"Yes. I feel... lighter."
"That's how it should feel. Like you can breathe again." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."
He carries me to the bathroom and sets me on the counter. Then he grabs a cool washcloth and gently wipes my face.
"How's your bottom? Sore?"
"Yes. But not unbearable."
"Good. That's what we're going for. Enough that you remember it but not so much that you're actually hurt." He pullsout lotion from the cabinet. "I'm going to put some of this on. It'll help with the sting. Is that okay?"
"Yes, Daddy."
After Tyler applies the lotion to my tender skin and helps me into soft pajama pants and his t-shirt, he carries me to bed.
I expect him to tuck me in and hold me while I come down from the emotional intensity.
Instead, he lays me gently on my back and sits beside me, his hand stroking my hair.
"I just want to be good for you,” I say breaking the silence. “I’m trying.”
"You are good for me. So good." He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Perfect, even."
"I'm not perfect."
"You're perfect for me. And that's what matters."
Something shifts in the air between us. The emotional intensity of the discipline, the vulnerability of being corrected, the overwhelming relief of being forgiven, it all combines into something else.
Need.
"Daddy?" My voice comes out smaller than I intend.
"What do you need, baby girl?"
"You. I need you."
His eyes darken. "Chloe, you just had discipline. You're emotional. I don't want to take advantage?—"
"You're not. I'm asking. Please." I reach for him. "I need to feel close to you. I need to know we're okay."
"We are okay. More than okay."
"Then show me. Please, Daddy. Show me I'm forgiven. Show me I'm yours."
He groans, and I see the war in his expression. Want versus restraint.
"Are you sure? Really sure? Because once I start, I'm not going to be able to stop."
"I don't want you to stop. I want all of you." I sit up, wincing slightly at the tenderness. "Please."
"Fuck." He cups the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss that steals my breath.
It's not soft. Not gentle. It's claiming. Possessive. Desperate.
His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I melt into him, all my defenses completely gone.
When he breaks the kiss, we're both breathing hard.
