Page 94 of Punish Me, Daddy

Her lashes flickered against her cheeks. Her lips, parted slightly in sleep, were still kiss-bruised. I could see the faint trace of where she’d bitten her own lip the day before, trying not toscream when I’d made her ride my thigh. Her skin still carried the warmth of what I’d done to her, where I’d touched her, tasted her, broken her open just to put her back together again.

She was beautiful like this, not because she was perfect, but because she wasreal.Vulnerable. Bare. In a way no one had ever been with me before.

I wanted to reward her for it. Not with control. Not with praise. But with pleasure.

Slow. Deep. Unrelenting pleasure.

I let my hand drift down her spine, light and careful, just enough to make her stir. She let out a soft sound in her sleep—half sigh, half question—and shifted closer.

I pressed my mouth to her shoulder, let my lips graze the skin there as my hand slid lower. Over the curve of her hip, between her thighs, where she was still tender and warm and already wet.

She moaned, her body arching instinctively into my touch.

Good girl.

I dragged my fingers through her soft folds, lazy and unhurried, and whispered into her neck, “Wake up.”

She blinked, breath catching as her hips pushed into my hand. “Wha?—”

“Shh.” I kissed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her jaw. “Don’t talk. Just take.”

Her legs parted for me without a second thought, and fuck, the way her body reacted—like it remembered me even before her mind had caught up with what was happening—nearly broke me.

I circled her clit with two fingers, barely enough pressure, just enough friction to make her squirm. She whimpered, pressing her face into the crook of my neck, one hand clutching the sheet like it could ground her.

“Keep still,” I murmured. “Let Daddy give this to you.”

She nodded, dazed, breath shaky.

I dipped a finger inside her, then another, curling them just right, the way I knew she liked. She was tight, hot, already close. I could feel it in the way her walls clenched around my fingers, in the way her breath quivered with every stroke.

“You don’t have to earn this,” I said softly. “Not this morning. This one’s mine to give.”

I pumped my fingers into her, making her moan and writhe and shake.

“That’s it. Come for Daddy. Let me hear those pretty sounds.”

She came with a gasp, biting her lip, trembling in my arms, body melting into mine like she was finally learning how to stop holding herself together so tightly.

I held her through it. Kissed her shoulder. Whispered her name like a prayer. When it was over, when her breathing slowed and her body went still again, I didn’t let go.

I just pulled the blanket over us, kissed the back of her neck, and whispered, “That’s what it’s going to be like.”

She didn’t answer, but I felt her press a little closer.

And that was enough.

By the time she padded into the kitchen, I was already done cooking breakfast. She was barefoot, hair a sleep-tangled mess, wearing nothing but one of my shirts, and she moved like she belonged in that space, inmyspace, without needing to ask permission.

To be honest, Ireallyliked it.

She didn’t say anything as she entered the kitchen. Just took one look at the breakfast already plated and sat down without a word. Scrambled eggs, toasted sourdough, smoked salmon, and black coffee poured into a heavy mug.

We ate in silence, and it felt comfortable. Her foot brushed my leg once under the table. Not by accident. She didn’t meet my eyes, but she didn’t need to. I could feel her gears turning. She was thinking about something. I just had to wait to find out what.

She swallowed her last bite and finally looked up at me, pushing her empty plate a few inches forward. “What are you doing today?”

“Business this morning,” I said. “Meeting with Maxim and Sergei. Some friction at the new warehouse near Boston Harbor.”

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