Page 14 of Daddy's Little Spy

“No.” Her voice was steadier than she’d expected it to be, given the nervous jig her stomach was currently engaged in.

“No, Daddy.”

The jig intensified, even as her arousal flooded her sensible cotton panties. “Daddy seems like an odd thing to call a woman.”

Now both of his brows lifted, and she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for such a brat, Miss Sullivan. It’s unfortunate for you, I consider taming brats to be one of my finer talents.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” Resting a hand on the table between them, he lightly tapped a fingertip against the gleaming wood. “Would you like to know how you tame a brat?”

That wasn’t where she’d expected this to go, but she supposed she should play along. “Ah, sure.”

“You deny them what they want.” His head tilted to the side, and she sensed rather than saw those dark eyes studying her. “Right now, you are looking for a fight. A challenge. You want a reaction from me. Which you will get, eventually, but I can promise you won’t be eager to repeat the punishment I have planned for you. For now, you are going to tuck your hands under your thighs and you will not move or speak until I give you permission. Am I understood?”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I will march you into the kitchen, ask the chef for his largest section of ginger, which I will make you peel in front of the entire staff before I request the use of my cousin’s office to place said ginger in that naughty little bottom of yours. Where it will stay, hot and burning, as you eat every bite of your dinner. But not your dessert, because treats are for good girls, not naughty, defiant little brats.”

Shame heated her cheeks, nearly drowning out the need pumping through her. But not quite. Even though she had, without a doubt, been put very neatly in her place, her entire body was still thrumming with desire.

And even having been so thoroughly set-down, she still felt the urge to fight. To make him work for her acquiescence. But the idea of being humiliated in front of complete strangers held absolutely zero appeal.

“Fine.”

“Try that again. ‘Yes, Daddy’.”

“I’m not calling you that.” Even if the words made her want to press her thighs together for some kind of relief against the ache in her pussy.

“If you want dessert, you absolutely will.”

Dammit, how did he know that of all his threats, that was the one that hit home the hardest? Huffing out a breath, she glared at him and forced out the words. “Yes… D-daddy.”

Pride lit his eyes, and something inside of her leapt with joy. “Good girl. Now, hands under your thighs, eyes on me. Not another word until I say so.”

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