by Renee Rose
She went white hot, feeling like slapping him again. Or storming out. She turned away to leave the room.
He caught her around the waist and pulled her back up against his torso. “Don’t walk away when I’m speaking to you,” he said, but the firmness had gone out of his voice. It came like a rich rumble in her ear.
She went still and waited. What would he do next? Spank her again? Heat and excitement began to thrum, seeping through the anger and defensiveness.
“Turn around and look at me.”
She waited a full two seconds before she turned, folding her arms across her chest.
He reached for her arms, prying them out of their defensive position and pinning her wrists behind her back with one strong hand, as his other came to cup her chin. “Did you hear what I just said?”
She thrust her jaw forward. “I heard you.”
“So what is your decision? Are you calling Bev back to tell her no?”
She blew out her breath. “Well, that doesn’t really make sense. I mean, you can drive me to the shoot.”
“It doesn’t matter. The car is yours and you resent your sister for using it. Right?”
She sounded rather petty when he put it that way. “Well, sort of, yeah. Because she doesn’t ask, she just assumes.”
“Okay, so set some healthy limits.”
Her shoulders sagged. She couldn’t. Her sister and mom were stranded and she didn’t need the car. She spread her hands. “Well, they’re totally stranded without a car.”
Joel didn’t say a word.
“So you think I should just tell them to fuck off?”
He swatted her backside with a stinging blow. “Language, young lady. And no, I definitely don’t think you should tell them to fuck off.”
“So what do you think I should do?”
He shrugged. “It’s not my decision to make, it’s yours. I’m just demanding you make it with integrity.”
She felt like stomping on his toe. “What the hell does that mean?”
Another spank. “You make the choice that’s right for you, and then be happy with it. I’m not going to let you get pushed into something that upsets you.”
Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them back. Jesus Christ. When had anyone ever cared about her feelings on anything before?
He eased his grip on her wrists and rubbed her back. “Do you understand, baby girl? No one’s going to walk on you when I’m around. So what’s your decision? Do you want her to borrow your car or not?”
She did understand what he was saying, but she still couldn’t find her way out of her tangled desires. Yes, she wanted to tell Bev no. But it didn’t make sense when she had no good reason to do so. And then it clicked into place. She was choosing, of her own free will, to let her sister borrow the car. So she had no right to begrudge Bev for it.
She drew in a deep breath. “I’m going to let her borrow it.”
“And you’re happy with that choice? You’re not going to be grouching about it later?”
Her mouth firmed and her eyes narrowed.
“Okay, I’m just making sure.” He drew her into his arms, squeezing her butt with his big hands. “I’m not judging you, angel. But it’s my job to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”
“Who protects me from you?” she asked, just to give him a hard time. “Shouldn’t I have a safe word or something?”
“You may have a safe word if you like, but a good daddy doesn’t need one. My job is to be so in tune with you that I know when to push your boundaries and when to pull back.”
Why did those words make her feel all swimmy inside?
“Have I pushed too far yet?”
“No, Daddy,” she said and tucked her face into his chest. She felt like saying I love you again, but this time managed to keep her imprudent confessions to herself.
She need to stop falling in love with this man right away.
*****
“Am I in trouble?” Marissa asked, drawing back, her big eyes even wider than usual.
He kept his expression inscrutable. “What do you think?”
Her hands went to cover her bottom, which made his cock surge against his jeans. God, she really tweaked him. She started to back away.
He advanced without hurry, following her as she backed into the living room.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Or cursed.”
He allowed one side of his mouth to lift in a slight smile. “Thank you for that apology, sweetheart. Now take your clothes off.”
She shivered and reached for the buttons on her shorts.
He really hadn’t intended to spank her. He just wanted her naked and submissive, bared for his pleasure. But a good spanking was never off the table as far as he was concerned.
“Panties too?” she asked as her shorts dropped to the floor.
“Yes, little one. Panties too, today. I want you fully bared to me for the rest of the night.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against a wall to watch. “The whole crew got to see your spectacular breasts today, but only I get to examine the full package.”
Marissa’s lashes lifted, suddenly the seductive ingenue. She held his eyes as she peeled off her thin t-shirt and tossed it on the floor. Hooking her thumbs under each bra strap, she slowly pulled them out and over her shoulders, peeling them down until the cups of her bra flipped over and her perky breasts sprang free. His cock surged against his zipper. Her nipples had already beaded up, the rosy tips pointing at him as if to demand his full attention. She unhooked the back of the bra and dropped it on the pile of clothing puddled at her feet. The panties came next. She feigned shyness and turned her back on him, looking over her shoulder coquettishly as she slid them down.
Another twitch from his cock. Her ass begged to be reddened.
“Come over here,” he commanded.
She turned and walked over, biting her lip in a decidedly seductive manner. She stopped before him, bowing her head.
He reached for her breasts, squeezing them both roughly, then pulling each nipple toward him.
She gasped and stood on her tiptoes, leaning into him.
“Go to the bedroom. In the top drawer of my dresser, you’ll find a buttplug and lube. You will also find nipple clamps and the chain that runs between them. Bring them to me.”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured, an excited tension radiated from her.
He smacked her ass as she departed to hurry her along. Settling on the couch, he crossed one ankle over his knee to wait.
She returned, her hands full with the requested items. She stood over him and started to dump everything on his lap, then seemed to think better of it, tipping her hands back to catch everything to her chest. She lowered to her knees at his feet and dropped her chin, placing her hands and the items she’d brought in her lap.
He stroked her hair, then her cheekbone. “Good girl,” he said. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, picking up one of the nipple clamps. When he opened the alligator mouth, she flinched and watched with wary eyes as he brought it to her nipple. Even though she looked fearful, the smell of her arousal hit him like the aroma of the finest wine.
“Open your knees for Daddy,” he said, reaching with his left hand to slip his fingers between her thighs. She slid them apart by an inch. “A little wider.”
She parted her legs further.
He brushed a fingertip over her pudenda with a feather touch.
She shivered, her breath growing ragged. Her big eyes lifted and pleaded with him.
“You want more, little girl?”
“Yes, please...Daddy.”
He tapped the folds covering her clit. “You want me to touch you here?”
“Um...yes. Yes, Daddy.”
He circled the outside of her lips, still stroking with the lightest touch.
She rolled her pelvis forward to encourage more contact.
He slid his finger over her pleats with more pressur
e, finding her swollen and wet. “Baby wants me,” he observed. He pushed two fingers inside her at the same moment he affixed the clamp to her right breast.
She shrieked and lifted her pelvis up from her heels, standing on her knees.
He withdrew his finger, making a tsking sound. “Sit on your bottom, little girl.”
She whimpered, but sat back down, gazing up at him with need.
He returned the pads of his fingers to exploring her folds, watching Marissa’s eyelids drop as she made a slight humming noise of appreciation. He circled her clit, rubbed and pinched it, bringing her back to standing on her knees, whimpering for more. He clamped the second alligator clip over her left nipple and tugged the chain to make her gasp.
“Lie over my lap.”
She dived over his lap, her thighs open, as if begging for his continued touch.
He began to spank her—hard. Not for any reason. He wasn’t upset that she’d been snappish, nor did he think she deserved punishment. He just wanted the pleasure of making her squirm and wriggle in pain.
“Daddy,” she gasped, the muscles in her back taut as she arched her torso.
“Yes, my dear?” he asked casually, all the while continuing to spank at a rapid pace.
“Are you mad at me? I’m sorry!”
“Daddy isn’t angry,” he said. “This is a good girl spanking. It reminds you to be good for your daddy, so you remember he’s in charge.”
“Ohh.” Her response came out more as a moan than a word. Her juices leaked onto her inner thighs, confirming she found that idea as appealing as he did.
She lay still for the next ten spanks or so, then began to wiggle, her bottom squeezing.
“Relax your muscles,” he said, slapping the back of her thigh.
“Ow,” she cried, but released her clenched cheeks.
He continued to spank until her skin had turned a lush shade of pink and she had begun to bounce around and cry out, her muscles tightening again. He picked up the lube from the floor and spread a dollop over the butt plug.
“This will keep you from clenching,” he said, pushing the bulbous tip against her little rosette.
She squealed and tightened even more.
He slapped the backs of her thighs several times, hard.
“Oweeee.”
“Do I need to get the crop to remind you to be a good girl?”
“No, Daddy,” she wailed, but her bottom was still on complete clamp-down.
“Open for Daddy. One...two…”
“Ahhh,” she moaned, but softened her muscles.
“That’s better,” he said. “Take a deep breath.”
She opened, her low back expanding with air.
“Exhale.”
As she blew out her breath, he pushed the plug forward.
She gave a squeak of protest and he stopped pushing forward, but held the ground he’d gained.
“Open.”
Three seconds passed and she unclenched.
“When Daddy decides you need a plug in your ass, you take it. Understand?”
She opened a little.
“That’s better. I can see you’re trying. Just a little more, sweet girl.”
“I can’t,” she wailed.
“Yes, you can. You took Daddy’s cock, you can take his plug. Now open up or Daddy will put the plug in you and then cane you seven times for being difficult.”
She made a mewling sound, but her bottom opened and the plug slid in, stretching her over its widest diameter before it seated, deep within her.
“Oh Daddy,” she moaned.
He lifted her off his lap and pulled her to sit, facing away from him with her knees hooked over his, her thighs held apart. He wrapped an arm around her waist and brought his palm back smartly over her mound.
She gasped in surprise.
“Daddy’s going to spank your pussy now, little girl,” he said, nipping her ear.
She let out a quavering moan.
He slapped her pussy, the moisture gathered there making a loud smack. “Marissa, you’re soaking wet,” he chided.
“I knoooow,” she wailed. “Daddy—?”
He slapped her again and again. “Yes, baby?”
“Oh, God, please.”
“What do you need, baby?”
“I want you to take me. Please, Daddy?”
“Get on your knees and forearms,” he said, his voice roughened with lust. He lifted her off his lap and pushed her down at his feet, fumbling for a condom from his wallet. Her ass had never looked so delectable— her cheeks colored by his hand, the plug stuffed in her rear entrance. He pulled her hips and impaled her on his ready cock.
“Oh, yeah, Daddy,” she crooned.
He held his position and pulled her hips to move her tight channel over his cock. She gave herself to him, following his lead.
All the unspent desire pent up from their morning on-screen romp had him rock hard as he yanked her into him, burying his cock in her delicious heat. “You feel so good,” he said. “So...damn...good.”
“Oh please, Daddy,” she cried, her voice rising to a desperate pitch.
He pulled harder, faster. Then, wanting more leverage, he clipped, “On your stomach,” and wrapped an arm around her waist, following her down with his dick still deep inside her. The second she hit the floor, he pounded into her, thrusting hard and deep, hitting her front wall with each stroke.
She let out a single, sustained note—a high-pitched keen that didn’t stop as he plowed in and out of her with a violent need. Cum surged down his shaft.
“Oh hell yeah,” he shouted, slamming into her and staying buried as he shot his load.
“Oh, Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy,” Marissa wailed, her hips bucking under him, her muscles squeezing his cock like a fist. He seemed to come forever, the intense pleasure of her contracting muscles milking every last bit of seed from him.
They panted, his body covering hers, her back heaving against his chest. She clenched her muscles on purpose this time, sending one more shudder of release through him.
“Oh God, little girl. You keep that up and I’ll never let you up.”
She turned her head to the side, resting it on her hands. “You like that?” she asked, doing it again.
He groaned. “I like it. I like it so much I might institute mandatory kegel exercises for you so you keep in shape for me.”
She giggled. “Okay.”
He brushed her hair off her neck and nibbled on it. “Okay? You’ll do it to please your daddy?”
“Anything for Daddy.”
He rolled to his side and wrapped his arms around her. Damn. She was perfect. He sure wished he knew if it was all an act.
Chapter Seven
Marissa wrapped a towel around her waist and padded, barefooted out to the kitchen, combing her wet hair. She was sore, in the most delicious way, from the rough sex the night before. Joel had gone to Crossfit. Antonio had texted that he didn’t need them until the next day, so she’d been indulging in a lazy morning, sleeping in and then taking a thirty minute shower.
The sound of the door from the garage reached her and she smiled, wondering if she should drop her towel entirely and let Joel find her naked. She should have realized the footsteps were too fast, too light, but she was wrapped up in her fantasy of being taken by her hot, dominant daddy again. She pulled off her towel and tossed it over the back of a chair, then pulled the espresso machine forward, as if she always made coffee in the nude.
“Oh,” a female voice exclaimed.
She jumped and shrieked, diving for the towel.
“Oh,” the woman repeated inanely. “I didn’t realize Joel had...a guest.” She said the word guest like it was the equivalent of lice or rats. Despite discovering Joel, indeed had a guest, she came in, dropping her purse on the counter like she belonged there.
Fuck. She must be his ex-wife. “Um...what are you doing here?”
She walked straight into the kitchen and opened the cabinet, pulling out
a ceramic airtight container, which she popped open. From a lower cabinet she pulled out a coffee grinder.
So that’s where he kept them.
“I had some time to kill on this side of town, so I thought I’d stop in and have a snack. I get cranky when I get low blood sugar,” she said as if that explained everything. “I saw the Porsche, but I thought maybe Joel had turned in the Tesla or something. He changes cars every six months, you know.”
Actually, she didn’t know, and for some reason that really pissed her off.
“I’m Marissa,” she said, then kicked herself. What the hell was wrong with her? This woman barged in on her, not the other way around.
“Right,” she said. “Marissa Sparks, of course. I know Joel really wanted you for Canyon del Oro.” She poured some beans into the coffee grinder and started it up, turning to give her an up and down look while it ran. When it stopped, she said, “I’m glad it worked out.”
Sweat trickled down Marissa’s ribs and her heart ricocheted around like a pinball in a machine. Why did it bother her so much to know Joel had talked about her with his ex-wife? It felt like a complete violation. Like he’d cheated on her or something, but that was stupid. That was before she even knew him. Except here she was, in his kitchen, making her own coffee while Marissa stood around naked under her towel. For some reason, she didn’t want to leave her in the kitchen to go get dressed. Like she needed to hold her ground.
She tightened the towel. “What’s your name?”
“Oh. Sorry, I’m Allie,” she said, holding out her hand.
Marissa took it reluctantly, and of course, her towel loosened and slipped, so she had to yank her hand back to catch it before she wound up naked again.
“I’m Joel’s wife. I mean, ex-wife. I’m still not used to saying it,” she said with a rueful laugh. “It hasn’t been that long, you know.”
Heat crept up her neck to her ears. No, she didn’t know, really. She didn’t know anything, did she? The snarkiest part of her wanted to say something like, “How’s your yoga instructor?” But she kept her inner bitch inside. Making waves wasn’t her style.
