Page 74 of Becoming His Perfect Daddy
He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, fully clothed, as I stood in front of him in my underwear. His scrutinizing stare had me fidgeting until I finally clasped my hands in front of my crotch.
Sam raised his eyebrows at that but stayed infuriatingly silent.
Finally, I couldn’t take any more of the quiet. My hands flew to my sides, up in the air. “Okay, so I’m up. Are we going to do something already?”
He smirked, scrubbing his jaw as a truncated laugh bubbled out of him. “You struggle with patience, don’t you, boy?”
I huffed loudly, crossing my arms. I was starting to get cold despite the heat in his eyes. “Of course I’m impatient! It was just getting good, and then you stopped.”
Sam kept staring, shaking his head. “Trust me, this will be even better.”
I glared at him. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
The smirk on his face vanished at that, but his eyes turned to molten fire. He liked when I pushed back. Noted. “You may not want to test me, boy. Sounds like you’re angling for a punishment.”
I cocked my hip, delighting in the way his eyes fell to my waist. I glanced away as casually as I could manage. “I don’t think you could.”
He growled, which had me whipping my eyes back to his. “Boy, I absolutely amgoingto punish you for that.”
The way he bit his lip had me fighting back a moan. I wanted to lick the marks his teeth had left.
He kept going. “So the reason I had you stand up—besides the obvious, which is so I could get a good look at your unbelievably sexy body; I mean, goddamn, man—was that it wasn’t just the spanking itself that turned you on.”
My cheeks heated as I stared at him. “No?” I choked out.
He shook his head, his smirk returning. “Not by itself. You told me before that humiliation turned you on. And you got that tonight in spades.”
I schooled my features. “What makes you say that?”
“You deny it?”
I hesitated then slowly shook my head.
“What did you find so humiliating about it?”
I took a shaky breath before letting it all rush out. “That Zander punished Joey for not following instructions. That he had to strip in front of all of us when his Master stayed fully clothed. That . . .” I trailed off.
“Finish.”
His one-word command made me squeeze my legs together to give my dick some relief. It didn’t work. “That he had to confess what he’d done in front of the whole room. That he had to tell everyone what his punishments were and why, in great detail. The humiliation of being spread on that spanking bench, his bare ass out for everyone to watch while Zander gave him his punishment. Fucking hell—it was so hot.”
By the end of my impromptu speech, Sam was nodding. “Extremely.” He extended his hands toward me, and I took a step forward so he could rest them on my hips. My skin burned where he touched me. “You want to know my favorite parts?”
I swallowed hard, nodding. My voice had taken a vacation somewhere.
“The crack of his hand and the paddle against his bare ass. The way it shook and bloomed red with every swat. The cries he pulled from his sub while he was still begging for more. How well he hurt for his Master.”
I whimpered—I couldn’t help it. I wanted all of that.
“Would you like to hurt for me, Cameron? Would you like me to darken that ass until you can’t sit for a week, either? Would you like me to pull those pants down around your thighs and put you over my knee like the naughty boy I know you are? Would you like to be punished?”
I moaned and started begging. “Please, Daddy, I want that so badly.”
He quirked his eyebrows, and I almost came from that alone. That just kept happening, dammit. “Good.” With a show ofstrength that set my whole body on fire, he pulled me down over his lap in a move so fluid I missed how I got from standing to laid out over his strong thighs, head down, close to the ground, my ass in perfect striking range. “Because I want that, too.”
His hand started rubbing my ass again, but soon he was hooking his fingers under the waistband of my boxer briefs and inching them down. I shouldn’t have shown him how impatient I was when it came to sex. I had a feeling I’d be begging for it before long.
As soon as he had the band down to mid-thigh—he’d been so careful and respectful removing my packer from the front of my boxers and setting it on the nightstand that I’d almost cried—he stopped. I felt the air rush from his lungs and skate across my bare skin.
