“Yeah, like, spread your legs or smack on the bottom or . . . ice cream. You know, just a suggestion.”
“That’s not happening. You get two choices, spread your legs or a smack on the butt. And right now, you’re heading towards both.”
Yikes.
She quickly spread her legs, and to her embarrassment, he gathered up the skirt of her dress, pulling it out of the way before he applied the cool, damp cloth to her sensitive pussy.
That actually felt incredibly good. Not that she was going to tell him. He was far too bossy as it was. He always thought he was right.
“Legs together. Don’t lose that cloth,” he warned before undoing the bottle of water. He then held it up to her lips. “Drink.”
She gulped down some water, feeling it help the flush of heat. When he drew the bottle back, she was feeling better.
“Good?”
“Yes, Daddy. Thank you.”
“Good girl,” he told her. “You really are a very good girl. Just because you were a little naughty doesn’t change that.”
How did he know what she needed to hear? For someone who could be so, well, dense sometimes, he could also be incredibly intuitive at other times.
“Feel better now?”
“Well, I’d feel better if my meanie Daddy let me come,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?”
21
“What?” she said innocently.
“Do you want to repeat what you just said?” he asked in a dark voice.
“Nope. I don’t believe I do.”
“That’s what I thought.”
And her heart started beating again.
“Legs apart.”
She opened her legs with a squirm of embarrassment. Then he lifted her down and turned her towards the mirror. Suddenly, her skirt went up and two smacks landed on her ass. They were over with quick. They just left a brush of heat on her skin and a delightful throb in her pussy.
But she was trying to calm herself down, not get all heated up again. And he knew that, darn it!
“Daddy Z! That wasn’t nice!” She stomped her foot. Okay, she should probably stop doing that.
“Are you headed towards a tantrum, little girl?”
“Nope. Nuh-uh, not me.” Was she? She didn’t think so. Her naughty foot just had a mind of its own.
“That’s good. Because if you were, then Daddy might think you needed a nap. And that would mean no morePinky and the Brain.”
She gasped. That would be a crime.
He stared into the mirror at her, then his gaze narrowed and a flash of something filled his face. She couldn’t help but flinch back. What was wrong? Had she pushed things too far? Was she being too much work? Was he mad at her?
“Fuck. I marked your neck.” He closed his eyes for a long moment, breathing in deep.