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His shout had her jumping again and then hurrying past him and up the stairs. Her plan to warm up before the fire was thwarted when her arm was caught before she took three steps. In fact, she was completely lifted off the floor. The moment she found herself tucked beneath his arm, squealing when he propped his foot up on the ottoman causing her to dangle over his knee, she knew she was in trouble. The none too gentle yanking down of her leggings, tights, and panties confirmed it.
“No, Daddy! I told you I was going to take pictures!”
A flurry of smacks had her gasping, her feet kicking. “You do not tell Daddy no… ever! And, young lady, you do not go anywhere without asking me!”
“I did ask if I can take pictures!”
When would she learn that backtalk was not a smart idea? Evidently not soon enough because the swats came faster and harder. She shrieked when he delivered a few to the very sensitive crease where her legs met her bottom.
“I’m sorry! Daddy, please! I didn’t mean to be naughty! Ow! Ow!” Her hands gripped his leg, her apology made to the floor.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was when I came downstairs and you were gone? When you weren’t on the porch or even in the yard?” His questions were accompanied by additional swats to her bottom, which was already burning. Suddenly, she understood she’d really scared him.
“I wasn’t running, Daddy. I promise… I won’t ever run away again. I’m so sorry.”
Though the spanking hurt, that wasn’t what had her bursting into tears. It was the fact that she’d caused the man who had taken her back without question unnecessary worry. She didn’t kick or squirm as he finished her spanking, and the moment he set her onto her feet, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I-I… I’m sorr… sorry, Dad… Daddy.” After stuttering her apology, she turned and ran as fast as she could, throwing herself into the corner. The clothes hindered her ability to spread her legs, but she put her nose to the wall and stuck her bottom out as best she could.
“Ple… please for… forgive me,” she sobbed to the wall, her heart aching far more than her bottom. “I-I didn’t mean to… to scare you.”
“Oh, baby, shhh,” he said, pulling her away from the corner and picking her up. “Breathe, Elena, you’re choking, honey. Just breathe.” He stroked down her back, his touch and his tone gradually calming her. He sat on one of the chairs before the fire and took her hands, rubbing them between his own. “You’re freezing.”
“Not all… all of me,” she said, squirming a bit as if he didn’t know exactly what part of her was feeling a bit too warm.
“I suppose not, but, Elena, you cannot go outside without the proper clothes. You are way too thin and too worn down to resist the cold. God, you’re soaked up to your thighs.”
“The snow was deeper than I thought and I-I really was only going to take a quick photo, but Mr. Snowy needed a bit of help and then I saw the pretty icicles. There were animal tracks in the snow and I followed them. I didn’t mean to go into the woods…” The tightening of his lips had her realize what she’d just said. “I-I didn’t go far and it wasn’t on purpose… I guess I just didn’t stop to think.”
He was silent for a moment and then sighed. “Elena, I was serious about the woods. They are no place for you to go alone. I suggest you think about the fact that if you forget again, that little burn you’re feeling right now will become an inferno from the deepest circle of Dante’s hell. Is that absolutely clear?”
She didn’t like the visual his words had conjured. Her bottom clenching, it was a very contrite little girl who nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
He gave her a hug and then a kiss after cupping her chin with his fingers. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“All right. Let’s get you dry.” Since he’d left her previous day’s clothing to dry before the fire, he simply snagged them and stripped her, quickly exchanging her attire. Her sneakers were soaked, so he sat her in the chair and told her not to move a single inch. Elena obeyed, feeling awful that she’d caused them to start their day with another spanking.
Liam returned and sat on the hearth, so he could put a new pair of thick socks and a dry pair of sneakers on her feet.
“I’m really sorry, Daddy.”
“Elena, I know you are, and baby girl, once you’ve been punished and made your apology, you are forgiven. There is no need to keep saying you’re sorry.” Leaning forward, he hugged her. “You need to learn to forgive yourself, sweetheart.”
Elena nodded but knew it would take her a while to learn to do so. She’d always felt inadequate—not with Liam, he’d never once made her feel anything but loved. But growing up, her family had been so demanding, had expected only the very best, felt that no matter what it took, who you walked over or backstabbed, if you weren’t on top, you were worthless. Forcing herself to push her past away, she nodded and kissed her daddy’s cheek. “I’m trying.”
“Good girl. Now, you need to mop up the snow you tracked in while I get breakfast going.”
“Okay, Daddy,” she said, accepting the dish towel he handed her and using it to mop up puddles that reached from the front door to the ottoman. As she soaked up that puddle, she wondered how much was snow and how much was tears. Once she was done, she hung the towel on a free hook near the fire before returning to climb up onto her stool again.
“Oh!” she said, setting her cup down a bit hard.
“Sorry, honey. I made you a new cup. It’s really hot.” He then grinned. “Hold on a minute.”
She watched as he went out the front door and smiled when he returned carrying a long icicle.
“Your very own stir stick,” he said, handing it to her. “Don’t worry, I checked and it’s clean.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, immediately sucking on the tip to cool the slight burning of her tongue from the hot tea.
