Page 75 of Saving Sophia

“I get to pick a rule?” My eyes widened.

“You get to make a suggestion,” he said with a smirk. “I have veto power.”

“Umm …” I searched for an idea. “Spaghetti tacos for dinner once a week?”

He laughed. “How about once a month?”

I stuck out my lip for a moment, making him grin, but couldn’t hold it because of my own grin. “Okay, once a month. But then, I get to do your hair too?”

He pushed me backward on the bed and stood over me, his legs pressed against the edge. “I’ve seen you with your dolls’ hair. You use sharp instruments and hot glue—no deal.” He lifted my leg so that he could kiss my inner knee while one hand slipped off my sock.

I shivered and squirmed back.

“Be still,” he warned, his goatee scratching my skin. He switched legs, tugging off my other sock while nibbling along the bend of my knee. “Next rule. Daddy dresses you. And undresses you.”

His hands found the buttons of my shorts and undid them, the muscles of his forearms flexing with each popping release. His thumbs grazed my tummy before he hooked them into the belt loops of my shorts, easing them over my hips and down my thighs.

I let out a shuddering breath. “Okay.” I lifted my legs up, my toes pointing.

“Yes, Daddy,” he corrected as he pulled my shorts the rest of the way off and tossed them to the floor.

“Sorry. Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s another rule.” He pushed my legs apart and stood between them, staring down at me, bare except for my panties from the waist down. “No saying sorry if you haven’t done anything wrong.”

I tensed, worry starting up like a cranky lawnmower in my head. “I c-can’t?—”

“Non-negotiable.” He reached out for my hands and pulled me up to sitting, extending my arms over my head. “It’s a habit, and it’s harmful to you. It’s my job to put a stop to that.” He slid my T-shirt over my head where it quickly joined my shorts on the floor.

My hands rested on his chest. My face an inch from his hard abs and hard … other things just below. I pressed my forehead against him, trying to absorb his words.

He stroked my back and bent to place a gentle kiss on top of my head. “Let me lead you.”

That silky command quieted the grumbling motor in my mind. I sighed with relief into the warm cotton of his shirt. He shuddered and pulled me closer. He unclasped my bra and slipped it off my body.

I slid my hands down to his belt buckle, but he stopped me, taking my wrists and slowly laying me back down on the bed. His pants rubbed against my inner thighs, raising goosebumps and making me tremble. I was spread out before him, in only my panties. He remained fully dressed, his power somehow magnifying my nakedness.

He crossed his arms and tilted his head, a crooked smile tugging his lips up. “Such a good girl. Do you like following my rules?”

“Yes, Daddy.” I squirmed under his praise. My nipples tightened, and I felt a rush of arousal. Knowing I was on display for him only made me wetter.

“Do you need a warm bottom before Daddy makes you come?” He grabbed my hips, rolling me over onto my tummy, my hips bent, legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

I squealed in surprise, but his hand pressed the small of my back, steadying me.

“Ask me,” he commanded.

“Please, Daddy,” I said, my face pressed into the sage green comforter. I hesitated. What did he want me to ask? I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, hoping the right words would come. “Please … warm my bottom … before you make me come.”

He groaned his pleasure at my request, his fingers tracing down my spine to find the edge of my panties. He pulled them off roughly—firm, demanding, but not hurting me.

“Perfect,” he growled over my naked body. “You truly are my perfect, sexy little girl.”

My inner thighs were slick with my response.

A stinging slap across my bottom relit the fire from my recent spanking and made me gasp, more in surprise than pain. The aftershock warmed my skin and connected directly to my core.

“I knew it from the moment I first saw you,” he said, laying down another strike against my flesh. “I wanted to make you mine.”

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