Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Rosie
I’m shaking by the time we get back to the suite. A lump has lodged itself in my throat, and I feel like a fool.
Daniel doesn’t say anything. He takes my suitcase to his room—not mine—and then returns and sprawls out on the couch. When I don’t move, he sighs and pats his lap. “Come here.”
I fly across the room, launching myself at him. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
He grips me against him, like I might run away again. I won’t, and I don’t know how to tell him that. The lump grows.
“I don’t know how to do this.” He grinds out the words. “I want to take you over my knee. When you told me to fuck off. . .”
I cringe.
He smooths an errant hair back against my braids, then gathers the two plaits in one hand and tugs.
“Is this what it’s going to be like?” His gaze darkens, and beneath me, his cock pulses.
“When you have a temper tantrum, am I going to be equal parts terrified of losing you and deeply aroused at the thought of punishing you for your bratty little mouth?”
He’s turned on?
The lump in my throat softens. “I won’t do it again.” I grind against him. “Please don’t be mad. I really am sorry.”
“I know you are. And I’m not mad.” He drops his other hand to my thigh, pinning me against his body. He’s hard all over, his muscles tensed, his cock flexing between us. “No, this isn’t anger, little girl. This is something else.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Daddy?”
“Stand up.” He says it coarsely, his gaze glittering with intent. “Take off your pants.”
Legs shaking, I climb off him and peel off my sweatpants.
Daniel groans when he sees my underwear. “How many pairs of little white panties do you own?”
“It’s pretty much all I wear.” This pair has Sunday Funday printed on the butt.
Which he discovers as he hauls me back over his lap, this time with my ass in the air.
“It is Sunday,” he says, chuckling as he smooths his palm over my upper thighs and cotton-covered butt. “And since it’s your birthday, maybe we should combine your birthday swats with a reminder that Daddy loves you very much and never wants to let you go.”
“That’s a lot of swats,” I pant, my legs already shaking in anticipation.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” But he says it silkily like it’s half a threat. I don’t want to do this, but it’s for your own good.
My clit zings in anticipation. “I’m safe as long as I’m with you.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes.” I realize I’m absolutely certain of it. The lump dissolves completely. “There’s nothing you might want that I don’t want, too. I trust you.”
“With your body?”
“Yes.”
“And what about your heart?” His voice is rougher now. More vulnerable.
I exhale in a rush of joy. “That is all yours, too.”
“Good.” His palm lands heavily on the fleshy bottom curve of my ass. “That’s one. Happy birthday, baby.”
I rock from the warm sting of it, then press my face into the couch cushion.
The second, third, and fourth swats are the same. Five through eight are light smacks to the tops of my thighs, and those feel so good I moan on the last one. Daniel grunts and adjusts his position beneath me.
Nine.
Ten.
And then his fingers drift between my legs. He doesn’t say anything, just breathes heavily as he explores the damp spot growing on my panties.
Eleven, again on my butt cheek. Slow and heavy.
His fingers return to my pussy. More heavy breathing, and I arch my back, wanting more of his quiet molestation.
Without saying a word, he peels off my panties.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
“Daddy, I need you. . .” I’m babbling now, begging for him to touch me again. Each spank unleashes a fresh wave of slick, and when his fingers return to my pussy, he pushes that arousal up to my clit, then returns to my entrance and circles it.
Teasing me now.
Fifteen.
“Don’t tell me to fuck off,” he growls. “Not when you really want me to hold you down and touch you like you’re a dirty little girl.”
I whimper. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care if you’re sorry. All I want to hear from your sweet little mouth is that you need this.”
“I need this.”
“What do you need?”
“Daddy’s touches.”
“Where do you need them?”
“My. . .” I bury my face in the cushion again and sob as he spanks me again and again.
Eighteen.
Nineteen. “Rosie.”
“My pussy,” I gasp. “And my ass. My legs. Everywhere.”
He drags me up onto his lap, tossing my panties away and then arranging me so I’m straddling him.
With quick, rough movements, he frees his cock and sinks me onto it.
He shoves his hands up my shirt and squeezes my tits.
“Here, too? You need Daddy’s hands on your sweet mounds?
Look at you. Little braids, cute T-shirt.
Wet cunt taking all of Daddy’s bare cock. Aren’t you the dirtiest little girl?”
I bounce, trying to use his erection to get myself off.
He stops me with a heavy hand on my hip. “Don’t you fucking dare come on me.”
“What?”
He grins. “This is your punishment.”
“Nooo. . .” I gasp and try to control my body, but my clit is throbbing. One touch, and I’m going to dissolve into blissful goo. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so. . .”
He guides me down on top of him, curving my ass in the air. “Shhh. . . It’s okay. Two more spanks.”
But now, my clit is rubbing against his body. His cock is hitting me at a new angle inside, and my brain goes absolutely blank.
He reaches around my body and claps his hand against my butt.
“Twenty,” he whispers in my ear. “Good girl. Hold it in. Feel that? Feel how much you need me? Remember this feeling if you ever overhear something that sounds like I might not want you. Know that I will always give you this cock. Whenever you need it, it’s yours.
My mouth is yours; my body is yours. Because I love you. ”
I sob.
His hand comes down again. Twenty-one. Without lifting his hand again, he squeezes his fingers into my flesh and moves our bodies as if one. My orgasm explodes from the center of my body.
“Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much.”
I cling to him and grind through the aftershocks. My whole body is shaking and twitching as he thrusts into me, faster and faster, taking his own pleasure from the remnants of my messy, beautiful punishment.