Page 26 of Daddy's Naughty List

Her face flaming, she let him take her shaking hand and lay it on her pussy. She’d touched herself before, but always late at night, under the covers, and with the lights off. Never with an audience.

It was one thing to watch people reach climax in the dungeon, and she wasn’t embarrassed by scenes anymore.

With Walt, everything was different, but she had to know.

“Daddy?”

He didn’t immediately reply. Instead, he lifted her hand to his mouth and sucked her index finger, then placed the wet digit over her clit. “What is it, baby?”

“I…” Unwilling to see his pity or distaste, she squeezed her eyes shut but needed to get the words out. “It’s my scars, isn’t it? You can tell me if they disgust you.”

Chapter Ten

Walt

Jonas Jamison was lucky he was already dead, with his ashes scattered atop the waste pile of a commercial hog farm.

He took a deep breath, then let it out, trying to center himself and tamp down the fiery rage in his chest before he spoke.

Susan was trying so hard to be brave, but it was clear she still struggled with her body image. He couldn’t call himself her Daddy unless he made damned sure she knew he loved every inch of her.

Maybe he should have been surprised at himself for thinking the l-word, but he wasn’t. Susan was more than her scars, and he was finally willing to admit he’d been falling head over heels for her since the day she testified against the man who never deserved to call himself her husband.

She’d worn pretty sandals, and a bright yellow sundress that fell to her knees and bared her shoulders as if she was daring the bastard to comment on her appearance.

Hell, she was one of the bravest people he’d ever known.

All he had to do was make sure she knew it too. While he was at it, he had to be careful not to say the l-word. At least, not yet.

Gently, he brushed a few tears from her cheeks and kissed her temple. “Stay where you are. I’ll be right back.”

“Um… yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Walt stole another kiss, then strode to the bathroom for the scar cream he hoped he still had. Thankfully, he found it at the bottom of a drawer, along with a bottle of unscented lotion. After returning to the bedroom, he set the items on the nightstand, then said, “Turn over, please.”

Her lower lip quivered, but she met his eyes and shook her head. “I’d rather not.”

“I know.” Slowly, he encouraged her to roll over, then stroked her tense shoulders. “But I promise you’ll be happy you did.”

She studied him, then nodded and rested her chin on her folded arms. “Okay, Daddy.”

“There’s my good girl.” He squirted lotion into his hand, then rubbed his palms together to warm it. “Have you ever had a massage before?”

“No, but Kendra says they’re very nice.”

“They are.” He straddled her hips and started working the lotion into her shoulders and down her back.

“Oh, my goodness.” The tension in her spine eased and she moaned softly. “That feels wonderful.”

“I’m glad.” He kept his focus on her upper back for several minutes before working his way down to her bottom and thighs. She stiffened when his fingers met the lines of scar tissue, but he didn’t stop massaging her.

“Sir, I?—”

“What do you need from Daddy, babygirl?”

“I mean, Daddy, I…” She hesitated, then said, “You don’t need to do this.”

“I know.” He swapped the lotion for the tube of scar cream and dabbed it on all the marks. “I’m giving you a massage because I want to, and because I want you to know that your scars don’t make you ugly.”

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