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He held me like he didn’t want to let me go, like he did really care about me.
“I never want to see you hurt, my little girl. It hurt my feelings that you kept this from me. I want to protect you and I need you to believe me,” he murmured.
“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” I wailed through my tears. I tried to meet his eyes, but my vision was blurred. I sniffled as the tears dripped from my chin onto his fancy suit and seeing that made me cry that much harder. He said nothing about it though. The same hand that had held me down for the belting curled around the back of my head and pressed it against his chest.
“That’s my good girl. You took your punishment so very well and I’m so very proud of you,” he praised.
My heart exploded with love for this man. My mind short-circuited at that realization.
I loved this man, and not just a little bit either. I really loved him. No one had ever shown me this kind of adoration and care. I wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, but I knew how I felt about him.
I squeezed my arms a bit tighter and so did he. Those three words were on the tip of my tongue. I opened and closed my mouth, wanting to say them but they stayed inside. My heart was a bit broken though and I needed him to say them first.
I hoped that he would.
Kieran held me for such a long time. My bottom ached with residual sting from the belt, but that wasn’t really why I was crying so hard. I was sobbing because of the emotional toll my ex had become in my life and that there was another much sweeter man who wanted to protect me from all of it.
Daddy’s belt had been firm, but it had allowed me to let go of my past and look ahead to what the future might hold.
Eventually my tears dried up and my breathing returned to normal. I’d buried my face against him, firmly pressing my cheek to his chest and listening to the steady drumming of his heart. I felt so much lighter, like he’d taken the weight of the world off my shoulders and set me free once and for all. I took in a shaky breath, and he pulled back just enough to kiss my forehead. My nerves buzzed with electricity, which quickly transformed into molten fire.
My clit pulsed with need.
I squirmed in his lap. I swallowed hard, realizing that I was positively soaking wet. A single drop of arousal rolled down my right inner thigh and I choked back a gasp of surprise. My backside burned with marks from his belt and my pussy was dripping with my wetness.
I didn’t understand why. The belting had been painful enough to make me cry, but I didn’t think that was why. Maybe it was a little bit. I blushed, but also it might just be that he cared enough to punish me for putting myself at risk.
I didn’t know, but I desperately wanted to reach between my thighs so I could come. My skin buzzed with passionate need, and I fidgeted a bit more. His hand slipped between my legs, and I cried out. He was going to find the evidence of my arousal. He was going to know that being punished like that made me impossibly wet.
His fingers slipped down the sensitive flesh of my thighs and my muscles tensed, trying to impede his path while also kind of wanting him to continue at the same time.
I cried out in shame as soon as his fingertips slid across my inner leg, finding what I had wanted to hide so desperately.
He growled with approval, and the sound rumbled deep into the marrow of my bones. My hips lifted, my body giving away just how much I needed him to touch me. I moaned when his fingers grazed across my sensitive folds until they brushed against my clit. I gasped, the sound strangled and shameful.
He started to tease me, lightly pressing two fingers directly on top of my needy bud. My hips bucked just a little. I couldn’t help it. My own hands dug into his back, trying to hold on for what was to come.
Pleasure cascaded through me. Jolts of it radiated out from my clit, each one carrying with it as much fiery intensity as each lash of the belt. I’d seen him with that terrible strap hanging at his side, ready to punish me because I’d been a bad girl and needed him to do exactly that and he did.
He’d never looked sexier to me than in that moment.
His fingers spiraled over my clit, teasing and taunting me with pleasure that was just out of reach. I whimpered and cried out, trying to grind myself against those promising fingertips only for him to pull back every time. He wasn’t giving me what I wanted, at least not yet.
I wanted to come. I needed it.
He teased me until I was just on the edge of orgasm. I only needed one more touch, one more second of pressure and I would break apart, but he stopped just before I came.
“Daddy, please,” I begged for the first time.
He brought me right to the cliff’s edge again and pulled back. He did that over and over again, punishing me with the terrible ache of denial until I was writhing in his lap, utterly desperate to come for him.
“Please, Daddy. Please let me come,” I wailed.
“I want you to make me a promise,” he began.
“Pleeeease…!” I cried out, my hips bucking as he pulled away right at the second when I was about to come. My core ached, pulsing with the vicious agony of his endless denial of my pleasure.
“You’re going to make me a promise, my sweet little girl.”
