Page 67 of Punish Me, Daddy

“Wrong answer,” he growled.

And then hespankedmy pussy.

Right there in his lap, one hand tangling into my hair, the other landing hard on the wet folds of my slit. The sound echoed through the office, and I yelped, shocked at the sting, the suddenness, the sheerforceof it.

“Such a bad little girl,” he rumbled, and his voice cut straight down into my soul.

Another sharp slap.

I moaned—embarrassingly loud—because the pain melted straight into the pleasure still pulsing between my thighs.

“I think you need to remember what happens when you mouth off,” he murmured.

He pressed his fingers into me and I cried out, the sound catching in my throat as my body jolted forward.

My hands clutched at his shoulders, my nails digging in. Everything inside me contracted like a bomb about to blow.

“Beg for it,” he whispered.

I shook my head, breathless, desperate.

He moved faster, thumb circling my clit, fingers thrusting with slow, punishing precision. My vision blurred.

“Say it, baby girl,” he growled. “Or I’ll stop.”

I broke.

Ibroke.

“Please, Daddy,” I sobbed, hips rocking, thighs shaking. “Please let me come—please, please?—”

“Come for Daddy, baby girl.”

And then I fell apart.

Hard.

I came with a cry, loud and raw, burying my face into his neck as every nerve in my body exploded at once. My legs quaked. My stomach clenched. My hands fisted the collar of his shirt like I might fall off if I didn’t hold on.

Still, he kept touching me—dragging it out, working me through every aftershock like he wanted to make sure I never forgot who did this to me.

“Good girl,” he breathed, kissing the side of my head as I shuddered in his lap. “My perfect baby girl.”

I couldn’t stop trembling. He’d made me come completely undone with just the fingers of one hand.

I panted soft gasps into his neck as he let go of my hair, my whole body going limp and useless, melting into him like I might never move again. My thighs were shaking. My cheeks were still flushed. Myeverythingwas buzzing.

And yet…

My mouth moved before my brain caught up.

“Was that your best, Daddy?” I whispered, my voice soft and teasing, still laced with aftershocks.

I didn’t even know why I said it. Maybe it was the high. Maybe it was leftover pride clawing its way out of me like it couldn’t stand being this soft for too long. Whatever, it was too late to take those words back, and I felt the change in him the second they left my lips.

He went still beneath me. His hand stopped stroking my thigh, and he let out the softest little laugh: dark, dangerous,amused.

“Oh, baby girl,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Youreallydon’t know when to quit, do you?”

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