Page 55 of Until Daddy

“I’ll be a good girl now.” She sniffled and yanked her hand back from his grip to brace against the floor to steady herself.

He delivered a sharp slap to each cheek then stopped. The tears didn’t. She sobbed softly across his lap. All the anger she felt moments ago seemed lighter, nearly gone, even with a throbbing-hot backside.

She was lifted up from his lap, only to be put right back on it, though now her bottom was seated on his thighs instead of her tummy. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed her, and she tried to find a comfortable spot. There is no comfortable spot for a freshly spanked bottom.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her forward until she was resting her head on his shoulder. She continued to cry, but silently.

“Shhh, Carissa-girl. Daddy’s here. It’s going to be okay.”

“You’re going to let him take away the shelter. You can’t stop him.” She sniffled but didn’t pull away from him. She’d been angry with him. Not his father, but him, for seeming powerless.

They were facing a situation that even her daddy couldn’t fix. What could be worse than knowing he couldn’t help? And he’d promised.

“No more about the shelter tonight,” he decreed.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed. He may not be able to fix everything, to make everything all bright and better, but in that moment, in his arms, she felt safe from everything outside of them. Daddy would take care of her.

“My butt hurts,” she whispered into his ear. “Will you rub it?”

He pulled back, studying her face. “I think something can be arranged.” He stood from the table, carrying her as though she were weightless.

Only when they were in her bedroom did he put her down onto her feet. He worked the buttons of her blouse, one by one, until he’d undone the entire row. She watched his face, watched the concentration and the arousal flash across his features as he unwrapped her body.

He pushed the blouse over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She nibbled on the inside of her cheek as his hands cupped her breasts.

“Bad girls don’t get to have their pussies played with, isn’t that what I said to you before?” His voice came out choked, as though the idea of not fucking her in that moment was as painful to him as to her.

“Yes, Daddy.” She remembered, and she hated that he never let her come if she’d earned a punishment.

“And if I tell you tonight is no different, that tonight I’ll take what I want from your body, fuck you until I come and leave you completely void of any release, what will you do?”

Do? He wouldn’t, couldn’t do that to her. Would he?

“Nothing?” She tried to ignore the sensations his fingers were bringing her while he played with her nipples through the lace of her bra.

“That’s not an answer,” he chided, clearly amused by her worry.

“I’ll let you, I won’t argue,” she said with more confidence. She could try to manipulate him, could maybe steal her own orgasm, or take one later after he’d fallen asleep, but she wouldn’t. No, if Daddy didn’t give it to her, she wouldn’t just take it. She trusted him to give her what she needed, even if it was not what she wanted.

“There’s my good girl.” He slid his fingers into the cups of her bra, pushing them down until her breasts popped free. Taking her nipples between his fingertips, he began rolling them.

Her heart raced, her breath started to become shallow, but she kept her eyes on him.

“I love your tits.” He leaned down and began to suckle her right breast. As he did so, he released her other one and reached behind her, unclasping the bra, dragging the straps down her arms and letting the lacy fabric fall to her feet.

He pulled back, bringing his nose to gently rub hers. “I want you to offer your tits to me, Carissa-girl. Cup them and serve them to me.”

She swallowed. If she had still been wearing her panties, they’d be soaked already.

Cupping her breasts, she pushed them up, holding them steady for him as he brought his mouth back to her chest. “Good girl, feeding Daddy like you’re told.” He suckled the left breast, flicking his tongue over the peaked nipple as he sucked.

He bit down hard and released, moving back to the right breast. She hissed, fisting her hands until she could feel her own nails biting into her flesh as she held her breast to his mouth, rubbing his bottom lip with her nipple.

His grin showed his pleasure. “Do that again,” he ordered while sticking out his tongue. Her clit pulsated, begging for attention, a little touch, a caress—hell, a smack would do, just so long as there was connection.

Ignoring her own wants for the moment, she moved her breast so she was running her nipple up and down his tongue, feeling the roughness of it as she did so. Without warning he closed his mouth over her breast and sucked. Hard. She squealed a little and had to take a small step toward him. She dropped her breasts and steadied herself by holding his shoulders.

When he pulled away from her again, her nipple was wet, the cool air of the room sharpening the peak. He licked his lips. “Get on the bed,” he instructed, undoing his belt.

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