Page 106 of Hunt Me, Daddy

I stalled for a moment. I knew what he wanted, but I didn’t want to say it. I also knew that my spanking would probably continue if I didn’t give him what he wanted and my bottom was already burning like I had sat down on a hot frying pan. I swallowedhard and opened my mouth two or three times before the words came out.

“I’m sorry… Daddy,” I finally whispered in a voice so low that it was hardly audible.

“Good girl,” he said.

My breath hitched.

Damn him.

Damn him for the words, for his firm hand, for the fact that some part of me had been waiting for this exact thing without ever admitting it.

“Now that we’ve reached an understanding, little girl, Daddy is going to finish the punishment you’ve earned.”

“Wait!”

He didn’t wait.

He just started spanking me again.

Much harder than before.

He didn’t stop for a long time, not until my eyes were hot and my backside was hotter, I was breathing hard and tears were streaming down my face, and I was one very,verysorry little girl.

Finally, he rested his palm against my left cheek.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I said again, this time with a pitiful sniffle as a tear trailed down my cheek. I tried not to think about that fact that calling him Daddy came much more easily this time.

“I know,solnyshko,” he said.

His hand moved down, just glancing against my inner thighs. I sucked in a breath.

“You took your spanking like such a good girl. Now, though, you’re going to come for Daddy.”

His fingers found the wet heat between my legs, and I made a sound that would have been deeply embarrassing in any other universe.

“Daddy—”

“Hush,” he said, and his voice had dropped with that specific firm quality that would make my knees unreliable for weeks.

His fingers moved, slowly at first.

I dug my fingers into the couch cushion and told myself very firmly that this was part of the punishment, or maybe it was a reward, and then I stopped telling myself anything because the pads of his fingers pressed exactly where they needed to and the argument fell apart completely.

He was thorough.

Very thorough.

So thorough that I was on the edge of orgasm in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

He didn’t let me come. Not right away. Ivan did nothing carelessly, and this was no exception. He read me with the same attention he brought to everything in his life. He paid attention to the small sounds I couldn’t stop making, the shift of my hips, the way my breathing broke apart when he found the right angle, and he adjusted without theater or self-congratulation. It wasjust the work of a man who had decided my pleasure was a thing he was going to get right every time.

“Please—please, please, Daddy,” I moaned, and I was going to be furious about using that word when his fingers were stroking my clit later, but right now, I just wanted more.

I wanted to come.

“Good girl,” he said softly. “Now let go and come for Daddy. Unless you need Daddy to take his belt to your cute little ass first.”

And that was it.