He circles my clit slowly, torturously. I'm already on edge from the spanking, and his touch is too much and not enough.
"Daddy, please—"
"No." He slides two fingers inside me, and I gasp. "You sit here and take it. Show me you can be good."
He works me methodically, fingers curling inside while his thumb plays with my clit. I'm shaking, right on the edge, trying so hard not to tip over.
"Look at you." His other hand grips my hair, makes me meet his eyes. "Desperate little thing. Want to come so bad, don't you?"
"Yes! Please, Daddy!"
"No." He pulls his hand away completely. I whimper at the loss. "Go shower. Early bedtime."
"It's only eight!"
"Should have thought of that before you broke my rules." He swats my bottom. "Shower. Pajamas. Bed. Now."
I shower on shaky legs, my body thrumming with need. When I climb into bed, Rex joins me. Still fully dressed, sitting on top of the covers while I'm under them.
"I'm not angry," he says softly, stroking my hair. "But you needed to understand. Rules matter. You matter."
"I just wanted to help."
"I know. But you're going to learn to help yourself first." He kisses my forehead. "Now sleep. Tomorrow, if you're good, you get your reward."
I fall asleep frustrated and aching, but somehow more settled than I've felt in days.
The next day, I'm perfect.
When the mail carrier asks if I can sign for a neighbor's package—I pause, think, then politely decline. When Dr. Mitchell's receptionist suggests I cover Friday evening—I text Rex first.
Me: They want me to cover Friday evening. Can I?
Rex: No. You work enough.
Me: Okay, Daddy. Thank you.
Rex: Good girl. Come straight home tonight.
Those two words make me glow all day.
I get home at exactly 5 PM, and Rex is waiting with that look that makes my knees weak.
"Good girl. So proud of you."
I melt. "Do I get my reward now?"
"After dinner." His smile is wicked. "Patience, baby."
Dinner is torture. He made my favorite, but I can barely eat. He watches me with knowing eyes.
Finally—finally—he leads me to the bedroom.
"Strip."
I obey with shaking hands. He strips too, and I finally get to see all of him—muscle and scars and raw masculine power.
"On the bed. Spread your legs."
