I thought I could run from daddy. I was wrong.
Dean Waterhouse was supposed to be a job. Get in. Get married. Take his money and get out.
But he came after me.
Now I’m bound to his bed, about to learn what happens to naughty girls who play games.
The man who put his ring on my finger was gentle. The man who tracked me down is not.
He’s going to make me blush, beg, and scream for him.
Then he’s going to make me call him daddy.
Author: Sara Fields
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$4.95
Length: 66,000 words
The mortifying sound of him pulling his belt from his jeans was so incredibly loud. I whimpered before I could stop myself. I couldn’t see him, but that didn’t matter because he decided to lean over the bed and hold the thick black leather belt right in front of my face.
“I’m going to whip this disobedient little bottom with my belt until you tell Daddy what he wants to hear. You should know that Daddy’s belt is so much worse than Daddy’s hand, little girl,” he said firmly.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.
The leather was thick and worn in, like he’d been wearing it and breaking it in for a very long time. I squirmed, sliding my thighs back and forth as I imagined what it would feel like. I was afraid, but at the same time, there was a tiny piece of me that was curious what it would be like.
My clit throbbed hard for the first time.
I shuddered hard. I wanted to come.
Worst of all, I wanted him to do it.
I wanted Daddy to make me come.
Something was so very wrong with me. Maybe I was broken.
A strangled cry fell off my lips as he pushed himself off the bed next to me and dragged the belt out of my sight. Time seemed to stop as he stood up beside me and laid that wretched leather across my backside.
“Are you angry with me?” I blurted out. I didn’t know where that had come from. I just said it.
“No, little girl,” he answered.
“Is this some sort of revenge?”
“No. It isn’t,” he replied softly.
“Then what is this?” I pressed.
“This is Daddy taking control and giving you exactly what you need, little girl.”
I froze, horrified that those words had been on the tip of my tongue just as the belt thrashed my naked cheeks for the first time. At first, it simply felt slightly more painful than his hand, but then it began to build.
And fucking build some more.
The simmering burn turned into a scalding hot line of fire and it caught me so off guard that I wailed. A second followed. Then a third.
He was right. The belt was so much worse than his hand and the fact that I couldn’t make it stop made it that much more so. The wicked leather whipped me over and over again, from the top of my bottom all the way down to the fullest part of my backside and then it descended even further than that.
He didn’t stop at the tops of my thighs.
He went even lower.
He thoroughly punished the entirety of my bare bottom, making sure that even my thighs were welted from the terrible implement. He even laid a single stripe across the fullest part of my calves. That one made me scream.
Oh, God. Please let this end soon.
It didn’t. It felt like it was going on forever and ever and soon my desperate pants became pitiful cries and then my breath hitched in the back of my throat.
He was going to make me cry.