Page 107 of Merciless Daddy

She made a small, unhappy noise.

“I need to check you.”

“You already checked.”

“You can never be too careful.”

I turned on the lamp and inspected every mark.

Both cheeks had reddened evenly. Four brighter prints crossed the lower curves. No swelling beyond what I expected. No bruising. No raised edges. When I pressed gently near each mark, the color returned quickly.

“Any sharp pain?”

“No.”

“Numbness?”

“No.”

“Anything in your hips or lower back?”

“No, Daddy. I’m fine.”

“Good.”

I retrieved the lotion from the cabinet. It had been kept in the refrigerator, as I intended. When I smoothed the first cool line over her right cheek, she hissed.

“Cold.”

“Yes.”

“You could have warned me.”

“You’re right, I could have.”

“You’re cruel.”

I grinned. “So they tell me.”

I worked the lotion in with slow circles.

Her skin was hot under the cool cream. The contrast made her shiver. My hands moved over every place I had struck, not claiming, not punishing now. Repairing.

“You are not in trouble.”

“I know.”

“Look at me.”

She turned her head.

Her face was soft and flushed. No armor. No mockery. She looked younger only because exhaustion had stripped away the performance.

“You are not in trouble,” I repeated. “I’m not angry with you.”

“Were you angry before?”

“No.”