Page 175 of Daddy, Take Me Away
There was a heavy pregnant silence as we both remembered why we’d been so desperate for a distraction in the first place.
Polly’s mouth fell open and her chest rose and fell with lustful panting breaths. Her throat constricted as she swallowed, and I was seconds away from ripping her clothes off right there when thunder boomed around us again, breaking the spell.
“Shit,” I swore, shaking off the lust threatening to paralyze me and turning over the engine to start the truck. “We’ve got to get down this mountain.”
Polly just smiled. “I’ve always wanted to be kissed in the rain, though, Daddy.”
Side-eyeing her as I carefully navigated us to safety, I grunted. “Did you also always want to have your wet jeans peeled off and feel Daddy’s belt across your wet bottom? Because I swear to goodness, little girl, as soon as we’re back to the main road, we’re finding a hotel for the night, and that’s exactly what’s coming.”
Chapter Twelve
Polly
I was pretty sure Cas was joking about spanking me with his belt. At least, I had been until we checked into the first hotel we came across, a roadside mess with outside doors, and a metal roof that looked like something out of a horror film. I couldn’t fault him though. The rain was still coming down too hard to see, and Cas had been pretty much driving blind with a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel all the way here.
When we pulled up in front of our room for the night, I reached back to grab my things, and Cas shook his head. “They’ll just get soaked. Let’s get inside and see if the rain eases up.”
I didn’t bother pointing out that we had no dry clothes to change into and this wasn’t exactly the type of place to have robes in the bathroom.
We ran for the door, using a keycard to unlock it and slammed it shut behind us, pressed up against the door as if to block the wind from pushing it open again.
Then our eyes met, and Cas’ were dark and needy. “I swear to god, babygirl. If you ever do that again…”
“Do what, Daddy?” I blinked innocently, but I knew exactly what he meant. Cas brought out my inner brat.
His only response was a feral growl as he whipped my wet shirt over my head and pushed my soaking jeans down to the floor, ridding my body of both them and my boots with one hard tug as he pushed me backward onto the bed.
His clothes came off next, and he climbed on the bed, kneeling over me, as he covered my body with his. My lips parted, his hot breath warmed my cheek, and butterflies filled my tummy as my pussy became as drenched as the rest of me.
I pushed my legs open, a clear invitation, and ran my hands over his shoulders, around his front, across his abs, and down, until my fingers were centimeters from his hard cock. I could almost taste him, that’s how horny and ready I was.
And the next thing I knew, his hands were gripping my waist and I was flying through the air, landing face down across his wet, naked thighs.
“Aaahhh!” I screeched, immediately throwing my hands back to cover myself. My reaction was instinctual.
Cas just pushed them out of the way and held them tightly to the center of his back in one of his as he brought his hard hand down across my dewy damp skin.
The books were right. Spankings did hurt worse on a wet bottom. “Daddy!” I shrieked, attempting escape.
Cas scissored my legs between his, holding me tightly in place as he brought his hand down again and again. There was nowhere for me to go.
“Daddy,” I cried. “Whhhyyy?” I was pretty sure I knew, but I thought if by some miracle he didn’t remember, maybe the punishing blows would stop, or at least let up while he thought about it.
They didn’t.
Instead they fell relentlessly and in case I had any qualms about how I’d ended up in my current position, Cas began to lecture. “Little girl, you do not, ever, put yourself in danger. You do not, ever, jump a safety guard on the edge of a cliff to get a better picture. Especially not in a storm. A picture of a fucking storm cloud is not worth your life.”
I probably should have agreed with him. That would have been smart. Apparently smart is something I’m not.
“Pfft,” I said instead. “The guard rail was more like a suggestion, or like, there for children. It’s nearly a whole-ass football field away from the edge.”
“A football field is three hundred and sixty feet,” Cas responded. “The guard rail to the cliff was ten at best.”
“Same thing,” I muttered. “I’m not an idiot, and I wasn’t in any danger.”
I braced myself for a fresh volley of smacks. Instead, I found myself sliding off his lap and being deposited face first down on the thin, pilled bed covers, while Cas rustled around behind me.
Shock whooshed the breath from my lungs as I looked over my shoulder to see Cas pulling his worn leather belt free of the loops of his discarded jeans.
