Page 20 of Plum's Priest Daddy

“Promise?” she asked with a sly smile over her shoulder.

Gideon picked up a cane from beside her, weighed it in his hand, put on a show of tapping it against his palm as if he weren’t deeply familiar with this particular cane. It was a favorite of his and he maintained it with love and dedication, much as he planned to maintain this woman in front of him—if she’d let him.

“I’ll do my best to leave you with some nice bruises, darling. No kicking this time, and if you want them even I’d suggest no squirming. Don’t be naughty.”

Plum sighed theatrically and wiggled her bottom in the most tempting way. He set a hand on her lower back to still her, and then tapped the cane across her buttocks, taking his measure. He’d start her off easy, yes, to work her back from the break and because he didn’t want to have six strokes and she be done for. But he couldn’t wait for the satisfying impact of the cane into her flesh followed by the vibration in his hand, and her noises. What would she sound like? Would he be able to make her cry? He wanted to. He would.

Taking his aim, he brought the cane down across her cheeks and she gasped. A couple of centimeters down, he tapped the rattan to program his muscles, and then thwacked her again, harder this time. Another gasp.

Gasps were lovely, yes, but he wanted a whimper, a mewl, a squeak. Something with tone. Something that said pain instead of surprise.

He worked his way down her backside, and got his wish not at her sit spots but on her thighs.

“Ah!”

The sound hit him square in the gut. Yes, that’s what he’d been after. What he wanted more of.

Gideon allowed himself to go a notch lower, eliciting another cry before he started again at the top, this time harder. Choked off squeaks, muffled whines as she buried her face into the duvet, and white knuckles curved around the cane he’d given her to hold. Yes, this was how he wanted his lovely little Plum. Panting and whimpers and plaintive cries, and still offering herself to him.

He took a moment to break the rhythm, to stroke her generous bottom and her lush thighs, all the way up to her creamy lower back. When he dragged his nails lightly over her abraded skin, she shivered and whined, and when he leaned in to blow a stream of air over her fiery skin, the little darling groaned.

And he couldsmellher. Smell her arousal. Not as sweet as the scent of the baked goods in her shop, and not bitter like the coffee she served, but musky and human and carnal. It made him want to eat her alive.

He tugged at her thong and she raised her hips so he could peel it off, and then he pinched at her welts before slicking a finger through her folds to find her clit. Rubbed the firm bundle of nerves and then pinched it.

“God!”

He smacked her for that and she sucked in a breath.

“That’s blasphemous, darling. You may call me ‘Father’ or ‘Daddy.’ But not God.”

“You’re still wearing your collar while you spank and finger and defile a woman you barely know and I’m the one who’s blasphemous? Fuck you, you licentious son of a bitch.”

He did love her filthy mouth. Loved spanking her for it, which he did a dozen times, hard.

“I told you before and I’ll tell you again. I can do whatever I like with you and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Now spread your legs and let Daddy see your pretty pussy and how soaking wet you are from all this debauchery.”

Plum huffed, but did as he asked and fuck, yes, she was pink and wet and swollen—delicious. He couldn’t help but spear two fingers inside her, loving the way she rocked her hips back to meet him.

“Oh you like that, hmm, naughty girl? Daddy fingerfucking your cunt while your ass is on fire from his cane strokes?”

“Mmm, yes, Daddy. Yes, I do.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and coming alongside her to make sure she was watching as he licked the taste of her from his fingers. “You won’t be permitted to come until you’ve atoned for your sins. Twelve more strokes and then if you’ve been a good girl, Daddy will kiss it and make it better.”

Plum looked at him, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed, and her mouth set in a grim line like she might murder him. Well, if she did she wouldn’t have the pleasure of his mouth and he suspected that was enough for her to at least delay committing homicide.

---