Page 215 of Daddy, Take Me Away
“Good. I’m glad that’s settled. Now, over my lap.” I wanted to laugh aloud at her expression. “Do you really need to ask why?” I chided.
Incredulousness morphed to humor and then desire. “No, Daddy.” She bit her bottom lip and slid over my lap.
I brought my hand down on her perfect upturned bottom, loving my mark on her pale flesh. This wasn’t about punishment, however, and I kept my pressure on the lighter side, as I focused on her sit-spots. The blood flow would soon penetrate, and she’d be squirming, looking for relief from the deep thrumming heat. I planned on giving her just that.
Chapter Thirteen
Three months later
Luna
“Have a nice flight,” Graeme and Donna called out as we approached Artair’s private jet. I’d wanted them to come with us, as Donna had quickly become my best friend in Scotland, but they were looking forward to Graeme having time off, and her all to himself for the next three weeks. I turned to wave one last time and stumbled. Large hands reached out to steady me.
“Thank you! Sorry, I’m having a tough time, but you don’t need to know that. Oh, sorry. Ugh, I’m rambling.” I smirked at Artair, hoping he’d get the reference, and turned to continue up the steps.
“Now, now, lass, where are your manners?”
My inner goddess danced. Yay! He remembered. Turning back around, I faced him. “I’m sorry?”
“Are you?”
“Huh?”
“Are you sorry?” he asked in his thick brogue accent that always made me weak in the knees.
“For what?” I husked, getting more turned on every second. The light caught the limbic ring of his eyes, making it look like they were on fire. I gulped. One thing I‘d learned about Artair; he was an animal in the sack, and with this little drama playing out between us, I’d just ensured he would get his way with me on the flight to Vancouver.
His lips quirked up in a predatory smile. “That is the question indeed.” He swatted my bottom. “Go sit, lass. I will place your bag in the overhead for you.”
“Uh, thank you, Mr…?”
His perfectly formed lips pulled at the corners. “Artair is fine, lass, no need for Mister. But, you can always call me Daddy.”
“Arthur?”
“Close, but this is the Scottish Gaelic form, pronounced, AHR-ter.”
“Airteer?”
“Now you're just asking for a spanking.”
I couldn’t hold back the giggle. “Am I?”
“Aye, lass, you are, and as soon as we’re in the air, I’m going to tug the hem of your tight skirt over your pretty bottom and decorate it with my handprints.” He leaned forward, speaking conspiratorially. “And if you keep it up, I’ll do more than spank your bottom.”
I squeezed my thighs against the wave of excitement that made me slick. But there was no hiding from Artair.
“Aye, that's what I thought. Now sit down and buckle up, or I’ll take you and not let you orgasm.”
I pretend-pouted. “You’re a mean Daddy.”
“And you, my little flight risk, are a very dirty girl.”
I couldn’t hold back the smile. “I’m not a flight risk anymore, Daddy.”
He held my gaze, filled with nothing but love. “Aye, and I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
My heart filled. Since I’d given in to my desire and stayed with him, Artair had become more open, sharing his feelings regularly and creating a safe place for me to do the same.
