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Gideon didn’t disappoint, his hand coming down firmly on the fleshiest part of her backside, making her gasp.
“That’s enough out of you, naughty girl. I don’t think it’s advisable for you to dig a deeper hole if you want to be able to sit down any time in the coming week. I suggest you shush and take your punishment before you earn any more strokes.”
“And I suggest you let me go. You can’t do this to me!”
She wiggled more on his lap and he held her tighter, bringing his hand down again and again across her buttocks and her upper thighs in harsh, stinging slaps.
“I can do whatever I want to you, Plum, and nothing you can do will stop me.”
The threat made her moan and try to rub her mound on his thigh but Gideon wasn’t having it. He held her fast and spanked her over and over and over, covering the expanse of skin he’d bared. He wasn’t exactly being gentle but this had the potential to go either way—a good girl, turn-you-on spanking, or one that truly felt like discipline and aimed to have her in tears. She wanted the latter.
Plum appreciated the warm-up and his caution since they hadn’t played together before, and when he said, “time,” softly she was impatient to resume but not mad. He was being careful and she appreciated it even as she wanted him to beat the hell out of her and make her scream and sob.
“Scale of one to ten, love, where are you?”
“Mmm, three.”
There was a beat of what she’d guess was surprise though she couldn’t see the priest’s face. Because yes, she could take a lot.
“Delightful.”
Then he was raining down slap after slap over her already heated skin—sometimes several spanks on the same spot which was a painful little game, and sometimes switching up the rhythm which made it harder for her to manage the pain. Wretched man.
Gideon must’ve hit her for a good twenty minutes and while she wasn’t in tears, she was working hard to control her breathing and her head was throbbing and stuffy from being turned ass-up over his lap for so long. She wouldn’t have safeworded but she wasn’t annoyed when he turned her over and held her against his chest, passing a hand over her back.
“How are you doing, Plum? You’re a tough little thing. One to ten?”
She smiled and tucked her head under his chin. “Good. Seven.”
“Would you like more or are you done?”
“More, please.”
Always more. Well, almost always. With Gideon? Yes, more. So much more.
“Do you like to cry, darling?”
“Yes,” she said, feeling floaty and spaced out even as her butt was on fire. “But it’s not easy.”
“Ah, a challenge. I see. Accepted. Cane? Strap? Belt? Pick your poison, love. I have most everything.”
“Cane, please, Daddy.”
It had been a while since her last good caning. Brits were known for their fondness for the instrument and tended to be quite handy with them. No way was she passing on that.
Gideon planted a kiss on the top of her head and held her tight. She could get used to this. The strength of his arms, the old-books-and-drugstore-soap scent mixed with a tinge of musk smell of him, the breadth and force of his hand.
“Very good. You’re going to lie down while I get you some water and fetch my canes.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she agreed as he set her down gently and pulled the coverlet from the foot of the bed over her.
She usually resisted being babied—she wasn’t alittlelittle after all—but somehow she didn’t mind it so much right now. Maybe it was knowing he wasn’t finished with her. He was going to stripe her ass and she couldn’t wait.
