Chapter Ten
Amy
I flopped onto my sofa and kicked off my shoes. It had been a long day. I’d done the work of three people, and my mind was spinning.
All I really wanted was to be in Mitch’s arms. He had this special way of making everything fade into the distance, until it was just us left in the world. Me and him. Nothing else existed.
Looking around my apartment, hued with green from the huge tree outside the window, I realized it felt empty without him. I hadn’t known him long, but he’d wormed his way into my life, my bed…my body…in a way no one else had.
My phone pinged. It was him.
Hi, baby girl. I’ll be there soon. Have a glass of milk while you wait, and I’ll cook when I get there. Daddy xxx
A smile spread on my face. And then I swung my feet to the floor and poured a glass of milk. It was only right that I did what I was told, and another night of not cooking suited me well. Being cared for was wonderful and made me feel wanted and adored.
Half an hour later, Mitch arrived. His worn black jeans teamed great with a dark-gray t-shirt that hugged his body in a trendy-style that had lust pouring into my veins.
I was a lucky girl.
He hauled me into his arms and kissed me. His cologne was fresh as though he’d just showered, and he tasted of mint.
“Busy day at work?” I asked.
“Something like that.” He grinned and kissed me again. “Did you drink all of your milk up like a good little girl?”
I did. “Can’t you taste it?” I kissed him again.
He chuckled and ran his hands to my ass, squeezed, and crushed me against the hard length of his body.
“Mmm…” I moaned. I was ready to get up close and personal. See if he could help me orgasm again, this time on his cock. Fuck yeah! I was up for that. I hoped he was, too.
“We should eat, I’m starving.” He released me and then retrieved a bag of shopping from where he’d left it by the door.
“What have we got?” I linked my hands beneath my chin then leaned on the breakfast bar, wriggling my ass from side to side and hoping he appreciated the view.
I’d opted for the short skirt and long socks again, this time teamed with a pale-yellow vest top with an owl on the front.
It showed off my tits pretty well, especially when I bent forward.
He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, paused for a second, then plonked the food on the counter. “Pasta. With a tomato sauce.”
“Perfect. Thank you, Daddy.”
He smiled then found a can of beer, popped the ring, and took a long drink.
“You needed that, huh?” I asked.
“Yeah, I guess.” He filled a pan with water then grated some parmesan into a bowl. “How was your day?”
“Busy.” I blew out a breath to show my exhaustion then walked to the window.
I could practically feel his gaze on my butt. He really was an ass man.
“How come?” he asked gruffly.
“Lots going on, as always, and Beth was on a day’s holiday.”
“I hope you took lunch.”
“At my desk.”
“You should go for a walk, get away from the screen for a while.”
“You’re right. I should.” I turned. “Perhaps if a big stern cop appeared and ordered me to, I would.”
He chuckled. “You might just get your wish one day.”
“The girls were intrigued when you showed up.”
“Good. The more people who know you’re mine the better.”
“I’m yours?” I wasn’t complaining.
“Yes.” He emptied a third of the big bag of pasta into the pan and set his attention firmly on me. “You are. Get used to it. No other guys. I mean it. Anyone asks you for a date, you tell them to fuck off. Anyone looks at you like they want to fuck you, tell me and I’ll drop them to the floor.”
“Wow.” I folded my arms. “Possessive much?”
“You better believe it. I don’t share, and in the past my woman didn’t respect that. You will.”
I remembered that his ex had cheated on him so I guessed being possessive, perhaps even over-the-top jealous, was par for the course.
“Yes, I will,” I said and walked to the breakfast bar again.
I leaned on it, jutting my tits forward.
“I promise to respect that. I don’t want anyone but you, so it will be easy. ”
His attention went to my chest as he stirred the warming sauce.
I smiled. “So what did you do today? Arrest any criminals?”
“I wasn’t on duty. Day off.”
“Oh…I thought…” I paused. “I suppose I presumed you were at work.”
“Shifts, remember.”
I nodded. “So did you do much? See your kids?”
“They were at school.”
Again I nodded. “See any mates?”
“Yeah, I did actually. Jamie.”
I waited for him to continue.
“We had something to do.” His jaw tensed, and his eyes narrowed. He set the wooden spoon he’d been using to one side.
“Sounds mysterious?” I poked the bag of dry pasta.
The atmosphere had changed. His body had stiffened, and he’d folded his wide arms tight over chest.
“What did you have to do?” I asked, straightening and mimicking his posture.
“Something I should have told you about before I did it.”
A sinking feeling grew in my belly. A hole. A sense of falling. What had he done? Had he let me down already? What had he interfered with?
“What?” I managed through my dry mouth.
“I went to Yorkshire.”
My belly tightened to the point I thought I was going to vomit the milk back up. “No…tell me you didn’t.” Sweat popped on my brow, cold sweat, and under my arms prickled.
He stared straight at me, chin tilted. Unapologetic. Totally.
“Why? Why the fuck would you do that? Go there…of all places.” My eyes stung with tears. He’d betrayed me.
“I needed to see it for myself.”
“You didn’t believe me about it?”
“Of course I did.”
“No…no you obviously didn’t, and now…now how can I ever trust you?
You keep going on about trust, yet you’ve destroyed it.
” I grabbed the bag of pasta and stepped back, clutching it.
“You are one of the few people I’ve ever told about my childhood.
About them…they’re crazy…” I dug my hand into the pasta. “And what they were going to do to me.”
“Amy, come on.” He unfolded his arms and held them out to me.
I backed up further. “No. Stay away from me.” Anger and fury swirled with betrayal and hurt.
“Amy.”
“Fuck off!” I threw a handful of pasta at him. Hard, a proper pelt. It hit him in the face like a smattering of pebbles and then clattered to the floor.
“What the…?” He scowled at me. “Stop that!”
“No, you had no right to go there. I hate you, get out.”
“You do not hate me.”
“I do.” I threw another big handful at him with as much force as I could muster and a direct aim at his face. It was a pretty good shot. Again.
“You’re being a brat.” He came closer still.
“And you’re an asshole.” I scooped more pasta into my hand and sprayed him with it.
He batted it away, though plenty struck target. “I’m warning you.”
“Warning me.” My heart was thudding, adrenaline surging. “And what if I’d warned you not to go the the commune? Would you have listened to me?”
“You don’t even know what happened there.”
“You went, that’s all I need to know. I have no fucking idea why.” I took another shot with the pasta. It was nearly all gone. “But that’s it, fun over. Go. Go now, Mitch.”
“I’m getting pretty sick of you telling me to leave.” In one big stride he was in front of me and had grabbed both of my wrists. He locked them together. The empty pasta bag fell to the floor.
“Don’t come back here.” I glared up at him and tried to wriggle free. “And don’t come to my work.” A tear slid down my cheek. “Goodbye, Mitch.”
“There’s no fucking way this is goodbye.” He sat on the sofa, dragging me with him.
“What? Get off me!”
The man’s strength was a pain in the ass. He moved me like I was a doll, and the next thing I knew I was hanging over his lap, my butt the highest part of my body as I grabbled for something to hold on to and stared at the floor. “Jesus Christ, get off me!”
“No.” He pinned me to him. “You behave like a brat, you get spanked. End of.”
He shoved up my short skirt, exposing my lacy black thong and bare buttocks.
I cried out in frustration and kicked up my legs. “I’m not playing this game any more. Get off me…now.”
“No way, little girl. Your behavior is terrible. You haven’t even let me explain why I went or what I found out.”
“I don’t fucking care, you loser, get off me.” I put all of my effort into escaping. Twisting and turning and kicking and nipping whatever bit of flesh on his legs I could find.
“Brat!” He smacked my bare ass cheeks, hard, his big hand covering both of them in one swipe.
I cried out. The sharp streak of pain was a lick of fire. “How dare you, I—”
Another smack and then another. The high-pitched sound of flesh on flesh pinged around the room.
“Mitch!” Damn it. The man was putting muscle into each strike on my buttocks. “That fucking hurts.”
“It’s supposed to. You need to learn to listen to me and not throw fucking pasta when I’m trying to reason with you.” He continued spanking me. Swift, stinging swipes that layered up the burn on my buttocks.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
I gasped and cried out. I bucked and wiggled and tried to escape. No chance.
Tears slipped from my eyes to my hairline, and my breaths were coming in stuttering pants. I refused to sob despite the humiliation and the hurt and the probable redness of my ass cheeks.
“Keep still.” His grip on me tightened. Vise-like. “And take your punishment. Think about your bad behavior. That’s the only reason you’re over Daddy’s knee getting smacked. It could have been avoided if you’d been a good girl instead of such a naughty one. I’m very disappointed in you.”
Before I could answer, he smacked my poor hot bottom again, lower this time, the space between my butt and thighs.
Fuck, that hurt.
“Oh…oh no…please. I’m sorry.”
He stopped and set his hand over my left ass cheek, grasped it roughly.
I winced. “Sorry.”
“Say it louder.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry.” And I was. Sorry that I’d seen red and hurled pasta at him. Sorry that I’d pushed him to this. Sorry that I’d disappointed him. “I’m sorry for being a naughty girl.”
He smoothed his palm to my right buttock, his palm callused, and his skin almost as hot as mine. “And are you sorry for not letting me explain?”
“Yes.” I sniffed
“Will you now?”
I hesitated and squeezed my eyes closed. Another tear pressed out. “I don’t want to think about that place, or talk about it.”
“So not tonight?”
“No…” Not ever. “Not tonight.”
“We need to at some point.” Suddenly he dragged me upright, so I was straddling his lap.
“Oh!” The world spun. Black dots encroached in my peripheral vision.
“Deep breath.” He cupped my cheeks. “Breathe, Amy, nice and deep.”
I did as he’d asked. The air went in and out of my lungs in a series of jerks.
“I’ve got you.”
I opened my eyes and stared into his.
Their dark depths flamed with passion and dominance and a determination that could forge steel. I let myself tumble into them, giving up everything to be truly his in this moment. My mind and body were barely my own as I shook and shivered.
“Naughty, bratty little girls get smacked bottoms,” he said gruffly. “You know that now. Daddy can’t always just give you nice things. You have to learn to behave, too. There are boundaries.”
I pursed my lips. My ass stung as though I’d sat in a patch of nettles with a bare butt.
“But you said sorry, which is progress. So hopefully you’ve learned your lesson. Have you?”
I nodded.
He brought my face closer to his. “Are you sure?”
His breath warmed my lips. “Yes.”
The right side of his mouth tilted into a smile. “Good.”
And then he was kissing me, his hands roaming down my body, pausing on my bra-less tits to massage them before gripping the base of my vest.
He broke the kiss to slip it over my head, tossing it aside, then ducked to kiss my neck.
I arched my back—his stubble blissfully rough on my skin—and ran my hands into his thick hair.
How quickly he’d flipped from discipliner to passionate. It was enough to make me dizzy all over again.
His warm mouth went lower, over my right breast, and then he took my nipple gently between his teeth.
“Oh…” I sighed and arched into him, wanting more of the heat and wetness of his tongue.
He gave it, sucking and nipping, drawing it to a stiff point.
I’d just been spanked, hard, punished by a big brute of a man, so why was I so turned on?
I couldn’t explain it but I was. Hell, it was as if neat lust had been poured into my veins; a drug that had me in its grip.
My pussy was damp and quivering, my clit pulsing. I ground onto his jean-clad lap, wanting stimulation.
Fuck! He was solid as a rock, too. Clearly, spanking me had given him a raging erection. Kinky fucker.
I rubbed some more, the rough denim grating on my clit blissfully.
He moved to my other breast and treated that nipple to the same delicious attention while he massaged my damp right breast. His other hand was on the hollow of my back, holding me close and encouraging my small grinding movements.
Suddenly wanting his flesh on mine, those thick chest hairs against my tits, I dragged at his t-shirt.
He obliged, practically ripping it off.
He let out a low growling sound then made quick work of tearing my thong from my body. With it went my skirt. I was naked except for the long white socks that had tiny bows on the top seams.
“We’re going to fuck now,” he rumbled. “And you’re going to come so fucking hard. We ain’t stopping until you do, you hear me?”
I nodded. I was breathing fast and my belly tense with longing. But could I come on his cock?
Would he be my first?
He ran his hand into my hair, fisted it, and yanked my head back so I was staring at the ceiling.
I gasped at the strong dominant hold, my pussy quivering around nothing, anticipating, longing, needing.
He slipped his other hand between my legs.
“Yes, please…oh…” I closed my eyes and stiffened for penetration.
His probing fingers found my entrance and eased in. “You’re so fucking wet. Dripping. My hand on your ass has turned you on. You love it. You love it when Daddy spanks his naughty little girl, don’t you.”
My mouth was slack. There were no words. I certainly couldn’t deny it because I didn’t think I’d ever wanted to fuck as badly as I did right now. I was burning up for it. Breathless for it. My pussy weeping for his cock.
He drew my face to his; his fingers were deep inside me. “You know I can please you,” he murmured. “So just give in to it. Give in to me. Don’t fight it.”
“Yes.” I nodded and clenched around him. “Yes. I want that. I want to come.”
“I know you do.” His voice was low and dirty, and he rubbed my special internal place. “Because you can’t resist Daddy’s big cock, can you.”