Page 26 of Small Town Daddy

"How can you know that?" I challenged, even as a part of me desperately wanted to believe him.

"Because that's what parents want for their kids," Marcus said simply. "Your happiness was important to him. It should be important to you too."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd never thought about it that way before.

"I . . . " I started, then stopped, unsure what to say.

Marcus shifted closer, his knee barely brushing mine. "Listen, if you really feel like you need some kind of . . . release from this guilt, maybe we can find a way to do that."

My heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he said carefully, "we could use discipline as a tool. Not to punish you, but to help you let go. To forgive yourself."

I blinked, surprised. "You'd . . . you'd do that?"

He nodded. "If you think it would help. But Lucy," he added, his voice firm, "you're in control here. We stop the second you want to, okay?"

I swallowed hard, a mix of nervousness and something else—excitement? - coursing through me.

"Okay," I whispered. "I think... I think I'd like to try."

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart pounding against my ribs. The soft glow of the fireplace bathed the room in a warm, golden light, casting dancing shadows on the walls. I stood before Marcus, the air thick with unspoken emotions. My fingers trembled slightly as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I'm ready," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Marcus's blue eyes searched mine, deep pools of concern and tenderness. He reached out, his hand gently cupping my cheek. His thumb brushed lightly across my skin, sending a soft shiver down my spine. "Are you absolutely sure?" he asked softly, his gaze never leaving mine.

I leaned into his touch, finding comfort in the warmth of his palm. "Yes," I breathed, nodding slowly. "I trust you."

A faint smile curved his lips. "Alright," he said, his voice soothing. "We'll go slowly. If at any point you want to stop, just tell me."

"I will," I promised, my eyes locked with his.

He took my hand, his fingers entwining with mine, and led me to the plush sofa near the hearth. The flames crackled softly, filling the room with a gentle warmth. Marcus sat down, hisposture relaxed yet attentive. He guided me to stand between his knees, our faces level due to his height even while seated.

"Come here," he murmured, with light authority, his hands resting lightly on my hips. The heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of my clothes, igniting a subtle warmth within me.

I swallowed hard, anticipation and a hint of nervousness fluttering in my stomach. He guided me gently across his lap, his movements careful and deliberate. I settled myself, the position both vulnerable and strangely comforting. The solid strength of his thighs beneath me was reassuring, a steady foundation amidst the swirling emotions.

"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

I nodded, my hair falling forward to curtain my face. "Yes," I replied softly.

He placed a hand on the small of my back, his touch firm yet gentle. "I want you to focus on letting go," he said. "Release the guilt and the doubt. Can you do that for me?"

"I'll try," I whispered.

His other hand rested lightly on my hip. "Good girl," he praised, the words sending a warm flush across my cheeks.

There was a moment of stillness, the only sounds the soft ticking of the clock and the gentle crackle of the fire. Then, I felt the first light tap—a gentle pat more than a spank. It surprised me, a tiny jolt that was more emotional than physical. Heat spread across my skin where his hand had connected, a tingling sensation that lingered.

"Say it with me," Marcus murmured. "I deserve happiness."

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. "I . . . I deserve happiness," I repeated, my voice shaky.

"That's it," he encouraged.

Another gentle swat landed, a little firmer this time but still soft. The warmth of his hand pressed against me lingered, creating a soothing contrast to the slight sting.

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