The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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By the time he returns, Iβve worked myself up into nervous jitters. I smell sandalwood and can see from the redness of his jaw that heβs shaved again for me. For me. Heβs perfect and Iβm the idiot who hid the paddle while he was out of the room.
I hop off the bed, retrieve the paddle from its hiding place, take it to him and drop to the floor at his feet, kneeling, then pressing my forehead to the carpet in the full-submission pose Matthew taught me.
Loganβs silent for a moment. Then he squats over me and rubs his balls in my hair. Omigod, thatβs such a dominant move, and heβs barely touching me.
βWhat are you doing down there, little girl?β he asks, low and rough.
βIβm being very, very sorry, sir.β
βWhat are you sorry for?β
I turn my head to the side so I can breathe without inhaling the faint mustiness of his carpet, and say into his instep, βIβm scared of not doing things right, sir. I wanted to play hide-and-seek so I hid the paddle but then I thought you might be angry with me or think that I was trying to get out of my punishment, which Iβm not, I just wantedββ
βShh,β he soothes. He rocks a little over me, so his balls scrunch in my hair, and places his hands on my hips. βRelax, Emmy. Is this position comfortable? It doesnβt look it.β
βNot really,β I admit. My knees are grumbling. I should do more yoga. I stretch my arms out, then wrap my hands around his ankles, which Matthew wouldnβt have allowed. But Matthew wasnβt my Daddy. Not the way Loganβs become in less than forty-eight hours. Which is too soon and stupid and Iβll be terrified about it later when heβs not pinning me to the carpet with his balls.
βHold it for me until the song ends. Then Iβm going to let you up and youβre going to hide the paddle again while I cover my eyes. Weβll play βhotter, colderβ. Do you know that version of hide-and-seek?β
βYes, Daddy.β
βGood girl. Emmy, donβt be afraid of playing with Daddy.β
βEven during sexytimes?β I ask hesitantly.
βEven during sexytimes,β Logan confirms, and I feel the tension tightening my back melt away. I go jello-boned again. I could hold this position forever if thatβs what he wanted.
I turn my face into the carpet and whisper something I shouldnβt be feeling and canβt tell him but have to let out before my little bolts for the window, throws it open and screams it to the neighborhood.
βWhat was that, Emmy?β he asks, rocking back and forth, squashing his balls against my head. It must hurt, but he likes a little pain when heβs aroused, which is also different from my other Doms. I have to stop comparing him to them. Heβs different. Heβs unique. Heβs Logan and heβs my daddy.
I turn my head back, nuzzle into his instep and kiss it. βTa so very, very much, Daddy,β I say. Which is part of what I said, and I am feeling so very grateful to him.
βMmm, baby doll.β He kneads my hips and ass with his werewolf paws and I canβt help arching and lifting to his touch even though it really does make my knees wail. βI like that. Other foot.β
I turn my head the other way, which hurts my nose as I rub it through the carpet, but I donβt want to head-butt his balls. Then I inch my head over until my face is against his left foot and kiss his instep. He has runnerβs feet: gnarled toes and knobby joints and prominent veins. Maybe heβd like it if I rubbed his feet.
He holds me there, rocking slightly, scrunching his balls through my hair, the motion and sound hypnotic against the backdrop of Christina Aguileraβs crooning. My knees are howling by the end of the song and Iβm silently promising them that Iβll start yoga classes again the minute I return from the cruise.
Finally, he lifts off me and says, βIβm going to cover my eyes. You have a count of ten to hide the paddle. If I find it within a minute, thatβs another ten smacks. If it takes me longer than ten minutes to find it, Iβll take off a smack for every minute. Ready?β
I give his foot a final kiss and stretch before I say, βYes, Daddy.β
He covers his eyes with his hands and I bounce up on my toes to kiss the backs of his hands before I leap away, run around the room twice as he counts, then stick the paddle back where Iβd originally hidden it, smooth the sheet and hop up onto the bed as he finishes counting. I cross my legs and try to look nonchalant as he takes his hands away from his eyes.
He looks me up and down, looks toward the window and purses his mouth while I giggle, βColder, Daddy.β
He takes one big step to the edge of the bed, reaches down, grabs my ankles and flips me back onto the bed. He grabs the paddle out of its hiding place and slaps it across the backs of my thighs while he holds my ankles in the air.
βNo fair!β I screech. βDaddy cheated!β
He whips the paddle back in the other direction and I really do howl then. It stings like Iβve sat in a hornetβs nest.
βDaddy doesnβt cheat,β Logan growls, yanking my ankles higher. βNot ever. What do you say?β
βSorry, Daddy,β I whimper, stuffing my fists over my mouth. I didnβt mean to accuse him of cheating. I was just surprised he found the paddle so fast.
βThatβs ten extra then. Iβll take them like this. Count, Emily.β
His tone jolts me straight out of little-space. I try to lift my head to peer around my legs at him, but heβs holding my ankles so high I canβt see him. I need to see his face. Is he going to punish me when heβs really angry? Is he going to
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