Page 86 of Cook

It wouldn’t happen—I’d never use the safe word—but the things he said and the bulge behind his zipper made promises that I wanted to see come to life.

“What do you say?” he asked.

I peeked up at him through my eyelashes. Did he really mean it? He wore a drawn face, determination etched into his features.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered.

“Yes, Daddy, what?” he demanded. It was the first time he’d used the word with ease, only punctuating the wordwhatat the end of the question.

“I will use my safe word if needed.”

Before another thought could cross my mind, his hands were on my waist, flipping me onto my back. The bed bounced beneath me, and I sucked in an audible gasp. The way he moved me was perfect. Rough and forceful like I knew he would be able. From the moment I’d laid eyes on him, I’d seen what he hid under that exterior.

My palms landed on his forearms, but he was gone before they could roam over him. He grasped one ankle and a cuff affixed to the bedpost.

“What ar—”

“Hush,” he said as he buckled it around my left ankle and cinched the straps so my leg couldn’t fall flat onto the bed.

Next, he grabbed the other leg and tied it to the footpost on my right. On my back with my legs spread wide, I watched the glorious man as his shoulders rose and fell. His mouth was set in a grim line, but when I lowered my eyes to his crotch, it looked as bulky as ever.

Good. I wanted him thick and rigid and strong when that cock finally met my pussy.

I tried to sit, but he came around to the side of the bed and placed a meaty hand in the center of my chest, pushing me down.

“Don’t move from that position, or I’ll string up your hands too.” He mused for a second and then added, “That would ruin my plans.”

My mouth and pussy watered, and I considered sitting up just to see if he’d follow through. He must have read the intent in my eyes, because he grasped the little belt-like paddle and slapped it across my thigh. I cried out, but then the sharp pain faded into a delicious tingle.

It twisted the memories of belts on my skin into something not so terrorizing. And when my daddy’s warm and rough hand rubbed the mark he’d just made, I leaned into the sensation and drew my lip between my teeth.

A needy groan escaped my lips.

Daddy stood up and opened the wardrobe’s lower drawer, pulling something out and returning to the bedside. He touched it to my bare thigh where he’d swatted me before, and the coolness soothed the remnants of the sting.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” I breathed.

He seemed pleased. “I’m going to leave this here. Don’t touch until I give you permission.”

Cook dragged the chair that I’d been sitting in earlier over to the foot of the bed, just off the platform. Turning, perhaps judging the distance, his eyes fell to the V at the apex of my thighs.

Leaning over the foot of the bed, he reached for me, and I shivered with anticipation.

“Bou gave you those panties?”

“Yes.”

“They’re no good for you. I’ll buy you something better.” He grabbed the waistband and ripped, shredding the material from my body.

As his face hovered over my needy pussy, he inhaled through his nose, closing his eyes as though he were smelling a flower.

“There we go,” murmured Cook. “Now, I can see her.”

I gulped.

A deep chuckle filled the room, and Daddy smirked. “You are so wet for me, baby girl.”

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