Chapter Thirty-Two
Twyla had hoped that Mr. Fox would be understanding, that he wouldn’t be too angry that she’d left and kept secrets from him. Given that the last month had damn near killed her even though Marni and Dr. Eric were great and she loved working at Houston Tech, she had missed her daddy so much. She’d felt like she was missing half of herself.
And now her other half was kissing her, plundering her mouth as if re-memorizing the feel of her, how she tasted. He could kiss her all afternoon if he wanted to. Or whatever else he might happen to want to do with her.
Despite being crazy lonely and missing him like whoa, and getting aroused by the memories she played in her mind over and over and over, she hadn’t touched herself. She wasn’t technically Mr. Fox’s then, but she’d still felt as though she was even if they were apart and it seemed…disrespectful somehow. It was the same reason she’d tried to eat healthy food even though she only wanted ice cream, and why she’d tried her best to go to bed at a reasonable hour though her unhappiness and anxiety had caused some insomnia.
Marni had rules that she’d had to follow like a curfew and how many hours per week she was allowed to work which was a comfort, but it wasn’t the same as having her daddy to take care of her.
She pressed herself against him, tried to touch as much of him as possible because she’d missed every single inch of him and she wanted to make up for lost time. Mr. Fox would be cool with it if she just hung around his neck like a sloth for the next month, right?
Except the thing was, he probably would be, because he loved her and understood what she needed. He wouldn’t begrudge her some extra cuddle time. Especially because while the wheels had started turning in her legal cases, she’d still have to go to court and that would be super hard.
She wouldn’t think about that now. All she would think about was being back where she belonged.
Her daddy’s hands had wandered down to her ass where he was kneading at her and she wanted more than that. More, more, more.
Eventually he broke their kiss and they came up for air, panting.
“Unless you want to go to Marni’s and pick up your stuff now, I’m taking you inside and upstairs. I’m not angry at you, but you know you’ve earned a very severe punishment for this behavior, right?”
Twyla looked up at him through her lashes. Even though she was apprehensive because it’s not like she enjoyed punishments—and she wasn’t supposed to, that was the point—but shewasgrateful and even a tiny bit thrilled.
The world had tilted on its axis when she’d left him, but now it was being righted. She’d known when she left that if she went back she would have a sore bottom for days if not weeks, and she was okay with that. More than okay. She couldn’t wait.
“Please, Daddy, take me now. I can’t wait anymore.”
Almost before she’d finished her sentence, Mr. Fox had picked her up bride-style and carried her into the house and upstairs. She had missed everything about this tidy little house and the man who lived in it. She breathed in the smell of the house and of her daddy and it made her happy.
They didn’t stop in the bedroom, but went all the way through to the nursery. She was so happy to see her changing table and her crib and all of her toys she almost cried. But she was sure there would be crying soon, and not from happiness. Okay, maybe a little from happiness. Because even when he spanked her and gave her other punishments, Twyla was still so happy to be his.
Punishments and discipline made her feel secure and she desperately needed security right now. An orgasm or six wouldn’t hurt either, and she almost always got at least one after she’d been punished if she’d taken it like a good girl. And she would.
He took her straight to the rocking chair and turned her over his knee, flipped up her skirt and pulled down the underwear she had on.
“It’s been a while,” he said, stroking her bottom. “Do you remember your word?”
“It’ssparkle, Daddy.”
“What a good, smart girl you are,” he crooned and she flushed with pleasure.
Mr. Fox took her hands and held them at the small of her back before he started spanking her. He gave her a very thorough warm-up, letting his hand fall all over her backside before going over every inch of it again and again, every time harder.
The heated sensation was familiar and comforting. And even though she knew this wouldn’t be a good girl spanking she still loved it. Loved how his hand landed on her bottom time after time, loved how he told her what she was being punished for while he spanked her. Loved even more how he dipped a finger into her pussy to check if she was wet.
Of course she was.
“Oh my sweet girl, your cunt is just how I remember it. Tight, hot, and slick. But orgasms are for good girls, and for naughty girls who have atoned for their sins. That’s not you. Not yet.”
He continued spanking her until he was striking her so hard tears leaked from her eyes.
She said she was sorry over and over but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. She deserved more than this for leaving him and not telling him why. Making him worry, not trusting him. Yeah, she was going to be a very sore and very sorry little girl.
Before she could start outright bawling though, he sat her up and had her wrap her legs around his waist and carried her to the changing table, kneading his fingers into her sore bottom while he walked over. She squirmed and moaned but of course it didn’t have any effect. She didn’t want it to. She didn’t want mercy. She wanted him, all of him, and she wanted to pay the price for her transgressions. If he went too easy on her, she’d just continue to feel guilty and haunted and he knew it.
He set her down on her feet and then bent her over the table, cuffing her wrists and fastening them to the opposite end of the table. And then she heard the single best and worst sound in the whole world: Daddy’s belt whispering through the loops on his shorts. She whimpered in anticipation. Even though it hurt like hell, knowing she was going to get strapped with Daddy’s belt never failed to make her all hot and bothered.
“You’re going to take twenty with my belt and then six strokes with a cane.”