Page 11 of Teaching His Babygirl

“Good girl,” he growls, his hand slowly running up and down my thigh, petting my skin gently. I shift in his lap as the heat grows between my legs. Every stroke of his fingers brings him closer to the apex of my thighs, where I need him the most. I shiver when he barely grazes the wet gusset of my panties, arousing me further. It’s not enough. I need more—badly.

I whimper and wriggle myself closer to his hand, but he takes it away, not letting me seek out what I want. His other hand cups my breast, plumping and teasing over my clothes. He pinches my nipple, causing me to hiss out a breath, my core clenching, loving the bite of pain with the pleasure of being touched by him.

“Daddy…”

“Does my babygirl need something?”

“Yesss…” I hiss when he pinches my nipple harder, tugging on the sensitive bud.

He leans forward, gently licking and sucking at my neck—the sensations at complete opposites of the harsher touches to my breast. “What does my babygirl desire?” he growls against my skin.

“More…” I beg.

He chuckles lowly. “More what? Be specific.”

My cheeks flush with shyness. I love being dirty talked to, but I’ve never been any good at it myself. But I’m so worked up and want him so badly that I’ll do just about anything to please him. I want him so badly, I ache.

“I want you to touch me… m-my pussy,” I stutter out. “My breasts.”

His fingers trail up to my panties, stroking and rubbing me over the wet fabric. I throw my head back on a moan, wriggling my hips closer to the barely-there touch that’s only making my need for him worse. He massages my breast over my dress, giving me exactly what I asked for and nothing more.

“Under my clothes…” I gasp as his touches continue to ramp up my lust. “T-touch my skin.”

He stands me up in front of him and slowly unzips the back of my dress, letting it pool at my ankles. I stand before him in just my pink bra and panties. He lets out a growl of approval, kissing my stomach and up to the curve of my breasts over the top of my bra. He sucks my pale skin between his lips, sucking harder and harder until he leaves behind a bruise—marking me.

I’ve never liked that kind of thing. Hickies are something high school boys and girls do, not grown adults… but I love seeing his mark on me. I’m beginning to wonder what all I’ve been denying myself all these years, but I smash down that thought because I haven’t denied myself. I’ve been waiting for someone like Colt to come and wrest that control away from me. To completely and utterly stake his claim. I mentally shake my head. No… I wasn’t waiting for someone like Colt… I was waiting for Colt.

I can’t imagine another man having the kind of power over my body like him. There’s something about him that speaks directly to my base instincts. Whatever it is has my inner little ready to lay herself at his feet and do whatever he desires.

He stands in front of me, fully dressed in his suit and tie, looking proper and buttoned up but looking at me like a lion stalking his prey, and I’m the prey. I reach for him and push his jacket off his shoulders, and lay it over the arm of the chair. When I reach up for his tie, he grabs my wrists and shakes his head.

“I want to touch you,” I say, letting my desires be known like he commanded.

“Not yet. I’m not done touching you, my beauty.”

I flush at the praise. Have I ever been anyone’s beauty? I haven’t. I’m too curvy, too tall, always just too much of one thing or another. With Colt, I feel like his beauty. He makes me feel special. It’s a heady feeling.

I shiver when his hands run over my shoulders, down my back to the clasp of my bra. Within a second, he has my bra undone, and it’s on the floor with my dress. I gasp at the first touch of his big hands on my bare breasts. He hefts them in his hands, plumping them, then running his thumbs over my nipples.

My core clenches, and I feel like I might explode if he doesn’t touch me. As if he can sense my need, he slips his hand into my panties and lightly strokes my core. His fingers slip between my wet lips and rub across my clit. My legs buckle, and I would melt to the floor without Colt’s arm around my waist.

He walks me backward until my legs bump into the bed. Before I can sit, he turns me, and I find myself breathlessly over his lap, my bottom in the air.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” he asks with a growl. “You tried to run from me, naughty girl.”

“But-”

“No buts. You should’ve talked to me. We could’ve figured things out sooner, and both of us would’ve been happier. Instead, you avoided me every chance you got and kept me on tenterhooks.”

With a sigh, I grow slack over his lap, accepting his reprimand because he’s not wrong. I earned this spanking. “I’m sorry, daddy,” I say, meaning it.

“I understand why you avoided me, but avoidance is never the answer.”

“I know. I really am sorry.”

His hand caresses my bottom, tracing the edge of my panties, then pulling them down below my cheeks. “I think twenty-five… five for every day you avoided me.”

I nod, ready to accept his punishment. I grip his leg, preparing for the upcoming barrage. The first several swats are a tease… I know he’s warming me up. Preparing me for what’s to come. The next five tell me how right I was as his hand cracks down harder and faster.

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