Page 49 of Daddy Next Door

"A consequence?" My voice emerged higher, breathier.

Ethan's eyes darkened at my response, noting the flush spreading across my cheeks, the change in my breathing. "Yes, Lily. Actions—or in this case, inactions—have consequences." His free hand moved to my cheek, stroking gently. "That's how we learn. How we grow together."

My body responded to his words, to his touch, with a surge of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with desire. With submission. With the profound relief of having someone care enough to hold me accountable.

"Do you understand why?" he asked, his eyes never leaving mine.

I nodded, then remembered his preference for verbal responses. "Yes," I whispered. "Because you care."

"Exactly." His approval warmed me further. "Because I care about you—all of you. The professional designer and the little girl. The independent woman and the submissive partner." His thumb brushed across my lower lip, sending a shiver down my spine. "Every beautiful, complex part of you."

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry despite the tea. "When—" I cleared my throat and tried again. "When will you . . ." I couldn't finish the question.

"After dinner," Ethan said, understanding my unspoken query. “Soon.”

Chapter 8

Istoodintheadultnursery, my heart beating against my ribs like a trapped bird. The pastel walls and plush toys that usually made me feel safe now seemed to watch with curious eyes as Ethan approached with something black and gleaming in his hands. The leather outfit dangled from his fingers like a promise—or a threat—of something entirely new between us.

"Do you know what this is, little one?" Ethan's voice was deeper than usual, that special timbre he reserved for moments when he wanted me to feel both cherished and commanded.

I shook my head, though I could plainly see what he held—a leather thong with the middle missing and what looked like an open bra that would frame rather than cover.

"This is what you're going to wear for your punishment." He spread the items on the edge of the changing table. "For not coming to me when you were upset about the Vitality feedback."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," I whispered, the title still new enough on my tongue to send a flush across my cheeks.

"I know you are." His fingers traced the edge of the leather bra. "And you're going to be even sorrier. But you're also going to feel so good."

The contradiction made me squeeze my thighs together. My pulse quickened when he lifted the strange piece of underwear.

"Crotchless," he explained unnecessarily. "I want access to my little girl's pussy while I'm punishing her."

The crude language in the nursery setting created a delicious discord that made me press my hand against my stomach. Ethan noticed—he always noticed everything.

"Excited already? Take off your clothes."

I hesitated, not from reluctance but from the sudden awareness of the weight of his gaze.

"Now, Lily," he added, and the firmness in his voice decided for me.

I pulled my t-shirt over my head, revealing my simple camilsole. Ethan watched without comment as I shrugged it off, my nipples hardening in the cool air. My pants followed, then my sensible cotton panties. I stood naked before him, fighting the urge to cover myself.

"Beautiful," he said, and the simple word rushed through me like warm honey. "Come here."

I approached on unsteady legs. Ethan held the leather bra open for me. His fingers brushed against my back as he secured it, the touch deliberate and electric. The leather felt cool and foreign against my skin, but the openings—perfect circles that left my breasts exposed—made me feel more naked than if I'd worn nothing.

"Turn around," Ethan commanded.

I did, and his sharp intake of breath was as validating as any flowery compliment.

"Your breasts look perfect framed like this." His thumb brushed across my left nipple, and I bit my lip to keep from whimpering. "The leather makes your skin look even softer."

He knelt down, holding the thong open for me to step into. I placed my hands on his shoulders for balance, watching as he slid the leather up my thighs. The absence of material between my legs felt wicked and deliberate, the leather straps framing my most private area like a picture.

"You're already wet," he observed, his finger tracing the outer lips of my pussy with a feather-light touch that made me shiver. "Always so responsive for me."

Ethan stood, holding something I hadn't noticed before—a riding crop with a small leather flap at the end. My eyes widened.

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