hiss. He did not apologize, but I hadn’t expected him to.
Eventually, he helped me sit up. I moved too fast and immediately regretted it because my bottom protested with a hot, stinging reminder of what had just happened.
For a few seconds, we sat too close on his expensive couch while my eyes dried, my ass burned, and my entire understanding of myself tried to quietly leave town under an assumed name.
“You actually spanked me,” I pouted.
He looked at me.
“Yes. But you and I both know you earned it, didn’t you, little girl?”
“Yes,” I pouted.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, biting my lip nervously.
“There’s my good girl.”
“I’m still mad.”
“I know.”
“I hate that you keep knowing things.”
His hand lifted, slow enough that I could have moved away, and brushed one damp strand of hair from my cheek. I stayed still, while his fingers lingered near my jaw.
“You were very brave, solnyshko,” he said.
I swallowed.
“That is such a weird thing to say after spanking someone that hard,” I said, pouting even more dramatically.
“No. It is accurate.”
My throat tightened again and I looked away because if I didn’t, I might do something much more dangerous than kissing him.
I might actually believe him.