“I’m going to hurt you,” he answered simply, and her heart beat triple time in her chest at the breezy reply. “And then I’m going to make you come so hard you question your own existence.”
“You’ve already done both those things.”
His wicked laughter rippled over her skin. “No, babygirl. I haven’t even started yet.”
Rising up onto his knees, he reached for her wrists, tugging at the leather binding her hands together. And when he looked down at her, he was wearing that boyish grin she remembered from the bar, the one that had turned her knees to jello and made her grateful she was already sitting down when he flashed it at her.
“I think we can find some much more interesting uses for Daddy’s belt, don’t you?”
“I don’t know, using it to tie me up like that was pretty damn creative. Gonna be hard to top it.”
“Don’t you worry about that, babygirl. You just worry about keeping those thighs spread nice and wide for me.”
If Daisy Harrington had one vice, it was curiosity. “What happens if I don’t keep them open?”
Again with that need, that hunger burning in his gaze that spoke of how desperately he wanted to hurt her. “Then Daddy will have to punish you.”
Okay, yeah, she was definitely more fucked-up than she’d ever realized because that should not sound hot. Shouldn’t have her pussy spasming and her clit throbbing as her mind raced with possibilities about what his ‘punishment’ might entail.
Eyes locked on his, she lifted her hips up from the bed, rearranging herself so her thighs were spread as wide as she could manage, leaving every bit of her most vulnerable parts open to him.
Her heart thundered as she watched him take hold of the metal buckle, wrapping the leather around his fist until only a short tail remained free. And it hit her then, in a way it hadn’t before, that he was still fully dressed while she was completely, utterly naked but for her glasses. Seeing him there, in his ass-hugging jeans and black dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, he looked… dangerous.
And she fucking loved it.
“You can put your hands down now, babygirl.” His voice was soft, might have even been comforting except for the ripple of something dark and twisted beneath the words that sent a shiver racing up her spine. “But keep them by your side. Do not try to shield yourself. I don’t want to hurt those pretty hands.”
“Just the rest of me?”
It was meant to be a joke, something to lighten the mood. But there was nothing light or playful about the way his gaze raked over her naked flesh.
“Exactly.”
Oh, fuck.
Her heart slammed into her ribcage as he raised the belt. The world around her went silent, with no sound but her own blood roaring in her ears as she watched him whip the thin tail down over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
Pain, sharp and cutting, sliced through her and she arched up with a cry as her brain scrambled to process what had just happened.
He’d whipped her. With a belt.
And she’d liked it.
There was no denying either truth. Because despite the tears pricking her eyes, her clit throbbed with every beat of her heart.
Locking her gaze with his, she licked her suddenly too-dry lips. “Again.”
That darkness she’d sensed in him before filled his gaze, and fear skittered up her spine as he whipped her other thigh, drawing another pained cry from her lips.
“Again.”
Two more lines for each thigh, leaving her with three perfect welts on either side. Fascinated, she ran the tips of her fingers over the sore, raised flesh.
“Hands to your side, babygirl,” he reminded her in that surprisingly soft, and yet not-quite-comforting tone.
Her hand shook as she moved it to the side and raised her gaze once more to his. “Again?”
“Yes. But not your thighs this time.”
