I move again, deliberately this time, pushing my hips back in a slow grind against him.
His grip tightens, giving me a soft bite that sends a fresh wave of heat through me. "Sloane."
It's a warning and I hear it clearly.
I do it again anyway.
The growl that rumbles through his chest makes my toes curl. His hand slides up to wrap around the column of mythroat—not squeezing hard enough to restrict airflow—firm and possessive. His palm is warm and rough against my neck, and I can feel my heartbeat fluttering wildly against his fingers.
"I think someone needs to learn what happens when she teases Daddy."
Every nerve ending in my body lights up.
This dynamic is what I've been waiting for, what I've been fantasizing about since the moment I saw him standing at the edge of my soccer field like some silver-haired god.
"Over my knee. Now."
I hesitate—not because I don't want to, but because I want to savor this moment…the delicious anticipation.
He raises one eyebrow. "Don't make me ask twice."
“Yes, sir,” I say, and get up, then drape myself across his lap quickly.
The position makes me feel vulnerable, and yet powerful. My bare ass is up, completely exposed to him, my weight supported by his strong thighs. His cock presses against my hip, and knowing how much he wants me while he's about to discipline me…
…is intoxicating.
His hand smooths over the curve of my ass, appreciating and exploring. He's making me wait. The anticipation builds with every pass of his palm, every brush of his calloused fingers against my skin.
"You've been teasing me all week with those letters," he says, his voice so low and wicked. "Driving me out of my mind. Do you have any idea what it was like? Reading those words and not knowing who wrote them? Wanting it to be you so badly I couldn't think straight?"
"I—" I start, but the first spank cuts me off, and I gasp.
It's sharp. Not brutal, but firm. The sound echoes through the cabin, followed immediately by the bloom of heat spreading across my left cheek.
"Count them for me, sweetheart."
"One," I manage, my voice already breathy.
The second lands on my right cheek. I jolt forward slightly, my fingers curling into the couch cushion beneath me.
"Two."
He rubs the sting away, his palm soothing, and it's somehow more overwhelming than the spanks themselves. The contrast between the harsh discipline and the gentle care is everything I've ever wanted.
"Good girl," he murmurs. "You're taking your punishment so well."
The praise slides over me like warm, gooey honey. I arch my back, ass taut, silently asking for more.
He obliges. “Such a pretty little ass that begs to be spanked.”
Three. Four. Five. Each one is perfectly placed, alternating cheeks, building a delicious burn that spreads through my entire lower body. He pauses between each one to rub and soothe, with a reward of praise.
"Six," I whimper, squirming on his lap.
"Mmm…" he says, his voice thick with arousal. "My baby is so wet and ready."
Seven. Eight.
