Chapter Twelve #3
“I do. I must be consistent so you can depend on me.” Quinlan kissed her sweetly and delicately, sliding his tongue in with ease, exploring, moaning, and releasing her again.
“You’re like honey that I’m drawn to without control to stop.
Let’s go in here so you’ve something to lean on.
One swat for every drink over our agreement so four swats, over the jeans, but with my riding crop.
” Seeing the inklings of fear in her eyes, he said, “It’s okay, the flogger in our playroom scene last week was worse. I’ll be careful.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Quinn’s sexual tension was high. He chose a punishment that would lower his libido, keep her covered out in the stable where others might happen to come upon them, and where he could get it done quickly.
The sight of her bare bottom right now would be the end of his resolve to wait to take her completely.
He positioned her leaning forward on the stall divider and she put her hands inside the slats to lower the likelihood of her reaching back before he could redirect his swing.
Four firm, measured swats made short work of it, and with tears in her eyes, a bit of perspiration but no loss of dignity, she straightened herself.
Cheyenne had endured it and then fell into Quinn’s open arms.
“We are getting rid of all your riding crops, Sir.”
“Hmm, or adding more, and soon we will add the tawse if we have to deal with this issue anymore, understood? I never want to have to punish you over this ever again.”
Cheyenne nodded and added, “And I never want to experience the tawse, Sir.”
The next morning, Cheyenne was more subdued, with her four stripes still distinctly felt from the night before.
Following her into the bathroom, Quinn leaned in to gently lift her sleep shirt to see that she didn’t have any ill effects from the evening before.
He nodded in approval. He knew Cheyenne needed to see them this morning for reassurance because she had said it was something she looked for, but she also knew he wanted them to fade quickly after that.
He traced each stripe slowly and intently, putting pressure along their paths. “Do I need to freshen it up before you start your day?” he murmured behind her.
She whipped her face around to his and flushed deeply. She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe?”
As he watched her manner, it dawned on him that she needed extra assurance to start her day.
They hadn’t challenged her insecurities again since the scene they’d done for her checkup several months ago.
She hadn’t needed it, although he had offered a couple of times since.
Acting on his hunch, his voice deepened, became more paternal, and gently loving.
“Do you need Daddy to help you be a good girl this morning?” He watched his beautiful woman relax in front of him.
Sliding into her role without skipping a beat, she replied in a slightly smaller voice, “Um, I don’t know. Please, Daddy, I don’t want you to give me pink cheeks.”
“But pink looks so good on you, beag amháin and I think you need it to be good. Don’t you?”
She nodded her head.
“Cheyenne, Daddy needs your words, baby.”
“Yes, Daddy, help me be good, but can you please not make it too hard?”
“Now it’s Daddy’s choice, right?”
“Yes, Daddy, but... Yes, Daddy.”
Her breathing had stepped up to quicker, shallower breaths.
Small tremors shivered through her as Quinn propped his foot on the tub and leaned her over his knee.
He caressed her bottom for a moment before lifting up her cotton nightshirt and landing ten lighter than normal swats.
It was partly play, after all, and he wanted her to enjoy it as well as be comforted by it.
At nine, she squealed, “Daddy!” He quickly popped her lovely cheek one last time, and after a couple more rubs, he stood her so he could sit on the toilet seat and bring her down to his lap.
“I love you,” he growled. He watched her as she glowed from the inside. He physically inflated with what she imagined was his own warmth at their connection. “You are mine.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
He leaned in to kiss her lips and reminded her of his expectation of behavior as well as giving the signal of the end of play. “Stay out of trouble, beag amháin.”
She smiled and said, “I’ll do my best,” laughing when he landed a parting slap on her bottom.
Cheyenne brought her breakfast out to the flower gardens to eat and walk.
Katie, saying it was more fun to eat with the family, came over for breakfast. Ciarán was on his second breakfast, his wife having fed him his first several hours ago.
Quinn strode back into the kitchen after setting up his part of the day in a chipper mood, smiling big at Jocelyn.
“Good morning, sweetheart. How are things looking for today? What’s on your agenda?” Quinn asked his oldest sister-in-law.
Jocelyn rolled her eyes. “Figures. You O’Connor men are a sadistic law unto yourselves.”
“Wow, that stung. Has my reputation preceded me? Was I too loud this morning, or do I need to discuss what privacy means to my fiancée?” He lifted his eyebrow but didn’t even attempt to hide his grin as he watched Jocelyn’s cheeks grow pink.
“Oh, I thought I heard your voice,” stated Cheyenne, walking back into the house and raising her face for his kiss.
Quinn looked at Jocelyn and said, “Must have been my reputation.”
Jocelyn blew out a sound that was loaded with frustrated laughter at his grin. “Yes, that must be it.”