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Another strained nod. He held on, slamming into her sore, aching pussy until he exploded within her. When he was done, he collapsed on the bed beside her, his breathing heavy and erratic.
“Come here, little one.”
She gratefully crawled into his embrace, snuggling against him while their hearts pounded so loudly she could hear each beat and their breathing slowed to normal.
“Such a good girl,” he crooned when they finally settled. “Would you like the gag off now?”
She nodded and bent her head so he could access the buckle at the back of her head. He released the restraint and gently pulled the steel from her mouth. Her jaw ached, and her throat was raw. Her bottom was sore, as was her still throbbing pussy.
But she felt the satisfaction of being well used and loved in every cell of her being. Eyes growing heavy, she snuggled into his chest. “Thank you, Daddy. I loved my celebration.”
His chest rumbled with laughter beneath her cheek. “I’m glad, little one. Sleep now. I love you.”
“Love you too.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Seven
She woke the next morningpositively ravenous. Other than James waking her briefly to remove her plug, she’d slept straight through the night. Sitting up in bed, she took stock of the twinges and aches making themselves known in her body. Her arms were a little sore from holding various positions for so long without moving. And her ass still burned, inside and out. Remembering the caning from the night before, she jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. She twisted her body to see her bottom in the mirror and grinned at the lines she could still see across her cheeks.
Humming happily to herself, she washed her face and threw on one of James’s old T-shirts and a pair of yoga pants. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, the scent of bacon frying made her mouth water. She all but skipped to the kitchen, where James stood before the stove, clad in a pair of faded blue jeans and an old Notre Dame sweatshirt. Olivia walked up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist, her face pressed against his strong back. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“I didn’t even check my phone. What time is it?”
“Almost ten.” The amusement was clear in his voice.
“Holy crap, really?” She pulled her arms from around his waist to plant her fists on her hips. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so late!”
“You’ve earned the right to sleep in on a Saturday.”
“But you didn’t sleep in,” she pointed out sulkily.
“Olivia Jane, are you arguing with me about letting you sleep?”
She grinned at the exasperation in his tone. “Maybe a little.”
