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I needed information from her though and if I put her over my knee right now, I was only going to end up fucking her into oblivion.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t make her nervous.
I strode over to her quickly and her gaze jumped to mine. She was trying to figure out if she’d pushed too far or if she actually wanted me to manhandle her after all. I cupped her bottom over the robe, and she gasped, her eyes and mouth opening into a perfect little circle. Her fear and arousal were written all over her face.
“You can cover up this beautiful body, little girl, but that doesn’t change the fact that I know what it looks like entirely bare for me,” I said, dropping my tone a bit, which made her shiver.
“I should have asked,” she stammered anxiously, trying to backpedal but it was already too late.
“You should have asked permission to wear my robe, little girl. I’ll let you wear it this one time because I like to spoil you, but the next time you cover your beautiful body without my permission, you are going to find out what a spanking with my wooden hairbrush feels like,” I threatened.
She squeaked and I grinned, knowing full well she’d just used that very thing to brush her hair. She knew it was heavy and made of real wood.
I was a man who enjoyed nice things.
It would sting very much on her bare ass.
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled.
I slipped my hand beneath her robe, not stopping until I cupped between her legs. She was absolutely soaked. She sucked in her bottom lip and closed her eyes as I caressed her clit.
“What’s this?” I asked and she shivered hard.
“I… I…” she stammered.
“You’re soaking wet, naughty girl,” I chided her gently.
“Please,” she begged, grinding against me as I circled her clit.
“No, little girl. You’re not allowed to come for me until tonight as punishment,” I scolded her as I pulled my fingers from her needy little pussy. She whined pitifully, but I had expected that.
“Yes, sir.” Her lower lip protruded a little bit in an obvious pout.
“Come now. Let’s eat breakfast and the two of us can talk and get to know each other a bit more,” I suggested.
She nodded, still moping from not getting what she wanted.
Denial could be just as terrible of a punishment as a spanking.
I took her hand and led her out of my bedroom into the open kitchen and living room space. She gasped when she saw the spread of food. There were cheese omelets, one made with spinach and tomatoes, yet another with peppers and onions. Stacks of pancakes topped with every kind of fruit were scattered on the table, along with Belgian waffles. There were plates of meats and cheeses, as well as baskets of pastries.
Cost didn’t matter to me. I just wanted to see her happy.
“Wow,” she gasped.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I ordered a little of everything,” I replied, squeezing her hand in mine.
“A little?” she choked, clearly amused.
“Make yourself a plate. I’ll be back in just a minute,” I said, lifting her hand and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. She smiled and turned back to the food, just in time for her stomach to growl angrily again. Her hands pressed against her belly as she turned away.
I returned to the bedroom and brushed my teeth. I ran my brush through my hair, but I didn’t put it back down. Instead, I returned to the dining room with it still in my hand. I especially enjoyed the way her eyes opened wide with alarm at the sight of it. I sat down and laid it beside me on the table. She didn’t take her eyes off of it for a long moment. She stilled, her little mouth opening and closing several times in disbelief.
She’d filled her plate with a little of everything. I made a note that the pancakes and waffles were mainly topped with berries and small amounts of whipped cream. She’d chosen an omelet made with spinach, tomatoes, onions, and feta cheese, done over easy with a side of bacon.
Interestingly, she’d taken her coffee black. I wondered if she’d put sugar in it. In silence, I prepared my own cup of coffee, splashing it with a heavy dose of creamer and two cubes of sugar.
She watched me closely, not daring to say anything yet.
