Page 68 of Ruin Me, Daddy

“You are, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

It was torture, forcing himself to pull away, but the game was going to be over before it started if he didn’t. So he drew his hand back, leaving her standing in the middle of the room in that sexy little goth schoolgirl outfit, her head swiveling from side to side as she tried to figure out what was going on.

Catching Beckett’s eye, he pointed to her tank top. “Let’s get you undressed, baby.”

With a wicked grin, Beckett reached for her top, slowly pulling it up to her armpits, exposing the black lace cupping her gorgeous breasts.

“Who’s undressing you now, baby?”

“You are, Daddy,” she replied, a confident smile stretched across her face.

“Oh, baby. You were doing such a good job. Pity.”

Game on.

Silver

Shit.

She’d been so sure it had been Ice stripping her bare. But now that she knew it was Beckett, she could tell the difference. Ice was still standing in front of her, for starters, and it was clear the person undressing her was doing so from behind her.

A stupid, careless mistake, because she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion without bothering to take a second to really think about the evidence.

And she had no doubt that mistake was going to cost her.

“Arms up, baby, so we can finish undressing you.”

She obeyed with a quiet sigh, and the tank top disappeared. A moment later, someone was unhooking her bra.

No, not someone. Beckett. His fingers were slightly more slender than Ice’s, the tugs at her bra snaps not quite as firm. It surprised her that he was so tender, and she tucked that information away for later.

When she was naked from the waist up, Beckett cupped her breasts, and she let her head fall back as pleasure washed over her. And it was definitely Beckett. Unlike her Daddy’s hands, these had no calluses. The skin was softer, smoother, exactly like someone who worked in an office all day.

Not that it wasn’t perfectly lovely. There was no doubt Beckett Stone knew his way around a woman’s body. And when his thumbs brushed over her stiff nipples she groaned at the flash of need between her thighs.

Then he got mean.

Pain lanced through her as his fingers clamped down around her nipples, twisting just enough to make her whimper.

“Are you going to pay more attention now, sweetheart?” Beckett asked, his voice syrupy sweet. Deceptively so, like he was just waiting for her to disappoint them so he could punish her again.

“Yes, Sir.”

Another whimper escaped her lips as his hands left her. The pain had already faded, leaving behind the memory of an ache that made her wish they’d just fuck her already.

But then his hands were on her again, wrapping something around her wrists to bind them together. Rope of some kind. Which meant it was definitely Beckett, because Ice preferred leather over rope, other than the time he’d had her tied to a chair as he’d interrogated her about her night at Black Light.

“Who’s tying you up, baby?”

If she hadn’t been sure it was Beckett before, she knew now. The man tying her wrists together was standing right in front of her, while Ice’s voice came from her right.

“Beckett.”

Daddy’s lips closed over her nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her clit as he sucked. He repeated the action on the opposite breast, and she sighed happily as she accepted her reward.

“Good girl,” he whispered when he lifted his head again. “Arms up.”

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