Page 124 of Big Daddy Christmas
Another huff, louder this time, like a bull staring down a matador.
“Two.”
Tugging at her restraints, and he was rather convinced she would have stomped her foot if she hadn’t been lying down.
“O—”
“Okay, okay!” The words burst out of her and she glared up at him, twin flags of temper flying high on her cheeks. “You win, you ass?—”
“No name calling,” he reminded her, deliberately keeping his tone even in direct contrast to her anger. “Or I will punish you, and you will not enjoy it even a little bit.”
One corner of her lip pulled up in a snarl, and fuck if his cock didn’t ache more at the sight of it. That’s right, princess. I don’t want this pretty, surface-level submission. I want it filthy and messy and painful. I want you.
“Fine. You win, Daddy.”
“Good girl. But I meant what I said about taking your screams by force. Try to hold them back from me again, and you’ll learn exactly what I mean. Understood?”
She swallowed hard again, looking more uncertain than defiant now. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Much better. One more turn of the clamps, I think. If you’re a good girl and let me hear you cry, you may have your pleasure.”
Chapter 7
Aria
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The pain in her left breast was already bordering on unbearable, and the imbalance of the two clamps was making her a little crazy.
And now the asshole wanted her to cry for him?
Fuck.
Releasing her chin, he gave the other clamp a turn, tightening it to match the first. This time when the needles stabbed at her, she let the whimper free, though she fought back the tears burning at the backs of her eyes.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, running a calloused fingertip down the side of her neck, over her collarbone. Every nerve in her body came alive at that simple touch, aching for more. More pain, more pleasure, more of whatever he wanted to give.
And even though she’d fought him on letting him hear how much he’d hurt her, his praise slid through her, wrapping around her and holding her tight. My good girl. Not just ‘good girl’. Or a good girl.
His good girl.
“One more turn. You’re being so good for me, princess. Can you take one more?”
“Y-yes, Daddy. I think so.”
“Tell me if it’s too much. There’s no shame in it.”
She hadn’t known how badly she needed to hear him say those exact words until he did. The nerves jumping in her belly immediately settled and her heart slowed, though it was still beating far too loudly.
“I will,” she promised, lifting her eyes to meet his.
With a small nod of acknowledgment, he traced that finger down over the swell of her breast to her aching nipple.
And gave her more pain.
“Fuck!” The cry ripped from her throat as she threw her head back. Dozens of tiny little needles stabbed at her breast, an agony unlike any she’d ever known. And before she could quite get used to it, he repeated the action on the opposite clamp, and the tears she’d been holding back sprang to her eyes as she let out another pained cry.
“There she is. My beautiful princess of pain. What color are you, baby?”
