“Wait is not your safe word.” Her stomach had given up on gymnastics and joined the traveling circus.
She had to think. She had to speak. First, she had to breathe.
You’ve only wanted this forever.
That was true. She’d always wanted a strong Daddy to pull her over his knee and hold her there while he made her a very sorry girl for whatever she’d done wrong. Someone who wouldn’t let her up until she was a sobbing mess, vowing never to do it again.
What hurt the most, what broke her heart, was that she could have that with Trace if only she could stay without putting him and everyone he loved in danger.
If she ever managed to free herself from Reynaldo Rios, shewould return to Wild River Ranch and beg him to be her Daddy. She hoped if that happened, or when it did, he would agree.
If anyone could stop the man after her, it would be Trace. He was so strong, so handsome, so happy and confident in himself. But she couldn’t risk it.
So even though she wanted to feel what being spanked by him was like…wanted to know what it felt like to yield to him in every other way, too… she had to walk away.
Trace cleared his throat, patting his thigh and quirking a brow.
This was just a sample, nothing permanent. That’s what Kip told herself as she lowered herself over his thighs. She couldn’t dampen the excitement, though. She was finally going to get to experience discipline from a Daddy. No,herDaddy, at least until tomorrow.
That was if she didn’t pass out first. She still needed to breathe. Luckily, her Daddy took care of that when he slid his fingers under the top of her pajamas and tucked them under the waistband of her bottoms. Without hesitation, those calloused, confident fingers pulled her bottoms down to her ankles.
When he’d told her the consequence of her not putting herself over his knee earlier was losing her panties, she forgot to mention she wasn’t wearing any. Who wore panties to bed under their pajamas?
She didn’t have time to think about that. It wasn’t an issue since the pajama top fell halfway down her thighs. Her lady bits clenched, and the skin of her bottom tingled as if someone had attached a live wire to it.
This was what she had been looking forward to, what she longed for. She tried to guess what her Daddy would do next.
"Listen to me, naughty girl."
Kip stilled, trying to silence the voices in her head.
"Since this is just a sample, I’m only giving you five swats.”
What? Only five? How was she supposed to experience theevent of her dreams if he only gave her five? Not to mention, she’d hoped to rid herself of the terrible guilt she felt for putting everyone in danger in the first place. If anything happened to one of them because of her, she’d never forgive herself.
You’re just being greedy.
She tried to convince herself not to feel disappointed, but it was difficult. Would she even feel it at all? Probably not. Not the way she needed, anyway. It took her a second to realize he was still talking.
…when I’m done.
Wait. When he was done with what? Was he doing something, or was it something she was supposed to finish? Darn it!
“Then after we’re finished, we’ll go back to the room and talk. Do you understand?”
No, because she’d been trying not to plan revenge for him only giving her five swats. Still, she thought it was wiser to nod, so that’s what she did.
“Good.”
She was too nervous to think after he finished. She shouldn’t be. It was only five spanks. Grr. It did feel a bit awkward to be draped over his thighs like this. Was she doing it right?
She squealed when he shifted her and moved his right leg, nudging her forward to teeter over his left leg. Before she could fall face-first, he pressed his right leg down on top of her left, locking her in place. It seemed like a lot of trouble for just five swats.
A gentle breeze of cool air brushed against the back of her legs. Thank goodness Joy was so tall. Her private parts stayed covered. That was until those calloused fingers lifted the hem of her top to her waist.
He just uncovered her unmentionable private places.
Count her private places as thoroughly mentioned.
