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“That’s right.”

She’d have to tell him that would cost him extra, but decided to wait until the deed was done. Clients didn’t care to have their fantasies broken with reality. She’d learned that in training.

“Go lie down on the bed.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She lay among the pillows and grinning animals.

“I’ve heard you’ve been touching yourself.”

“No, Daddy.”

“It isn’t good to tell lies to your Daddy. I have to punish you, but then I’ll kiss it and make it better.” When she smiled, he walked to the bed. “Lift your skirt, little girl, and show me how you touched yourself.”

Lola didn’t care for this part. She liked being touched, but the feel of her own hands brought her little excitement. Still, she lifted her skirt, stroked herself, keeping her movements shy and hesitant as she expected he wanted.

It excited him, the glide of her small fingers. After all, that was what a woman was made for. To use herself, to use the men who wanted her.

“How does it feel?”

“Soft,” she murmured. “You touch, Daddy. Feel how soft.”

He laid a hand over hers, felt himself harden satisfactorily as he slipped a finger inside her. It would be quick, for both of them.

“Unbutton your dress,” he ordered, and continued to manipulate her as she opened it from its prim collar down. “Turn over.”

When she did, he brought his hand down on her pert bottom in smart slaps that reddened the creamy flesh while she whimpered in programmed response.

It didn’t matter if he hurt her or not. She’d sold herself to him.

“That’s a good girl.” He was fully erect now, beginning to throb. Still, his movements were careful and precise as he undressed. Naked, he straddled her, slipped his hands beneath her so that he could squeeze her breasts. So young, he thought, and let himself shudder from the pleasure of flesh that had yet to need refining.

“Daddy’s going to show you how he rewards good girls.”

He wanted her to take him into her mouth, but couldn’t risk it. The birth control her file listed she used would eradicate his sperm vaginally, but not orally.

Instead, he vaulted up her hips, taking the time to stroke his hands over that firm, young flesh as he drove himself into her.

He was rougher than either of them expected. After that first violent thrust, he held himself back. He had no wish to hurt her to the point where she would cry out. Though in a place such as this, he doubted anyone would notice or care.

Still, she was rather charmingly unskilled and naive. He settled on a slower, more gentle rhythm, which he discovered drew out his own pleasure.

She moved well, meeting him, matching him. Unless he was very mistaken, not all her groans and cries were simulated. He felt her tense, shudder, and he smiled, pleased that he’d been able to bring a whore to a genuine climax.

He closed his eyes and let himself come.

She sighed and cuddled into one of the pillows. It had been good, much, much better than she’d expected. And she hoped she’d found another regular.

“Was I a good girl, Daddy?”

“A very, very good girl. But we’re not done. Roll over.”

As she shifted, he rose and moved out of camera range. “Are we going to watch the video, Daddy?”

He only shook his head.

Remembering her role, she pouted. “I like videos. We can watch, and then you can show me how to be a good girl again.” She smiled at him, hoping for a bonus. “I could touch you this time. I’d like to touch you.”

He smiled and took the SIG 210 with silencer out of his coat pocket. He watched her blink in curiosity as he aimed the gun.


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery