She braced for the first swat, and nearly laughed out loud when it landed so softly she barely felt the sting. It was so reminiscent of the first couple times he’d spanked her that her heart swelled with love for him at the memory.
He’d done this for her. Become her Daddy, given her rules and discipline because it was somethingshe’dneeded. How could she possibly resent him now?
But unlike those first times, there was no hesitancy. Although the swats were more gentle than a punishment, they were slow and measured. Deliberate. And with each one she could feel the need between her thighs growing hotter.
Until she couldn’t take another second of his delicious torment.
“Daddy,” she whined, grinding her hips against his thigh, again so much like that first time. Except now there was no embarrassment on her part, no trying to hide her need from him.
“What’s wrong, baby?” There was a sweetness to his tone, but too much sweetness. Almost like he was mocking her. “Do you need something?”
Now there was embarrassment, and she buried her face in her arms even as she continued rocking her hips against him. “Please, Daddy.”
“Hmm. I wonder what could be wrong with my naughty little baby?” She felt as much as heard his chuckle as the spanking stopped and his hand drifted lower. “Perhaps I should check your temperature again, Tayter Tot. But we’ll need some lubrication for your little bottom hole.”
A moan escaped her when his fingers dipped between her soaked pussy lips, plunging deep into her aching, wet heat.
“Ah, perfect. Just the right amount.”
And then his fingers were gone. But only for a moment before one pressed against the tight ring of muscle between her warm bottom cheeks.
“Daddy!” she squealed, fluttering her feet against the cushions. “What are youdoing?”
“I told you. Taking your temperature to make sure you’re not ill.”
“That isnothow you take a temperature!”
“Agree to disagree,” he said with another of those low, wicked laughs. “I think this is just as effective as any thermometer.”
“It’s not!”
A sharp swat, harder than any of the ones before, landed on her right cheek. “Daddy knows best, little girl. Stop arguing.”
Pouting, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. “I don’t want my temperature taken.”
One dark brow rose in a look that had her stomach and her pussy quivering. “Who’s in charge here, Taylor Grace?”
“Y-you are, Daddy.”
“So if Daddy says you need your temperature taken, what should you do?”
“Let you take my temperature?”
“That’s my good girl.” With his gaze still locked on her, he pumped his finger in at out of her bottom, mimicking the act she so desperately wanted. “And what do good girls get, Taylor?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“They get to make themselves come over Daddy’s lap, while Daddy fucks their pretty little bottom. Would you like that?”
She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more in that moment. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Make yourself come so Daddy can feel that naughty little bottom squeezing his fingers.”
Sweet Jesus, when did the man learn to talk like that? Overcome by him, by her own need, she did as she was told and flexed her hips, pressing her clit against his thigh. The action caused the muscles in her bottom to squeeze his finger, reminding her rather forcefully of how she was being violated.
And sending a shockwave of molten-hot need coursing through her.
Burying her face in her arms again to hide her shame, she ground herself into the soft material of his pajama pants over and over, pleasure and pain flashing through her in equal measure with every movement. Her whimpers peppered the air around them as she worked herself into a frenzy over her Daddy’s knee.