Daddy's Way Read online

  His hand returned, gentle fingers running lightly over the welts. And then he squeezed each cheek in turn, pulling a scream from her with each flash of pain. Olivia let out a strangled sob, tears already streaming down her cheeks. His hand disappeared, and there was another soft swoosh, another line of hellfire.

  The caning continued without hesitation until twelve perfect lines had been laid across her ass. She could barely catch her breath through the waves of agony.

  “On your back.”

  A minute. I just need a minute. The plea echoed in her mind, urging her to snap her fingers, just once, just enough to let him know she needed a moment to breathe before he pushed her past what she could bear. But more than mercy, she needed this, needed him to push her as close to the edge as he could without actually breaking her. And because she trusted him to do exactly that, she rolled onto her back.

  “Spread your legs. As wide as you can. Hands above your head.”

  She positioned herself as requested, her pussy gushing at the sheer lust in his gaze. Daddy stepped away from the bed and returned a moment later with a familiar implement in his hand. The flogger wasn’t large, and the fingers were thin and light. This particular flogger had one purpose in their household. The knowledge of that purpose had her trembling again when he stepped back to the side of the bed.

  “Do not move, even an inch. Or I’ll take the plug out and fuck your ass until you’re begging me for mercy. Understood?”

  She nodded and braced for the first stroke. He flicked the flogger in circles, making a figure eight in the air. Once he had his rhythm, he lowered his arm so the ends of the fingers licked her inner thighs. Olivia whimpered, but didn’t move. He continued up and down her thighs, leaving little kisses of pain along her tender skin. When she’d been thoroughly welted, he changed direction slightly, and the flogger lashed her exposed pussy.

  She wanted to arch her back against the pain. Slam her thighs shut to stop the assault in its tracks. Roll off the bed and lock herself in the bathroom until the pain ebbed enough for her to continue.

  But the only thing that would gain her even an ounce of mercy at this point was a snap of her fingers. And as much as it burned, as much as her mind screamed at her to make it stop, she was nowhere near her breaking point. She could take more. She knew it, and what was more, her daddy knew it.

  He continued lashing her exposed lips, each burning stroke making her throb in response. And when she was standing there at the edge, her toes up against the line she couldn’t cross without breaking, he stopped. Her body shuddered with relief, but she soon realized it was short-lived. Daddy dropped the flogger and stepped away from the bed long enough to shed his clothes. When he returned, he climbed atop her, straddling her chest so she couldn’t move.

  His intent registered a split second before he fisted a hand in her hair and lifted her head from the pillow. Seconds later, his rock-hard cock pushed through the steel ring into her mouth. Panic immediately set in and she jerked her head back, but he held fast. She gagged, her throat closing around his cock, but he didn’t so much as pause his assault of her mouth.

  When he pulled out again, she dragged in a greedy breath. Saliva pooled around the gag and dripped down her chin. She lifted her eyes to his, and realized with a flash of tantalizing horror he wasn’t finished. As soon as the realization hit, his grip on her hair tightened and he pushed into her open mouth once more. She was better prepared this time, and she remembered to breathe through her nose as he fucked her mouth and her throat.

  By the time he was finished, her throat was raw and her jaw ached from the abuse of her mouth. She whimpered, pleading with her eyes for mercy. But she’d known going into this that he wouldn’t be merciful. Hell, she’d begged for exactly this.

  He abandoned his place on her chest to kneel between her spread thighs. He pierced her with a single thrust and her insides went molten, the orgasm rushing through her, taking them both by surprise.

  “Oh, my disobedient little girl. Are you allowed to come without Daddy’s permission?”

  Whimpering and whining, she shook her head. It was a long-standing rule, one she rarely broke, for she knew retribution would be swift and fierce.

  “Again. Apparently you need a reminder of who’s in charge, here.”

  Buried to the hilt inside of her, he brought his hand to her clit, his rough touch sending her flying a second time before she fully recovered from the first. He began to move inside of her, his cock stroking her overly sensitized nerves and his clever fingers still working her clit. Pleasure mixed with pain as he pushed her to the edge of sanity a third time.

  “Again, little one.”

  She shook her head, earning her a growl in response. “Come, Olivia. Now!”

  The sharp command sent her over again, waves of pleasure so acute they were actually painful crashing over her. Instinct overrode training, and she reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and tugging.

  “Naughty little girl. On your knees.”

  Pulling out of her, he gripped her and helped flip her over. She didn’t even have time to get into position before he lifted her hips and drove into her again. He fucked her, his hips slamming into her welted bottom, reigniting the pain from the thorough strapping and caning. Full. Between the plug and his cock, she was so full, a feeling she normally relished. But the forced orgasms had every nerve on fire when he drove into her. He moved a hand to her bottom and squeezed the tender flesh, pulling a long scream from her already raw throat.

  The hand on her ass moved to her hair, gripping tight and yanking her head back. “Daddy says when and if you come. And you never,” he gave her hair a short, sharp yank that sent pain shooting through her scalp, “ever try to push Daddy away. You are mine and I will do whatever I want with you. Isn’t that right, little one?”

  She nodded as well as she could with his hand still gripping her hair. “Good girl. Are you ready for Daddy’s cum?”

  Another strained nod. He held on, slamming into her sore, aching pussy until he exploded within her. When he was done, he collapsed on the bed beside her, his breathing heavy and erratic.

  “Come here, little one.”

  She gratefully crawled into his embrace, snuggling against him while their hearts pounded so loudly she could hear each beat and their breathing slowed to normal.

  “Such a good girl,” he crooned when they finally settled. “Would you like the gag off now?”

  She nodded and bent her head so he could access the buckle at the back of her head. He released the restraint and gently pulled the steel from her mouth. Her jaw ached, and her throat was raw. Her bottom was sore, as was her still throbbing pussy.

  But she felt the satisfaction of being well used and loved in every cell of her being. Eyes growing heavy, she snuggled into his chest. “Thank you, Daddy. I loved my celebration.”

  His chest rumbled with laughter beneath her cheek. “I’m glad, little one. Sleep now. I love you.”

  “Love you too.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  She woke the next morning positively ravenous. Other than James waking her briefly to remove her plug, she’d slept straight through the night. Sitting up in bed, she took stock of the twinges and aches making themselves known in her body. Her arms were a little sore from holding various positions for so long without moving. And her ass still burned, inside and out. Remembering the caning from the night before, she jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. She twisted her body to see her bottom in the mirror and grinned at the lines she could still see across her cheeks.

  Humming happily to herself, she washed her face and threw on one of James’s old T-shirts and a pair of yoga pants. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, the scent of bacon frying made her mouth water. She all but skipped to the kitchen, where James stood before the stove, clad in a pair of faded blue jeans and an old Notre Dame sweatshirt. Olivia walked up behind him and s
lipped her arms around his waist, her face pressed against his strong back. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

  “I didn’t even check my phone. What time is it?”

  “Almost ten.” The amusement was clear in his voice.

  “Holy crap, really?” She pulled her arms from around his waist to plant her fists on her hips. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so late!”

  “You’ve earned the right to sleep in on a Saturday.”

  “But you didn’t sleep in,” she pointed out sulkily.

  “Olivia Jane, are you arguing with me about letting you sleep?”

  She grinned at the exasperation in his tone. “Maybe a little.”

  “Well, maybe I should warm your bottom up a little. How about that?”

  “Nah, I’m good.” Laughing, she darted away when he lunged for her. She snagged a piece of bacon from a plate on the counter and ran to the living room. James liked to listen to the news in the mornings, but she wanted to watch something fun. But before she could grab the remote, the story on the screen had her rooted to the spot.

  “The body of Angela Winters was discovered this morning by the owners of a house she was in the process of selling. The police have ruled her death a homicide and are actively pursuing all leads. We will have more details for you as soon as they become available.”

  Fear slithered up her spine. Feeling as though she was watching someone else in her body, she made her way back to the kitchen. “Do you have a copy of the magazine?”

  Looking up from the stove, James frowned at her. “In my laptop bag, in my office. Why?”

  “I just need it.” With a sudden urgency, she ran down the short hall to his office and grabbed his bag. She pulled the magazine from the bag and frantically paged through it. The sound that escaped her when she found what she was looking for wasn’t entirely human.

  Two pages past her own story was Angela Winters, staring at her from the glossy pages of the magazine.

  “Olivia? What’s wrong?”

  “I met her.” The pages shook when she held the magazine up for him to view. “I met her when we all got together for our photo shoots. And now she’s dead. Somebody killed her, James.”

  “Oh, Livvy. Come here.”

  A sob bubbled up in her throat and burst out of her when his arms came around her. “Who would do this to her? She was so sweet.”

  “I don’t know, baby.”

  She wept into his chest, clinging to him while the grief poured out of her. “I don’t understand this,” she said with a soft sigh when she’d finally emptied herself out.

  “I’m not sure this is the kind of thing that can be understood, baby. Come back to the kitchen with me, I’ll finish making you some breakfast.”

  “Not hungry.”

  He pulled away enough to gently tilt her face up. There was no anger or condemnation on his face, only concern. “You didn’t eat any dinner last night, little one. You need to put something in your tummy.”

  It was so easy and simple to slide into her role. She could just be his little girl for a bit, before she had to deal with so many grownup emotions. “I want ice cream.”

  Despite his obvious amusement with her request, her daddy shook his head. “You can’t have ice cream for breakfast, Livvy. Daddy’s making you a nice breakfast. If you’re really good all day, you can have ice cream after dinner.”

  “‘Kay,” she said, with only a small pout. Ice cream was ice cream, even if she had to wait a few hours to get it.

  “That’s my good girl. Come with Daddy.”

  She let him lead her from the office back down the hall to the kitchen where he guided her to the little breakfast nook she loved so much. It didn’t take long for him to finish cooking, and he returned to the table with two plates, each carrying a huge waffle and a pile of bacon.

  “Waffles!” Wiggling her butt on the bench, she grinned up at him. “We haven’t had waffles in ages!”

  “I figured our celebration could carry over to this morning, and I know they’re your favorite.”

  Grief and guilt gripped her, twisting her heart and stomach inside out. While they’d been enjoying each other’s bodies and celebrating her accomplishments, someone had been murdering Angela. Did she even have a chance to celebrate? Have a drink with a friend or kiss her husband? Or had she gone straight to that house after work?

  Tears blurring her vision once again, Olivia poked at her waffle with her fork. “Thanks.”

  “Livvy, I know you’re sad, but you need to eat something.”

  She sighed, but did as she was told. After soaking the waffle with syrup, she cut off a small bite.

  “It’s good, Daddy.”

  His response was just to ruffle her hair and drape an arm around her shoulder while they ate. She finished half her waffle and a piece of bacon before she pushed the plate away.

  “Is that all you want, Livvy?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Okay. Why don’t you go up to your room and lie down for a bit. I’ll be up to check on you later.”

  She slid off the bench, then headed up the stairs to her pretty room with the green walls. But she couldn’t settle when she got there. Trying to take her daddy’s advice, she stretched out on the bed for a few minutes, but her mind just continued to race with unanswered questions. It didn’t take long for her to grow frustrated enough to roll off the bed.

  Hidden away in the drawers of her desk was a stash of paper and various drawing utensils. She pulled out some paper and colored pencils and settled in at the desk.

  Art had always been a passion of hers, and she funneled her grief and anger into her drawing. She was so focused on it, she didn’t notice Daddy’s presence in her room until he dropped a hand on her shoulder.

  “What are you drawing, little one?”

  “Just a picture,” she replied softly, her attention still zeroed in on her drawing.

  “May I see?”

  She covered the paper with her hands to hide it from his gaze. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, if you want to show me later, I’d really like to see it.” He ran a soothing hand over her hair. “How are you feeling?”

  Still not looking up at him, she shrugged and kicked her feet against the legs of the chair.

  “Baby.” Daddy crouched by her chair and reached up to turn her face toward him. “I know you’re upset. It’s okay to be sad or angry.”

  “I kind of feel both,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

  Stroking her cheek, he offered her a sad smile. “Yeah. Me too.”

  “You don’t think I’m silly for being so upset when I barely knew her?”

  “Never.” Conviction rang clear in his voice. “Your ability to feel so much is part of what I love about you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Absolutely. Do you want to keep drawing or do you want to come watch a movie with me?”

  The drawing was pulling at her, begging her to finish, a feeling she hadn’t had in ages. “Can I finish it and then come downstairs?”

  “Sure thing. I’m going to go get some work done, but you just come find me when you’re ready.”

  “Thanks.”

  He stood and pressed a kiss to the top of her hair before he left the room. When he was gone, Olivia lifted her hands from the picture and studied it.

  There was one emotion she hadn’t told her daddy about. And that emotion, more than any others, influenced her current artwork.

  Guilt.

  * * *

  James glanced back at the doorway to his office before he opened his computer. He’d hoped Livvy would follow him downstairs after all. If she didn’t come down in an hour, he promised himself, he’d check on her.

  Five minutes before his self-imposed deadline, she walked in. She barely made a sound, but he knew the instant she entered the room. When he looked up from his computer, she was standing in the doorway, holding a piece of paper.

  She looked so lost and
sad, exactly like a little girl trying to process emotions too big for her to really understand. Not that he blamed her—he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around what had happened, either. Was anyone ever big enough to really understand such tragedy?

  “All done?” he asked gently.

  She nodded, but didn’t move from her spot by the door. Without bothering to finish his email, James closed the lid of his laptop. His little girl needed him. Everything else could wait.

  Watching her carefully, he considered his options. Should he push her to show him the drawing? She hadn’t offered, and pushing her too hard could make her shut down. It had happened before. But if he didn’t ask, she might think he didn’t care about it anymore, and he wasn’t sure he could ever undo that level of damage. He had to at least offer, but he wouldn’t push the issue right now if she balked.

  “Can I see your drawing now?”

  It was always fascinating to watch her expressions. Outside of business dealings, she wore her heart on her face. If he paid attention, her big brown eyes would tell him everything he needed to know.

  Right now, she was uncertain and troubled. It reminded him of how she looked when she wanted to confess something naughty. It took several long seconds, but she eventually nodded and walked over to the desk.

  “You promise you won’t be mad?” she whispered.

  Whatever was on that paper, he was certain the last thing he would feel was anger. At least not toward her. “Cross my heart, little one.”

  She hesitated a moment longer, then finally handed him the paper.

  His stomach dropped. Livvy had always had talent in spades, though she hated the idea of making a living off her art. It was too stressful, she said, so she kept it for herself and their home. Several of her paintings lined the walls in various rooms of their house.

  But this was different. She’d gone for colored pencils, her favored medium when she was feeling particularly ‘little.’ That alone gave the drawing a younger, more innocent feeling. The art itself wasn’t as sophisticated as her usual work, either. The innocent, childlike nature of the drawing made the subject matter all the more jarring and heartbreaking.