Page 48 of Daddy's Heart

“The glass is tinted on the outside. No one can see in,” he assured her as he left her to obey his command.

She wiggled her fingers, trying to find a way out of this mess. But there wasn’t any. He already knew, or at least partially, what was going on, and she’d been keeping it from him. How many times had he asked her if something was wrong while Paul and Anderson continued to bombard her with calls and texts? She’d lied each and every time.

But her intentions had to count for something. She’d been trying to protect him.

A door closed down the hall, and she scrambled to rip off her sundress and wiggle out of her bra, putting them in a pile on the coffee table. With her arms crossed over her chest, she waited for him.

When he came back, he carried a thick paddle in one hand and the pacifier gag in the other. Her mouth dried, and she took a wobbly step back. He fixed a heated glare on her that stopped her retreat from going any farther.

“Please, Daddy. I don’t—”

“Come here.” He pointed to the carpet at his feet where he’d stopped behind the couch.

She stared at the paddle.

“Sammy, come to Daddy right now,” he said in his growly voice.

With her stomach sinking to the floor, she shuffled across the living room to stand in front of him. She couldn’t lift her gaze to him, not yet. His disappointment filled the air between them.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to sit on the floor while I read through your phone. I want to see every text message and listen to every voicemail that pertains to this Randall guy.”

“You’re going through my phone?”

“Only regarding Randall. I won’t look at anything else.”

There wasn’t anything else. She’d been so buried in her schooling and dealing with Randall’s trial, she’d cut loose any friends she’d had. Not that she’d had anyone close to begin with.

“You don’t want me to just tell you?”

“I think you had your chance for that.” His eyes narrowed.

She lowered her gaze to his chest. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“Yes, you will. But first, this.” He uncapped his left hand to show her the pacifier he held in his palm.

“I don’t want to do that.” She shook her head.

“I know. But you will anyway.” He tossed the paddle onto the couch and draped the gag over the arm. The silicone bauble pressed against her lips. “Open, Sammy.”

She shook her head. “I don’t wanna.”

“That’s not the right answer.” He pushed the pacifier forward, and it popped through her lips, pressing down on her tongue. She scrunched up her face and started to push it back out, but he’d been prepared for that and pressed his finger to the outside ring.

“If you spit it out, I’ll use the gag,” he warned.

Her heart fluttered. The gag would be worse. She grunted, but kept the pacifier settled in her mouth.

“You have to suck lightly to keep it in place,” he said, still pressing his finger against it.

“No, I don’t,” she muttered, but it came out weird with the pacifier blocking her words.

“You do because I said you do.” He raised his brows. She stared up at him, her arms still hiding her breasts, her mouth now stuffed with the pacifier. Arguing wouldn’t win her any points.

“Go on, Sammy, suck.” He raised his chin a fraction, almost daring her to defy him. But she knew better.

Pushing aside the balloon of humiliation building in her chest, she followed his order and began to suckle the pacifier. A small smile curved his lips.

“Good girl. Now, sit on the floor with your legs crossed while I start reading. And drop your arms to your sides. Those titties aren’t for hiding.” He pushed her arms away from her chest and tweaked her nipples.

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