Page 106 of The Rogue and His Flower

“Please.”

“Okay,” he relents, releasing me from his hold before placing his hands on my hips and urging me to rise. “Lean your body over my shoulder, Daisy. Grab the back of the bath to steady yourself. I’m going to spank you five times, but that’s it, that’s all I’m prepared to do. Don’t ask any more of me.”

“I won’t,” I agree, rising out of the water and draping myself over his shoulder as he wraps one arm around the back of my thighs.

Grasping the edge of the bath, I bite down on my bottom lip, my father’s voice getting louder and louder inside my head with every passing second.

“I’m going to count them down, okay. Ready?”

“Yes…”

“One!” he says almost immediately, and then his palm lands across my arse, slapping me so hard that for a moment all I’m aware of is white-hot heat. It’s painful, blissfully so, and I cry out, my fingers curling around the bath. The sharp sting fadesas quickly as it came, and behind it follows a soothing blankness that envelops me right before he spanks me again.

“Two!”

Another sharp slap. More pain. More bliss.

“Three!”

Tears burst from my eyes, my body stiffening then relaxing as the sting spreads out, reaching every crevice, filling up the cracks with a sense of relief as my father’s voice fades into the distance.

“Four!” he grinds out, his arm tightening across my thighs, as my body turns liquid.

My cries become mewls of pleasure, the pain transforming into a peaceful kind of euphoria, a dizzying, buffeting lust, that I willingly fall headfirst into.

“Five!” he finishes, and the second his palm meets my sore arse, he reaches upwards, dragging me back down onto his lap. The warm water hits my stinging skin and I hiss from the pain as I fall into him, my body limp, my mind empty as I drag in deep lungfuls of air, quivering against him.

“Daisy?” Dalton questions, his voice gravelly, thick, as he gently nudges me upright, cupping my face as my eyes try to focus. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

I’m more than okay, I feel… free.

I feel… turned on.

My pussy contracts, my clit throbbing as the stinging fades, one intense feeling merging with another as pain gives way to pleasure.

“Kiss me,” I demand, my fingers gliding up his chest, my pussy pressing against the thick ridge of his cock.

With his gaze never leaving mine, Dalton nods once, his eyes glittering with fire, with empathy, with something else I can’tquite decipher, as he presses his lips to mine and kisses the air from my lungs, and any lingering memories from my mind.

This kiss is fervent, desperate, heightened in a way I haven’t experienced before, and I sink into it, caught up in this incredible connection forming between us. I trusted him enough not to hurt me, and he cared for me enough to give me what I craved.

Clinging onto him, my fingers glide up and over his shoulders, tangling in his hair as I pull him closer, hold him tighter. Between us his cock thickens, and he groans, jerking his hips against my pussy that I shamelessly rub against him. Heat gathers, building, growing, expanding as my body weeps for him, and my heart aches to be loved.

“Daisy,” he warns, his voice rough, like boulders falling over a cliff.

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” I beg, reaching between us, my fingers wrapping around his length, stroking him.

His mouth drops open, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as I fist him, needing him to want me as much as I want him.

“This is...” he gasps.

“Exactly what we both need,” I whisper, lifting up as I hover over his dick.

"You're hurting," he replies, his cheeks flushed and his pupils dilated as he gazes up at me. I can see him questioning the morality of our actions, but it's too late for that now. We've already crossed that line, and all I need at this moment is him.

“Not any more,” I say. “I need you to fuck me.Please, Dalton.”

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