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“Sorry. Sorry.” She placed her hand against her chest as her heart threatened to leap out of her chest.

“No, I’m sorry. I should have thought...” He sighed. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ve got a bath ready for you. Let’s help you relax.”

She stood and walked towards him, taking his hand. “I don’t think I can relax.”

“We’ll see.”

She followed him up the stairs and into the main bathroom. He’d drawn her a bath filled with bubbles.

“This looks nice. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” he prompted.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said shyly.

He reached for her top to pull it off. She took a step back. “I can do that.”

“Nope, Daddy is taking care of you tonight. Completely.”

“Oh,” she said. “And that means I can’t undress myself?”

“Nope,” he replied. He pulled off her clothing, throwing it into the corner of the room.

“You shouldn’t throw clothes like that,” she scolded.

“I’ll pick it up later, Miss Tidy Pants,” he teased her.

She knew he was trying to lighten her spirits and granted him a small smile.

“Well, it was tiny but I’ll take it,” he said.

Once she was naked, he grasped her around the hips and lifted her into the bath. He’d taken the butt plug out as soon as they’d gotten home, much to her embarrassment.

“Oh, this feels so good,” she said as she sat. The warmth of the water soothed her tight muscles.

“I thought my girl would enjoy a bath. You just lie back and let Daddy wash you.”

He grabbed a cloth and soaping it up, began washing her arms and shoulders. He moved down to her breasts, running the cloth across each nipple making them harden. A tremble rocked her, but he didn’t linger, moving down her stomach then down to each foot.

When he rubbed the cloth over the bottom of her feet, she giggled.

“My girl is ticklish,” he commented, doing it again.

“Stop, Daddy,” she laughed.

“That’s better,” he said with a smile. “I don’t like seeing you stressed and upset.”

“I don’t like it either.” He placed the cloth higher up her thighs and she took in a sharp breath as he washed her pussy, running the cloth between her folds and against her clit. “Oh.”

“Does my girl need an orgasm?” he asked in a husky voice.

“Maybe,” she muttered.

“Just maybe?” He drew his hand back. She grabbed for his wrist, holding it there.

“No, definitely.”

“Thought that might be the case. Just lean your head back and rest.” He ran his finger around her clit slowly as his other hand plucked at her nipple.