Chapter 18 Wyatt #3
He shifted his weight on the sofa, pulling her into his lap so she was sitting sideways, her face buried deep in the crook of his neck, her legs draped over his thighs.
He wrapped his massive arms entirely around her, locking her against his heat, and began to slowly, rhythmically rock her back and forth.
"Shh, I've got you," he rumbled into her hair, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her head, pressing her closer. "Daddy's got you, Bitsy. It's over. The bad part is all done."
Bitsy clutched at his lapels, her small fingers bunching the expensive fabric of his suit jacket as she cried quietly into his neck.
Her skin was still burning from the spanking, but the sheer, overwhelming safety of his arms was intoxicating.
She felt entirely protected, entirely seen.
The heavy burden of survival she had been carrying alone had just been forcibly stripped away, replaced by the unyielding boundaries of a man who wouldn't let her fall.
"You're a good girl," Wyatt murmured, rocking her steadily as her breathing began to slow, her hitches turning into soft, regular sniffs. "You took your punishment beautifully. I am so proud of you, sweetheart."
"I'm sorry, Wyatt," she whispered, her voice incredibly small, entirely regressed into little space. "I'll be good. I promise."
"I know you will," he said, kissing her temple. He kept holding her, letting the after-glow of the correction settle over them both until the apartment was completely quiet again.
After ten minutes of quiet cuddling, Wyatt gently shifted her weight, easing her back just enough to look at her tear-stained face. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a clean linen handkerchief, and gently wiped the moisture from her cheeks and under her eyes.
"Come on," he said softly, standing up and pulling her to her feet, though he kept a firm arm around her waist to support her wobbly legs. "Let me show you around your new home."
He guided her through the apartment, walking her into the large, modern kitchen. He opened the pantry doors, revealing shelves that were already completely stocked with groceries—healthy snacks, fresh produce in the fridge, and even a few cases of her favorite sweet tea chilling in the door.
"Vic handled the shopping yesterday," Wyatt explained with a small smile, watching her eyes widen as she looked at the abundance of food. "You don't ever have to worry about skipping a meal again."
He led her out of the kitchen and down a short, carpeted hallway, pushing open a door to reveal a massive, beautiful bedroom.
The center of the room was dominated by a king-sized bed piled high with plush white comforters and thick, inviting pillows.
Through an adjacent door, she could see a pristine bathroom with a deep soaking tub and a massive walk-in closet where a few basic necessities had already been neatly arranged.
"My place is the penthouse," Wyatt said casually, pointing his thumb toward the ceiling.
"Top floor. Exactly three levels above you.
If you need anything—if you have a nightmare, if you're scared, or if you just want your Daddy—you take the private elevator straight to the top. My door is never locked for you."
Bitsy stared at the massive, warm bed, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting her so hard her knees literally buckled. Wyatt caught her easily, pulling her back against his side.
"And one more thing," he added, his tone brooking no argument as they walked back into the living room.
"You are done driving that piece of thin-metal deathtrap you call a car. Tomorrow morning, it’s being towed to a secure storage lot.
I will be taking you to work every single morning at eight-thirty sharp, and I will be driving you home every evening.
You belong to me now, Bitsy, which means your safety is my responsibility. "
She didn't even have the energy to protest. The sheer comfort of the apartment, combined with the emotional release of the spanking, had left her completely pliant, her little headspace wrapping around her like a warm blanket.
"Yes sir," she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder.
"Good girl," Wyatt said, checking his watch. It was nearing four thirty. They still had the rest of the diagnostics to run at Enigma before the day was officially done.
He reached over the sofa, retrieving her black blazer and her coat from the back cushions.
He helped her slide into the blazer first, smoothing the fabric down neatly, then held up the heavy coat, wrapping her securely in it.
He gathered her small purse, adjusting the strap over his massive forearm so she wouldn't have to carry a single thing.
"Let's get back to the office and finish up the server logs," Wyatt said, wrapping a massive arm around her shoulders and guiding her toward the front door. "Then I'm bringing you right back here, ordering you a massive dinner, and putting you straight to bed."
Bitsy looked up at him through her lashes, a soft, genuine smile finally touching lips that were no longer trembling as they stepped out into the quiet hallway.