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Slim, elegant fingers gripped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “I am willing to overlook that lie, as you are entitled to feel a little off kilter at the moment. But I would advise you to not lie to me when I ask my next question. Is there something about last night you haven’t told me?”
To her surprise, she wanted to tell him. The truth burned on her tongue, but she couldn’t make herself form the words. “No.”
Eyes so dark brown they were nearly black searched hers. “You’re keeping something from me, Amara,” he murmured, running the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “I will discover the truth. The sooner you tell me, the easier this will be for you.”
“I already told you, Emilio. I was just trying to have some fun.”
Almost instantly, she found herself bent over the desk, with his heavy hand slamming into her backside. Each swat caused her bottom to clench, reminding her of the presence of the plug with a sharp stab of pain. “What do you call me, Amara?”
“Daddy—I meant Daddy!”
“Good girl.” And just as quickly, her punishment ended and he helped her straighten. When his arms came around her, she stiffened, unsure of what might come next.
“Relax,piccolina.” He was clearly amused by her reaction. “I’m trying to comfort you.”
“Oh. Um, okay.” Closing her eyes, she leaned into him. Bit by bit, she relaxed in his embrace. It was odd, accepting comfort from the man who’d humiliated and punished her, but a part of her craved his touch. Maybe there really was something wrong with her.
“Much better,” he said, patting her tulle-covered bottom affectionately. “Have a seat on the floor over there while Daddy makes his calls.”
A stack of coloring books and boxes of assorted crayons, colored pencils, and markers had been laid out beside the desk. It was silly and ridiculous, but what else was she going to do? She couldn’t very well make a break for it, not with him sitting right there and a bevy of guards most likely wandering the halls. Resigned to her fate, at least for the time being, she stretched out on the floor beside the desk and flipped through the coloring books.
She was amused to find several more ‘adult’ coloring books mixed in with the more traditional material, and she ended up selecting one with dozens of decorative cocks. The entire process was far more relaxing than she’d anticipated. By the time Emilio called her name, she’d colored three full pages and had started on a fourth.
“Can Daddy see your pictures,piccolina?” he asked, amusement shining in his eyes.
Inwardly giggling over the idea of handing him a stack of colorful cocks, she happily handed the book over to him. When he saw what she’d chosen, he let out a loud whoop of laughter.
“These are perfect, Amara. I’ll have to find somewhere to hang them in your—upstairs,” he said, smoothly correcting himself.
Had he been about to call the frilly pink room upstairs her room? Despite her absolute hatred of everything pink, the idea didn’t bother her as much as it should have. Jesus, one night with the man, and she was already developing a severe case of Stockholm syndrome.
Deciding that was a problem for future Amara, she pushed up onto her knees. “Is it lunchtime? I’m starving.”
“Just about. Anita will be bringing our meal in shortly. We should go wash our hands, first.”
The reminder that his staff could and would see her dressed as she was, playing at being a little girl, quickly sobered her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her playful ‘Daddy’ disappeared in a finger snap. In his place sat the man from the night before and that morning, the one who was prepared to punish even the slightest defiance. “What did I tell you last night, Amara? About the choices little girls have in this house?”
The only choice little girls have in this house is to do as they are told before or after their naughty bottoms get turned nice and red.His warning was imprinted in her mind, but she stood her ground. “I don’t want people to see me. It’s embarrassing.”
“It will be even more embarrassing for them to hear you screaming and crying while I paddle your bottom before you march those rosy red cheeks down the hall for everyone to see, wouldn’t you agree?”
Again, not much in the way of options. But if she had to choose between two evils, there was a clear winner. “Fine.”
“Try that again, young lady.”
The fury she’d managed to bank the night before roared back to life, but she ruthlessly squashed it. As much as she wanted to let it loose, to scorch him with it, the only thing getting scorched would be her own ass if she did. “I’ll go wash my hands, Daddy.”
“There’s my good girl.” Rising to his feet, he held out a hand to help her up.
When he guided her to a door off to the side of his office and swung it open, revealing a small bathroom, she wasn’t nearly as successful in fighting back the flash of anger. “You couldn’t have just told me you had a fucking bathroom right here?”
“If you had asked where the washroom was, instead of assuming, I would have happily told you. And consider this your one and only warning about swearing at me, Amara. I handle disrespectful little girls the same way I handle liars. Understood?”
Unwilling to experience ‘eating a bar of soap’ as he’d so eloquently put it, she swallowed her blistering retort and opted for a meek nod. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” He frowned when a musical, tinkling sound reached them. “That’s the doorbell. Stay here while I see who it is.” His eyes were serious when they met hers. “Benny will be right outside the door. If he tells you to run, or to hide, you listen. No questions, no arguments.”
