Page 82 of Until I Find You

“I don’t want you to forget that Daddy still…”

Please say loves you.

“Wants to take care of you.”

Dammit.

“You understand?”

“I understand, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

We linger there a while, his touch warming and tender to me.

“Five.”

I curl my toes.

“One for coming to see Daddy without telling him first.”

His hand strikes my ass, the sting flaming across my skin.

My body jumps and I gasp.

It’s painful, the way a bruise is painful. The way you need to touch to know more about it.

Four more.

“One for wearing this outfit and making Daddy hard.”

Another smack, this time to the other cheek. I cry out, an interested, surprised sound from the back of my throat.

“One for not allowing Daddy to take care of you.”

Another. This one sends a zing straight to my clit. I grab onto his leg, wrap my mouth around the fabric of his sweatpants.

“One for embarrassing Daddy in front of his friends with stories you weren’t supposed to tell.”

This time, I tip forward a bit, moaning from intertwining pleasure and pain. I wriggle my hips against him, desperate to rut and make myself come.

Jack’s next touch is not another blow. It is a caress that travels down each of my thighs, over my ass. The touch is taunting and, at the same time, worshipping.

His breath is shallow and measured, each drawn out inhale and exhale trapped in the center of his chest.

“And one more because you made Daddy punish you.”

My eyes shoot open before the strike. It is his hardest and most intense blow.

I release the fabric from my mouth and whimper. Feels so good being so bad.

“There,” he says with a final, releasing sigh. “That’s better. Right?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now, I hope you learned your lesson and don’t make Daddy punish you again.”

Jack opens his legs and allows me to fall through them onto my knees before him.

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