Exhausted and wanting nothing more than to go home and curl up on her couch with a glass of red wine the size of her head, Olivia Monroe pushed through the front doors of her agency’s office. A tall, lanky man she didn’t recognize nodded politely at her as he held the door open. Mustering her waning energy, she gave him her best happy realtor smile.
“Who was that?” she asked the small, mousy woman behind the desk. MaryAnn Foster had been their receptionist for just over a year, but Olivia still wasn’t sure exactly how she’d gotten the job. She always looked like she was terrified of every person who walked through the door.
MaryAnn’s eyes went wide behind her slightly-too-large-to-be-trendy frames. “Oh, um, he was interviewing for the open realtor position.”
“Right, right.” Olivia vaguely remembered James mentioning an interview that afternoon. “I’ll be in my office if anybody needs me.”
“Um, Mrs. Monroe?”
Olivia tensed at the undercurrent of fear in the other woman’s voice. “Yes?”
“You know those papers you asked me to fax over for the D’Angelos?” Eyes darting around the office, MaryAnn licked her lips nervously. “I, um, sort of forgot.”
Too stunned for a moment to even speak, Olivia stared at the tearful woman behind the desk. “The deadline on that was yesterday, MaryAnn. Tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish I was, Mrs. Monroe.” MaryAnn’s normally quiet voice had dropped to a nearly impossible to hear whisper.
“Tell me how this happened. Tell me, in detail, how you could be so fucking stupid.”
MaryAnn opened and closed her mouth several times, reminding Olivia of one of the goldfish she’d won at a county fair as a child. “I-I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry.” Olivia barked out a laugh that lacked any humor. “Well, then. You can call my clients and tell them you’re sorry their paperwork wasn’t submitted to their lender on time. And while you’re at it, you can tell them how sorry you are they won’t be getting their dream house after all.”
“Is there a problem here?”
Closing her eyes, Olivia fought back a wave of irritation. There had been a time, not so long ago, when that voice would have made her knees tremble. She would have dreaded turning around, dreaded facing his disappointment and anger.
But these days, the anger and disappointment seemed to be all hers. Plastering a smile on her face, Olivia turned to face her boss. Her boss, who also happened to be her husband.
And, up until a few months ago, her daddy.
“No problem at all. Unless you consider being surrounded by complete morons to be a problem.”
The corners of his lips turned down, just slightly, in a look she knew all too well. Her heart rate kicked up, and her palms dampened with sweat. Had she pushed him too far? Memories of past punishments, of painful discipline at the hands of the man who ruled both their workplace and their home flickered through her mind. Hope and fear warred together in her stomach, doing far more damage than silly butterflies ever could.
But his eyes shifted from her to the woman behind her desk, and disappointment swamped her once more.
“What’s going on here, MaryAnn?”
Sympathy stirred in Olivia’s heart. “It’s really nothing, James. Nothing MaryAnn and I can’t work out between us. Isn’t that right, MaryAnn?”
MaryAnn’s dark brown eyes swam with gratitude. “Absolutely, Mrs. Monroe. I’ll take care of it right away.”
“Thank you.” Olivia gave her husband a small nod before turning on her heel and marching down the short hallway to her office. With the door safely shut behind her, she leaned back against the wood, giving herself some time to tame her out-of-control emotions.
“Get a grip, Monroe,” she muttered. “It’s better this way.”
The logical, rational part of her agreed, cheering loudly at her resolve. But the little girl inside of her, the part of herself she’d fought for months now to ignore, sat quietly in a corner with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Annoyed with herself, she pushed away from the door and placed her bags on the desk. There was no use in sitting around feeling sorry for herself. She and James had worked too hard to build their business over the past few years for her to throw it all away just because her marriage had hit a rough patch. Dropping into her chair, she stared at the blank monitors on her desk and willed her system to settle.
A familiar, firm knock rapped on the door before it swung open. She tensed, subconsciously bracing for a fight when James stepped inside and shut the door behind him again with an audible, ominous click.
He stood just in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze steady and unwavering. The seconds ticked by with the two of them locked in a silent battle of wills before he finally spoke.
“What was that all about, Olivia Jane?”
Her full name. Oh, God. Despite the hurt and anger, heat flooded her pussy, soaking through the sensible underwear beneath her practical business skirt. Outwardly, she gave him only a slight tilt of the head and a confused expression. “What exactly are you asking about, James?”
His eyes narrowed, and she had to force herself to keep her eyes on his. Years of training, coupled with her naturally submissive nature, urged her to lower her gaze to the desk. But she kept her head high, refusing to give him even the slightest bit of acquiescence.
“You were reading MaryAnn the riot act when I walked in, and as soon as I ask about it, everything is fine. What aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s being handled.”
She could read the frustration on his face, plain as day. He took a step forward, and then another, until he was directly in front of her desk. Eyes locked on her, he uncrossed his arms and lowered his hands, pressing his palms into the smooth solid wood.
“You and I are going to talk. Tonight.” With that pronouncement, he stood and straightened the flawlessly cut jacket of his suit. “You will be home no later than six-thirty. I will take care of dinner.” His eyes met hers once more, and the resolve in them would have brought her to her knees if she hadn’t already been sitting. “I suggest you take some time over the next few hours to think about what you want. From our business as well as our marriage. I’ll see you at home.”
Without another word, he turned and left her office. The sound of the door clicking shut behind him might as well have been a gunshot. Olivia jumped at the noise, nearly knocking over the half empty can of soda sitting next to her docking station.
Tears burned behind her eyes. How the hell was she supposed to get any work done after a bomb like that? Months had passed with little more than a disapproving look here and there, and all of a sudden, he wanted to talk?
Fighting back her growing panic, she grabbed her purse and laptop bag. There was no way she would be getting any work done now. Walking out with her head down to avoid talking to anyone, she sent out an SOS message to her closest friend, Shannon.
Need coffee. James is being super weird.
Halfway to her car, her phone vibrated with an incoming message. Some of the panic ebbed when she read the response.
Be there in ten.
Without her usual care, she tossed the laptop bag in the backseat and slid behind the wheel of her SUV. She and James each drove one, which would have been overkill if they didn’t come in so handy for work.
There wasn’t, thankfully, much time to think on the short drive to the coffee house she and Shannon had adopted at the start of their friendship. Olivia didn’t even like coffee; she only went to humor Shannon, though the shop did have the best hot chocolate in Baltimore—possibly all of Central Maryland.
She snagged herself a cup of said hot chocolate with extra whipped cream, and debated briefly over the extra calories in the huge chocolate chip cookie before ordering one of those as well. Thankfully, the shop was relatively empty at three in the afternoon, and she was able to find a pair of chairs away from the other patrons.
Shannon walked in just as Olivia was settling into one of the oversized armchairs. Tall, blonde, and thin as a rail, Shannon Wright looked as though she’d just walked off the cover of one of those fashion magazines MaryAnn was always sighing over. Her eyes scanned the shop until she found Olivia. With a wink and a wave, she strolled up to the counter and placed her order. Large medium roast, with just a splash of cream. She’d ordered the same thing every day for as long as they’d known each other.
Coffee in hand, Shannon glided across the shop and plunked her skinny ass down into the chair beside Olivia. “So, what’s going on with you and Mr. Sexy?”
Sipping her hot chocolate, Olivia debated on how much to share. She’d met Shannon at a play party in college and they’d stayed close, despite the fact that Shannon worked for one of James’s biggest competitors in town. So there wasn’t much about her personal life Olivia hadn’t shared with the bombshell blonde across from her. But she’d been careful not to mention the growing distance between her and James. “Things are… weird lately. With me and James.”
“Mr. Sexy getting handsy at work?” Shannon asked with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.
With a roll of her eyes, Olivia snorted. “No.” She broke off a piece of her cookie and shoved it in her mouth. “Just the opposite, actually. It’s like we can’t switch it off when we get home anymore. He says we need to talk tonight.”
Shannon’s baby blues widened. “Just talk or talk?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t talked in months.”
Unable to meet her friend’s eyes, Olivia studied her cup as she swirled the hot chocolate around. “I don’t know, really. We’ve just been drifting apart, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
There was a long, heavy silence before Shannon spoke again. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do.”
Intrigued by the resolve in Shannon’s voice, Olivia looked up. “Okay?”
“You’re going to go home, put on your best ‘Fuck me, Daddy’ outfit, and make that man talk to you. Talk and talk, if that’s what you need. Then, you’re going to seduce him and fuck like bunnies until you can’t see straight.”
“I wish it was that simple,” Olivia grumbled.
“Why isn’t it?”
“It just isn’t. He’s barely touched me in months.”
“Babe, all couples go through dry patches. Just talk to the man, or I swear I’ll spank you myself.”
“Shay!” Olivia glanced around to see if anyone had heard Shannon’s threat. But all of the other patrons were glued to their phones and tablets. “You’re horrible, you know that?”
“I love you. And I’m not about to sit back and let my favorite couple implode because you’re both too stubborn to talk it out.”
Blowing out a breath, Olivia leaned back in her chair. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But I’m crashing at your place if this all blows up in my face.”
Inside the house she’d shared with her husband for the last six years, Olivia stared at the closed door in front of her. There’d been a time when she’d spent some time in the room behind that door nearly every day. Whether it was waiting on her daddy to come punish her or just taking some time to decompress, this had been her safe place.
For the first time in weeks, she reached for the knob and turned. The door swung open, and her eyes filled at the sight of the familiar room. At her request, the walls had been painted a lovely pale green—her favorite color. The antique four-poster bed she’d picked out herself still stood against the middle of the far wall, with one lonely stuffed hippo sitting between the fluffy peach-colored pillows.
If anyone had poked their head into the room over the years, they would have seen a rather fussy, feminine spare room, but little more. She hadn’t wanted a nursery, or really even a playroom. What she’d wanted—and been given—was simply a space to unwind and be herself when life started to weigh too heavily on her.
Shaking off the memories, she crossed the room to the dark dresser and opened the top drawer. Simple cotton panties filled the space. She chose a pair in pale lavender, because purple was Daddy’s favorite.
“Not that he’ll notice,” she mumbled to herself, shutting the drawer with a snap before opening the one below it.
Closing her eyes, she fought back tears as a wave of misery washed over her. This whole thing was pointless. James hadn’t shown any interest in being her daddy for months. She was going to make a fool of herself, throwing herself at him this way.
But the image of him, his eyes flashing with anger and resolve, was burned into her brain. That afternoon, she’d caught a glimpse of the man she’d married. The one who could turn her knees to water and her mind to mush with just a look.
She wanted that man back. And if she had to humiliate herself to get him back, then that was exactly what she’d do.
Filled with a renewed resolve, she opened her eyes and plucked a pair of pajamas from the drawer. She carried the clothes through a door just to the right of her bed, to the adjoining guest bathroom. There, she quickly stripped and hopped in the shower. James would be home soon and she wanted to be ready for him.
Once she’d scrubbed off her makeup and run a razor over her legs, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed one of the large, fluffy towels she always kept on hand in the guest bathroom. She quickly finger-combed her curls before pulling the long chestnut locks into a ponytail high on her head. No pigtails for her. She’d tried them a couple of times, but never could get used to the way they looked on her. And Daddy was fond of the single ponytail. Heat crept up her neck to her cheeks when she thought of all the times he’d wrapped her ponytail around his hand before forcing his cock between her lips.
She pressed her thighs together against the ache her memories inspired. Though she and James still slept together regularly, it wasn’t the same. She longed to be forced to her knees, or onto her back, her body open and ready for his pleasure. And hers, if he allowed it, though she couldn’t deny the thrill it gave her when he denied her, when he used her body with little or no regard for her wants or needs.
She decided against even a hint of makeup, valiantly trying to ignore the wrinkles and dark circles under her eyes. James preferred her without makeup at home, and tonight was about pleasing her daddy, so maybe he would remember how much he loved playing his part.
The slamming of the front door made her jump. With a muttered curse, she dropped the towel and hurried into her panties and pajamas. Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she took a deep, steadying breath and opened the door to the hall.
James stopped mid-stride in the middle of the hall and stared at her. His gorgeous blue eyes went wide, raking down her plump body and back up again. When their eyes met, she saw the hunger and the need swirling in his for just a moment before they went flat again.
Her heart trembled, on the verge of shattering. If he rejected her tonight, how could she face him again?
No, she couldn’t. She knew the answer in her bones. If he rejected her, if he turned his back on what she—they—so desperately needed, their marriage was over.
“Hi,” she said, deliberately keeping her voice soft and submissive. The word Daddy stuck in her throat, but she prayed it was implied clearly enough.
“What is this, Olivia?”
There was no softness in his voice, and she winced at the cold, hard tone. “I-I just… you said we needed to talk. I want to talk.” It was pretty lame, as far as explanations went, but she couldn’t seem to conjure up anything better.
Hope shimmered at the curiosity she saw flaring in his eyes. “Why the outfit?”
Olivia caught her bottom lip with her top teeth, a nervous habit she knew drove him wild in all the best ways. Lowering her head, she looked up at him through her lashes. “Can we talk in my room?”
James was studying her, his eyes searching her face for something. When he seemed to find it, he nodded once and gestured down the hall to her room. “Go wait for me on your bed. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
The careful hope she’d carried with her all afternoon was now a living thing inside of her. Olivia took off down the hall, slowing abruptly at her husband’s sharp admonishment of “No running!” But even his scolding couldn’t dim the happiness inside of her.
In her room, she hopped onto the bed, drumming her feet against the side while she waited. A few seconds passed and she realized she was too nervous to sit still. She hopped down again and began pacing the room.
The sound of his voice froze her in place. It wasn’t fear, exactly, that sent the butterflies dancing in her stomach. It was some strange mix of anxiety, anticipation, and excitement. She turned to the door, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her daddy filling the doorway.
He’d changed out of his perfect business suit into a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, perfectly showcasing his lean, taut forearms. And threaded through the loops of the old, faded jeans was the thick leather belt her bottom was well acquainted with. Was she drooling? She lifted a hand to her mouth just to be sure, relieved to find her chin dry.
“Yes?” The word was barely a whisper.
He lifted an eyebrow, a gesture that never failed to have her tummy doing somersaults. “Are you doing what you were told?”
She was so distracted by him, by the longing in her heart, it took her a moment to remember what he’d told her to do. When she did, she rushed to her bed and hopped up on mattress again, her hands folded in her lap.
James walked over to the large desk in the corner of her bedroom and grabbed the straight-backed chair. He carried it over to the bed and placed it directly in her line of sight before dropping onto the hard wooden seat.
“You want to go first, little one?”
The endearment emboldened her, and Olivia nodded. Her fingers twisted against each other in her lap, and the nervousness she’d held at bay all afternoon flooded her. “I…” She swallowed, her throat suddenly too dry to speak. “I just, I know things have been weird and I…” She looked up and met his gaze, his eyes filled with emotions she hadn’t seen in so long she’d forgotten what they looked like. “I want my daddy back!” The words burst out of her, accompanied by a rush of hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
Seconds ticked by with the silence growing heavy and strained between them before he spoke. “Do you?”
“Huh?” Sniffling, she swiped at her eyes and stared at him.
“Do you really want your daddy back? Or is that just what you think I want?”
She blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. “What kind of question is that? I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t want it!”
Sighing deeply, he scrubbed a hand over his face. “I want to believe you, Olivia. God, I want to, so badly. But I need to know you mean it.”
Flabbergasted, she gestured at her pajamas. “What do you think this is all about? You think I just put on my little girl PJs and had you come in here, to my space, for the hell of it?” Though she hadn’t been given permission, she slid from the bed and knelt in front of him. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“It’s a lot of little things. At first I thought you were just pushing the boundaries, testing me. But then the last few times I punished you, you seemed to resent it. Not immediately, but you were… distant, for a day or so after.”
As much as it hurt to hear, he was right. She’d gotten so wrapped up in being a hot-shot realtor, it had grated to have him issuing orders. Looking back, it was clear to see how she’d pulled away, little by little.
“You’re right. I was having trouble balancing my career and our home life. But,” she broke off and shook her head.
“No. None of that, Olivia. Finish your thought.”
Chewing on her lip, she finally lifted her head to look up at him again. “Can I be completely honest?”
She took a deep breath, reaching deep for the courage to say what needed to be said. “I did pull away. And there were days I struggled with submitting to you. I own that, and I know that’s on me. But you let me push you away. You never talked to me about it or asked me why. You just let me go, and it broke my heart.”
The silence that filled the room weighed on her. Did he feel it too? Did it sit on his chest, making each breath a chore like it did for her?
Shock had her mouth falling open. “What?”
“You’re right. I thought you wanted me to back off, and instead of sitting down and talking it out, maybe renegotiating our dynamic, I pulled away from you. I’m sorry, Livvy. I let you down, both as your husband and your daddy.”
The knots in her stomach began to loosen. “We’re both to blame. I wasn’t honest with you about how I was feeling.”
“How about we give ourselves a fresh start? Wipe the slate clean and hit the reset button tonight.”
She smiled, love for him filling all the empty places she hadn’t realized were there. “Okay, Daddy.”
The vise around James’s heart loosened at his wife’s simple response. Okay, Daddy. When was the last time he’d heard those words from her lips? When was the last time she’d called him Daddy at all?
He’d thought she was over being his little girl. And though it had broken his heart, every day, he’d kept his mouth shut. All he’d ever wanted was for her to be happy, and he’d thought she was happy with her role as his wife and business partner.
But that afternoon, he’d gotten a glimpse beneath the tough exterior. When he’d walked in her office, she hadn’t been quick enough to hide the glimmer of tears in her eyes. So he’d pushed his luck. And when he’d leaned over her desk to lay down the law, it hadn’t just been tears shimmering in her eyes.
There had been pure, raw need. A kind he hadn’t seen in her or felt in himself for months.
And when she’d walked out of her bathroom, her hair in the high ponytail he adored, wearing nothing but a plain pink tank top and pair of pajama bottoms with tiny hippos frolicking on a field of blue? His heart had stopped.
But he’d needed more. Needed to hear it from her lips before he felt like he could let his guard down. The relief he’d felt when she’d finally blurted out that she wanted her daddy back had nearly made him weep with joy.
And now, with her kneeling at his feet, watching him expectantly, he had some decisions to make. They needed a fresh start, and if he knew his girl, there was only one way to go about it.
“Stand up, Olivia.”
Her eyes went wide, and there was just a little flicker of fear in the brown depths. But she pushed to her feet and stood in front of him, her fingers picking at the fabric of her pajama bottoms.
“I’m going to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer. Okay?”
She hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.
“Have you been acting out at work to see if Daddy would punish you?”
Another hesitation followed by a much smaller nod.
He’d wondered. Months ago, when the distance between them had begun to grow, her behavior at work and at home had changed. More and more he’d overheard her swearing in the office, or being rude to MaryAnn. He’d thought it was simply her exercising her newfound independence. Hindsight being 20/20, he could now see the behavior for what it was: a cry for help.
Well, his little girl was about to get all the help she needed.
“I thought that might be the case. So, here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to go over my knee for a long, hard spanking on your bare bottom. Then you’re going to sit at your desk and write lines while I go make us some dinner. After dinner, we’re going to have another talk. How the rest of the night goes depends on our talk.”
“What kind of talk?”
“We’re going to talk about where we went wrong and how we can make sure things don’t go so far off the rails going forward.”
He heard the nerves in her quiet voice, and they were written all over her face. Normally, he would enjoy the anticipation, making her wait and squirm before he finally delivered her punishment. But he wanted to get this over with so they could get back to normal as quickly as possible. With that in mind, he took her hand and guided her over his left knee.
“Daddy’s going to make sure you’re a good girl from now on.”
The small whimper that escaped from her lips had him hardening uncomfortably. Ignoring his own discomfort, he raised his hand and brought it down on her bottom with a smack that echoed in the small room.
He gave himself a moment to enjoy the feel of her bottom giving way under his hand. To appreciate her little gasp of surprise, and the sting in his own palm before he focused on giving his little girl the spanking she needed. He spanked fast and hard, not giving her time to recover from one swat before he laid down the next. Olivia wiggled over his knee, her bottom jiggling with each swat.
“Ow! Daddy, stop!”
Her feet drummed against the floor as she struggled, and damned if it wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
“Daddy will stop when you’ve learned your lesson, little girl.”
“I—ow!—I have! Please, Daddy!”
It really was adorable how she thought they were done when he hadn’t even pulled her pajama bottoms down. James paused long enough to do exactly that, chuckling at the pale purple cotton against her olive-toned skin. “Were you hoping wearing my favorite color would earn you some leniency, Livvy?”
“Maybe,” she admitted, twisting her torso around to grin up at him.
“Cheeky brat.” Because he knew she’d be disappointed if her ploy worked, he put a little extra force behind the next flurry of swats.
Howling, Olivia kicked her feet up to cover her bottom and he paused the spanking to frown at the disobedient form draped over his knee. Had it been so long since he’d punished her that she’d forgotten the rules?
“Olivia Jane. Put your feet on the floor right this minute.”
“But Daddy, it hurts!”
He hardened his heart against the long, plaintive wail. “At the risk of sounding cliché, it’s supposed to hurt, little girl. Feet down or we finish with my belt.”
The threat was enough to have her dropping her feet to the floor immediately. He picked up where he left off, and the room filled with the sounds of his hand connecting with her bottom and her pitiful cries.
By the time he paused again, she was panting and whimpering over his knee. He could see the bright pink of her bottom peeking out from beneath her panties. But they weren’t finished. She wasn’t where she needed to be, and he’d promised her a bare bottom spanking. If he didn’t deliver on his promise, she wouldn’t trust him to keep his word on anything else they’d discussed.
So he blocked out her whimpers of distress and slipped her panties down to her knees. When his hand connected with her bare bottom, her whimpers turned to shrieks.
Now he took his time, letting each swat sink in before layering the next on top of it. When she reached a hand back to protect her bottom from the onslaught, he easily grabbed her wrist and pinned it to her back.
James tightened his grip on her hand, firmly pinning her in place while he seared her bottom with firm, well-placed swats. When he heard her breath begin to hitch, he moved lower, focusing his attention on the sensitive curve of her lower bottom. He wanted to be sure she felt his love for her when she sat down to write her lines.
It only took a dozen on her sit-spots to bring on the tears. His little girl went limp over his knee, sobbing as though her heart was breaking. After another six solid swats, he helped her up so she could curl up on his lap.
“Shhh, little one. There’s my good girl. I’m so proud of how you took your spanking.”
“Hurts,” she said, her voice little more than a whimper. Sniffling pitifully, she pressed her face into his neck.
“I know. But don’t you feel so much better now?”
“No. My bottom hurts.”
Chuckling at her petulant protests, he pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. “Well, how does your heart feel?”
She sighed and snuggled in closer. James closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of having his little girl in his arms again.
“It’s better,” she eventually admitted. “I’m sorry I was so bad.”
“You weren’t bad. Sit up, little one.”
She obeyed, wincing when her tender bottom pressed against the stiff denim of his jeans. Cupping her cheek with one hand, his eyes locked with hers. “I love you. And I’m sorry I didn’t see how badly you needed me. From now on, I’ll try to pay better attention. But I need something from you, too.”
“I need you to come to me, and be honest with me if I’m not being the daddy you need. You’re not to act out at work to try and get my attention. And to make sure you remember that, you’re going to write ‘I will be honest with Daddy’ fifty times and ‘I will not act like a brat at work’ fifty times.”
Her lower lip pushed out, and he couldn’t resist leaning in and capturing her lips with his own. The taste of her was better than the sweetest wine. She sighed into the kiss and when her arms came up to loop around his neck, he nearly gave in to his need for her.
But his little girl still had some lessons to learn. And since this whole fiasco was partly his fault, it only seemed fair for him to suffer right along with her. Reluctantly, he pulled away and broke the kiss.
“Let’s get those lines started and Daddy will go make dinner.”
Still pouting, she stood and shuffled over to her desk. He followed behind, carrying the chair back to its rightful place. Olivia wrinkled her nose before looking longingly at the pillows on the bed and then back at him, her question clear in her eyes.
“No, Livvy. I want you to feel how much your bottom hurts and think about that while you’re writing your lines.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she conceded with a sigh before lowering herself into the chair. She winced when her bottom pressed into the unforgiving wood. He gave her a minute to squirm before he placed the paper and pencil in front of her.
“Fifty of each, Livvy. What happens if you don’t finish before I come back upstairs?”
“I get another spanking.”
“With?” he prompted gently.
“Your belt,” she whispered, her wary gaze landing on the thick leather encircling his waist.
“That’s right. One for each line you don’t finish. You better get started, little one.”
She sighed, but picked up her pencil without argument and started writing. Leaning down, he pressed another kiss to her hair and left to go make dinner for his favorite girl.