9. Flynn #2
She doesn't answer. But her fingers tighten in my shirt, her knuckles pressing against my ribs, and that's enough. For now, it's enough.
The car's engine ticks as it cools in the driveway. Faye's fingers tremble against the door handle.
"Inside," I say.
She swallows, her throat working. The porch light catches the sheen in her eyes. Fear. Shame. Anticipation.
I follow her up the steps, my boots heavy on the wood. The front door clicks shut behind us. The house is quiet. Too quiet.
I turn her to face me. Her breath comes fast, her chest rising and falling beneath the thin fabric of her blouse. I brush my thumb over her bottom lip. She flinches.
"You know what's going to happen next," I murmur.
She nods, her lashes fluttering.
"Say it."
Her voice is barely a whisper. "I need to be punished because I didn't stay put."
"Not just that." My hand slides to her throat, not squeezing, just resting there. Feeling the flutter of her pulse. "You put yourself in danger. You put our child in danger."
Her eyes squeeze shut. A tear slips free, tracing a path down her cheek.
I wipe it away with my thumb. "Open your eyes."
She does.
I lead her to the couch, sitting down and pulling her across my lap. She stiffens, her palms pressing against the cushions.
"Lift your skirt."
She hesitates. I wait.
Slowly, she gathers the fabric, pulling it up to her waist. Her panties are pale pink, damp in the center. I run my fingers over the wet spot, and she whimpers.
"I just touched you," I murmur. "And already so wet for me."
She shakes her head, but her hips shift, just slightly.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her thighs. She lifts her hips to help me, her breath hitching.
I don't spank her right away. I take my time, running my palm over the curve of her ass, feeling the heat of her skin. She's tense, waiting.
"Relax," I say.
She doesn't.
I bring my hand down. Not hard. Just enough to make her jump, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. A pink handprint blooms on her skin.
"Count."
"One," she whispers.
I do it again. And again. Each time, her voice grows softer, her body sinking into mine. By the time we reach ten, her ass is flushed, her thighs slick with arousal.
I slide my fingers between her legs, finding her soaked. She moans, her hips rocking against my hand.
"Such a good girl," I murmur. "Taking your punishment so well."
She whimpers, her fingers curling into the couch.
I lift her off my lap, setting her on her feet. She sways, her legs unsteady. I steady her with a hand on her hip.
"Bedroom," I say.
She leads the way, her steps slow, hesitant. I follow, my eyes on the sway of her ass, the way her thighs press together with each step.
In the bedroom, I sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her between my legs. I press a kiss to her stomach, just below her navel. Her hands tangle in my hair.
"Daddy," she whispers.
I look up at her. "Yes, princess?"
She bites her lip. "I'm sorry."
I stand, cupping her face in my hands. "I know."
I kiss her. Slow. Deep. She melts against me, her body softening, her fingers clutching at my shirt.
I break the kiss, my lips trailing down her neck, her collarbone.
I push her blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
Her bra follows, her tits spilling free.
They're fuller now, her nipples darker, more sensitive.
I take one into my mouth, sucking gently. She gasps, her back arching.
I switch to the other, my hand sliding between her legs. She's dripping, her clit swollen. I circle it with my thumb, and she moans, her hips jerking.
"Please," she whispers.
I don't make her wait. I lay her down on the bed, spreading her legs. I lick a slow stripe up her slit, tasting her. She's sweet, musky, perfect. I focus on her clit, my tongue swirling, my fingers sliding inside her.
She comes with a cry, her back arching off the bed, her thighs trembling around my head. I don't stop. I keep going, my fingers curling, my tongue relentless.
"Daddy, I can't?—"
"You can," I murmur against her. "And you will."
She comes again, her body shaking, her breath coming in sharp gasps. I don't give her time to recover. I flip her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up. I slide into her, slow and deep.
She moans, her fingers clutching at the sheets.
I lean over her, my lips at her ear. "You feel that, princess? That's me. Inside you. Filling you up."
She whimpers, her hips rocking back against me.
I start to move, my thrusts slow, deliberate. I reach around, my fingers finding her clit. She's sensitive, her body trembling with each touch.
"Daddy, please?—"
"Please what?"
"Please let me come."
I chuckle, my breath hot against her neck. "You want to come again?"
"Yes."
"Then come for me."
She does, her body clenching around me, her cry muffled against the pillow. I follow her over the edge, my release crashing through me, my cock pulsing inside her.
I collapse onto the bed beside her, pulling her into my arms. She curls against me, her breath slowing, her body relaxing.
I press a kiss to her forehead.
She sighs, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.
For a while, we just lie there. The room is quiet, the only sound our breathing.
Then she speaks, her voice soft. "I was so scared."
I tighten my arm around her. "I know."
"But you came for me."
"Of course."
She smiles, her eyes closing. I hold her tighter, my hand resting on her stomach.
Our child.
Our future.
I'll never let anything happen to either of them.