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FAITH
“Ididn’t need any other man touching me. Not after how you satisfied me that night. No other guy comes close to the way you make me feel. I want you to be the boss of me.” Riley’s hand curled around the base of my neck, rigid, restraining me.
I threw gasoline on his fire and shocked myself by saying those words. Mostly because I actually meant them.
He teased me with his touch, sliding his fingers expertly around my clit, gripping it lightly through the flimsy fabric of my undies and giving it a tug, squeezing enough to make a sweet ache start up in my belly. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl. You know what you would have gotten if you allowed another man anywhere near my prize, don’t you?”
He stroked the very reward he referred to, and my voice broke. “You would have been angry?”
His fierce tone filled my room. “And why is that, Faith?”
I wriggled on his thighs, wanting to torment him as much as he was teasing me, and bumped my hip into his rigid shaft.
Hoping he’d take the freaking hint, I widened my thighs and breathed, “Because I was a bad girl?” My words tumbled out. “Letting someone else touch what’s yours. Letting him do all the naughty things...spanking my bottom while I sucked his cock.”
With no advance notice, he snatched up the spill of my hair and tugged upward, arching my neck so my eyes fixated on the ceiling. His erection grew harder and the heat between my legs could melt a glacier when he spoke, breath ragged, “And what happens to bad girls?”
The speech came naturally, as if I’d been playing this role my entire life. “They get punished, Daddy. So they remember their rules.”
Nothing ever felt so true as this, except for the way I knew I’d keep my baby the second I found out I was pregnant.
No matter what.
Even if alone.
Work-life balance?
I’d make it work as a working mom.
Sleep deprivation?
Week-long stretches with no rest?
Breadwinner role? Sure, why not.
Luckily, my parents would help babysit. Clover and Luna would keep me sane through potty training, tantrums, and the first days of school.
Riley’s statement yanked my head out of the clouds. It held a warning that should have scared me. “You remember that.”
His bulging biceps were sculpted by carrying heavy fire hoses, rope, and rigging gear, and they were about to become the driving force behind his playing patty cake with my ass.
Anticipating the spanking I desired, I thrust my bottom up.
“This is for your own benefit. A reminder of who you belong to—should you ever forget,” he snarled.
Without warning, his blow landed heavily on my bottom and I yelped in surprise, “Son of a bitch!”
He expressed every word in tempo to his alternating swats to my butt cheeks, “When you are out in the world, being little Ms. Bad Ass, you might get away with swearing. But not with Daddy. Clear, pretty girl?”
I swallowed hard, looked over my shoulder at him, and boldly met his gaze. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I’m not a child. You’re not my real Daddy. We’re just fooling around.”
He began swatting me again, peppering my butt harder, coming to a halt only once to inquire, “Safe word?”
I grit my teeth and said, “As if I’d give you the satisfaction.”
He pinned my wrists to my lower back, making it impossible to escape. But when he spanked me forcefully and fast, swinging upwards to land on the tender underside of my butt cheek, I started kicking to get away from the pain.
Riley stopped, asking, “Had enough?”
