Page 38 of Paddy

“Chamomile.” He bent down to kiss my cheek.

“That's my sweet girl.” Another kiss to the other. “I wish I could shower you all day in kisses, but you made some slipups today that can't go unpunished. Would you like to know what you did wrong? Answer me with yes or no.”

“Yes, Daddy. I would like to know where I failed you,” I asked, his callused hands rubbing along my back and bottom.

“Your first slipup was when I asked you to strip from me. Instead of complying, you chose to question me. When you question me, it tells me you’re thinking too much, and naughty girls like you don't need to be thinking when Daddy gives you an order.”Smack! His hard paddle met my ass in a stinging slap. I'm ashamed to admit it made me flinch.

“Now onto two. When I gave you an order to sit on my face, you questioned whether I can handle you. A little bit of weight ain't gonna stop me from pleasing you. Don't ever do that shite again.”Smack! I fidgeted in his lap, toes curling and nerves seizing. That one was even harder than the last, but the idea of taking pain from him made me hopeful and anxious for more, especially when he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine, the pain dissolving with the promise of pleasure.

“Three. When I had you there, you went back to thinking again. Robbing me of being lost between your thighs.” Another smack, one that for sure would leave me red and limping.Whack! Because I stopped touching myself.Whack! Because I didn't warn him that I was about to come. By the tenth smack, I swear he was just making stuff up, but he got what he wanted. I was finally in tears. I felt like a baby, sobbing and shrinking asI fought to cover my face, only he turned me in his lap and held me.

“It's okay, sweet girl, it's okay. Daddy's here,” he said, reveling in the tears that he made, his lips pressing to my tear-stained cheeks and forehead. It felt nice to feel his strong arms around me. Sensing my need for something soft and gentle, he stroked my hair, rocking me back and forth, the whispers of his affirming words bringing me back to Earth.

“You're so beautiful when you cry. I don't hurt you because I loathe you. I hurt you because your tears give me power. A purpose. I want you to stop being hard on yourself. Think you can do that for me?” I nodded, appreciating his tenderness as he instructed me to sit on my stomach. Squeezing something in his hand, he rubbed it on my bottom in delicate circles, soothing some of the pain from his striking. He took his time, alternating between rubs and light kisses, his focus on my needs being surprisingly comforting.

“Can I get you some water?”

“That might help,” I cooed as he left his room to grab me a glass of water. It was the first time I had a chance to look at the changes he had made to the room. The Irish flag hung proudly in one corner, and a few framed medals decorated the dressers, along with a few family photos. He returned with a glass of water, careful as he tended to my bare bottom.

“You're stillreallyhard.”

“That's because I didn't come.” I pursed my lips, feeling slightly insecure considering the time that I had. “Before you go thinking something foolish, I told you. It’s not always just the sex for me. The paddling is just as satisfying. Plus, I like touching you. Your body is so soft,” he said with another kiss to it, his finger slipping sneakily near my folds.

“Your pussy soaking,” he remarked, spreading my legs apart as his tongue explored me.

“Mmm…” I moaned. “That feels nice, Paddy. But if you really want to torment me, I say let's not let that hard dick to waste.” I leaned up on my elbows, ass in the air like a dangling carrot. With a light slap to my ass, he wedged himself behind me.

“I feel like this arse is going to give me some hell. Hell, I might not even last that long seeing it bounce back and forth on me.Mmm...” he moaned with his first thrust coming with a bite to his lip. His first strokes were slow and punishing, his breathing low and concentrating until he picked up a faster pace. It felt so delicious being used by him. The former pain I felt had dissipated replaced by the building sensation of pleasure.

Behind me, it was like a whole other fetish unlocked, his length taking on another form of mind-blowing pleasure.

“Oh fuck, Pretty. I'm going to fucking come,” he warned, gripping onto my shoulders to drive deeper inside. I cried out, astounded that he’d delivered yet another climax just from the wildness in his rough strokes alone. He switched to both hands on my hips, his moans sounding adorably desperate.

“Oh, fuck.” Was the last warning I got before his creamy release coursed its way through my core, a transfer of energy, an even exchange.

“Just when I think it can't get any better,” I panted, only he was quick to get dressed with a shift in his mood that confused me. “You don't have to be in a rush to get dressed,” I said, only I'd argue that since he never took his pants off, it was really just his shirt.

“Did I do something wrong?” I leaned up, feeling the coldness in his shift in demeanor.

“Of course not. We both had an itch that we needed to scratch, we accomplished that. But I don’t think this should happen again. I'm going to go out for a smoke. Feel free to see your way out.”

Sixteen

Paddy

I surprised even myself with how I'd handle things with Pretty. On one hand, I shouldn't have even entertained the idea of sleeping with a married woman. On the other, it felt sinfully satisfying knowing she broke her bout of involuntary celibacy just to be with me. I knew from the moment she kissed me that what we were doing was immoral, but what I wasn't expecting was how addictive I found her presence to be. That was why after the first time, I had to put an end to it. There was no way I'd ever be able to stop pursuing her if I went back for another taste.

In the past few weeks she'd been respectful, ignoring it altogether and just letting me do my job. But there was a hurt in her eyes that left me stricken with shame knowing I was the one who put it there. I know I had hurt her feelings, but I didn't see another way to go about things without digging ourselves into a hole we couldn't get out of.

It was just better this way. I fancied her too much to see her sacrifice her livelihood. Plus, I convinced myself that she'd likely never accept the real me anyways. The me with the hidden scars. The me that woke up to bloody nightmares.

Using the main kitchen to prepare a few snacks for later, Pretty walked in, her demeanor especially prickly as she poured herself a glass of water at the kitchen sink.

“Everything going all right, Mrs. Washington?” She pursed her lips.

“So, we're back to that again? Okay…” she said, laying her cup down on the counter beside me before caressing her cheek, worry obvious in her expression.

“I feel like I've respected your space. Tried not to overstep my boundaries, but I don't know how long I can do this for. The ignoring each other. Pretending like nothing happened. I'm not built like you, Paddy. I can't justturnmy feelings off. For Christ's sake, you've been inside me. Something about our time together entered the depths of something missing in my soul. The part of me that wishes I didn't have to be the strong Black woman everyone thinks I am. The part of me burdened with responsibility. Foronce, I got to be taken care of. That may not have meant that much to you,” she paused, wiping away the stray tears that fell from her eyes.

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