Millionaire Daddy Read online

  Snarling, she started to undress, her fingers stiff as she attempted to unbutton her blouse. Almost vomiting on what had to be an expensive modern carpet, she started unzipping her skirt. With everything folded and placed neatly on a chair, she glared at the corner, the seemingly wide open space. If she was a good little girl, she’d move quickly, complying without question. But she didn’t, so she wasn’t. “Damn.” Oops. Add that one onto the list. Grousing wasn’t helping in the least. She almost thumped to the corner, imagining this would have been her attitude had she been disciplined as a child.

  This was entirely different. She was a grown woman seeking punishment. Her entire body was covered in goosebumps.

  She fisted her hands by her sides, keeping her nose as close to the wall as possible. Forgive me, Daddy, for I have sinned. The mantra ran through her mind over and over again until she couldn’t stop the giggles bursting from her mouth. She was going to get such a whippin’. As she stood, trying to convince herself that facing the music was in her best interest, she could feel a slight peace washing over her. Maybe confessing was good for the soul. Clamping her mouth shut, she relaxed her hands and hung her head, closing her eyes. She needed to learn control over her anger and frustrations, the stress that was eating her alive. She wanted to enjoy life, not frustrate over every aspect of her day, her job, her lack of boyfriends.

  Geez. Her daddy had a tall task ahead of him. She bit back a combination of a frightened whimper and a moan, terrified he would realize she was far too much of a handful. Restless, she moved from foot to foot several times before admonishing her reactions, finally standing straight and still. What would her friends say if they saw her now? What would her boss say? A bead of perspiration trickled down from her forehead. Nervous? Hell, yes. Turned on? Even more so.

  What had to be several minutes, if not a full hour later, she groaned. Where the hell was he? She stole a quick glance at her watch and hissed. He’d only been gone for twelve minutes. Twelve. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t going to be able to obey him. The second she turned around, convinced she’d made a mistake, Master Dominick entered the room. She held her breath, blinking back another round of tears.

  She hadn’t noticed his attire before, black pants and a crisp white shirt, his sleeves rolled up, revealing a gorgeous sun-kissed tan. In his hand was a black bag, what appeared to be a weighted duffle, and the expression on his face was one of disappointment. “Sir, I…”

  Master Dominick walked inside, his eyes never blinking. “I gave you a simple request. Very simple in fact and for some reason, you found it difficult to comply. Is there a problem? Were you called for an emergency?”

  “No, Sir.” There were various levels of embarrassment and for her, this was shooting well over a ten. She’d shoved her legs together, one knee cocking and shifting in front of the other, both arms dangling in front of her breasts, as if that was going to keep him from seeing them. She no longer had any saliva in her mouth. None. In fact, she was having difficulty breathing. Dying on his floor wasn’t going to bode well for either of them.

  “Come here, baby girl.”

  His instructions were laced with a stern dominance. She’d already disobeyed him. Her feet were so heavy as she attempted to move forward, her pulse skipping, mist in her eyes. “I’m really sorry, Sir. I am.”

  He kept the unyielding look as he set the bag onto the edge of his desk. “Come closer.”

  Jenna realized she was nibbling on her bottom lip as she followed his instructions, moving to within a foot of him.

  “Open the bag and remove the contents.”

  She gave Daddy a half smile as she reached out, fingering the bag before unzipping. When she reached her hand inside, she winced, another shiver sliding down her spine. Nestled inside were spanking implements. Lots of them.

  “Take them out,” he instructed.

  The first one her hand wrapped around was a simple wooden spoon. She gingerly placed it on the desk, blinking only twice. Not so bad. The second was a wooden brush and her mind immediately raced to Target or Walmart, standing in line with several brushes that would be kept and used in various places. The third was a paddle, ping pong in variety. She exhaled, trying to keep from shaking. The fourth was a leather strap of some kind, twelve inches long with a handle on the end. Shuddering, she darted a look in his direction. There were other items in the bag.

  “Yes, these are various implements that will be used depending on the severity of your infraction.” Master Dominick seemed so calm and collected, as if he did this for a living.

  She swished away a strand of hair out of her eyes before reaching in again. This time, her hand wrapped around a larger piece, but definitely wood. When she removed the oversized paddle, complete with holes drilled in the middle, she whimpered. “Whew.”

  “Continue.”

  The next was a simple belt, the leather scent reaching her nostrils. She did crave the belt, the very thing for a Daddy to use on a terrible little girl. Then there was a ruler, very hard and very thick. The final two pieces were much more heinous, floggers that she knew could bite into her skin. When she was certain the bag was empty, she took a step back, understanding that this bag had been put together for and with her in mind. Her punishment satchel, one that he could take anywhere. Now her knees were knocking.

  He moved behind her, placing both hands on her shoulders.

  She heard the slight skip in his breath sounds. Did he feel the electricity coursing between them? Did he understand how strong their connection was? She shivered from his touch, some of her embarrassment fading.

  “Today we begin. I will help you, teach you, and guide you. This will be good for both of us. Leave the strap on the desk and pack everything else.” He eased the handwritten note highlighting horrendous behaviors off the desk, studying what she’d written.

  His instructions were once again clear. She did as she was told without a second’s worth of hesitation, carefully placing the items in the bag. Her fingers slid across the strap and she had a brand new round of goosebumps popping along almost every inch of her naked skin. She half expected that he would laugh at what she’d written, but he didn’t utter a sound, nor did he react.

  After folding the note and placing into his pocket, he gripped the handle, easing the duffle to the floor then inched around her, sitting on the edge of his high-back leather chair. “Come here, baby girl. We will start with over my lap.”

  Jenna was reduced to a naughty girl as she padded toward him. He took her hands into his, caressing as he spoke, the words quite comforting given her state of undress. “I know you’re having difficulty with stress and that’s what we’re going to work on today. The rest we will handle at a later time. However, please don’t give anyone the finger while you’re driving.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “This is going to hurt. Every time I spank you, the session will be painful, some more than others. This isn’t playtime. Do you understand?” His question was direct.

  “Yes, Sir. That’s what I want, Sir.” She knew that she did, had finally accepted that she could thrive with a man’s firm hand and harsh discipline. Then why was there a lump remaining in her throat?

  “Then we begin.” Master Dominick pulled her over his lap, placing his hand on the small of her back. “Palms on the floor. Hold your position and this is merely a warmup. Thirty with my hand.”

  Thirty. Thirty. Thirty! Oh, my God. She was shivering all over, her head pounding. This was going to make her sick. She had to be crazy. Clamping her eyes shut, she placed both hands on the floor. There would be no adequate way of describing how humiliating being naked over a man’s lap could be. They weren’t lovers. They weren’t even friends, which is what made this even more sinful in her mind.

  The first smack across her ass was like lighting a fire under her. “Oh!” Jerking up, she flailed her arm back in a reactionary mode, whimpering and not from any pain being inflicted.

  He sighed and gripped her wrist, pulling it
back into position. “I think we begin again. I’m not going to tolerate you disobeying during a punishment session. Take a deep breath and collect yourself, young lady, or we will select yet another implement to be used.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Dear God, was she actually sniveling? This was ridiculous. Oh, no. She took three deep breaths then mentally glued her fingers to the floor. Be a good girl. Be a damn good girl.

  He smacked first one cheek then the other, his hand perfectly positioned in the middle of her ass cheeks.

  “Ouch!” She quickly snapped her mouth closed, trying to breathe through her nose. He repeated the move, just two, as if allowing her to get used to the feeling. Letting out a long breath, she willed herself to behave.

  “You’re doing very well, baby girl.” Master Dominick began to spank her in earnest, moving from one cheek to the other, peppering her naked skin.

  “Oh!” Jenna wiggled as the pain level increased and kicked out her legs. She could hear her daddy’s heavy exhale, obviously displeased.

  “Young lady!” Shifting, he managed to throw his leg over hers and rubbed her back before beginning again; this time the slaps were much harder, much faster, and with total purpose.

  She was panting, whimpering softly when he stopped, taking a full minute to rub her back and her ass cheeks. As he helped her off his lap, easing the strands of damp hair from her face, she bit the inside of her cheek.

  “This will get easier, but you need to learn self-control.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He shook his head. “Go lean over the desk, spread your legs, arms out in front of you.”

  Before she walked away, she could see a change in his eyes, his pupils unfocused, a single bead of sweat on his upper lip. She swallowed and nodded respectfully before walking away, but she knew. She’d felt it. There was desire. Pushing the sinful thought away, she walked around the edge of his desk. The heat in her ass cheeks was pronounced, her skin tingling, and she longed to rub her bottom but knew the action was forbidden.

  As she leaned over the desk, eyeing the strap, she bit back a whimper.

  Master Dominick pulled the strap into his hand, taking a position behind her. “Thirty with the strap. You will stay in position.”

  His voice was husky, more dominating than before.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The whooshing sound was more powerful than the actual strike against her skin. She concentrated on the noise as he brought the strap across her buttocks, biting back a cry. She wanted to be his good girl, his perfect baby girl. Even the way he snapped his wrist, the leather coming down exactly over her sit spot was chilling, forcing her to perspire. She didn’t want to cry and certainly had no intention of seeming weak, but as the spanking continued, one smack after another, she was losing control.

  Jerking up, she panted, her hands clawing the wood. “Please. I’m sorry, Sir. I’m…”

  He stopped, immediately rubbing her back. “You’re doing well. Only ten more.”

  “I just…” Sniffing, she willed her mind to reel her emotions back deep inside, hiding the fact she was so frightened. “Yes, Sir.” She eased back over the desk, placing her face on the surface. Even the coolness of the wood wasn’t enough to stop the tears.

  As the session began again, she began the countdown, concentrating on saying the words in her mind versus the agony and humiliation. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

  When her first punishment was over, she tried to figure out the right words to say. The experience had been so intimate, so freeing, yet there was no playbook to go off of, no rules of engagement regarding working with a disciplinarian. The trouble was, she’d experienced an entirely different level of sensations coursing through her body than she should have been allowed.

  Raging desire, the kind that left her wet and hot, her pussy clenching.

  After going blank, she did the only thing that came to her mind.

  She gathered her clothes and fled.

  Chapter Five

  Four days had passed since their last session. While she’d certainly texted him as required, obeying his various instructions, she hadn’t gone out of her way to ask about setting up an appointment. She also hadn’t been on SubmissiveLife. Granted, Dominick wasn’t necessarily surprised, given the way she’d raced out of his house, her face as red as her blistered ass. He tapped his finger on his office desk, turning the chair in order to gaze out the window.

  What a fucking asshole he’d been. There was no way she couldn’t have noticed the bulge between his legs. Being attracted to her was one thing but being unable to hide his desire was entirely another. He was a man of discipline himself. Perhaps he’d made a huge mistake in agreeing to the arrangement. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since meeting with her.

  The first time.

  She was absolutely gorgeous, in an unassuming way, almost bashful in the way she handled herself. And he adored the nervous tics, the way she chewed on her bottom lip or wound her fingers around strands of her long hair. Even the way she put her toes together, almost like the way a young girl would stand was endearing. And her smile. God, her smile was beautiful.

  Yep. He was a goner, hooked on a girl that he had no business being with. Hmmm… And why was that exactly? Because she was younger? Oh, that was bullshit. Because she was barely making ends meet? As if he cared.

  Then what? She was the real deal. Kind. Open. Honest. Everything he’d never experienced.

  There was absolutely no reason he couldn’t take this a little farther. He didn’t want to spook her, but he did want more. Admitting it created a wave of heat behind his way too thick jacket and shirt, a bulge ready to burst from his pants. “Fuck.” He slid his hand over his crotch, trying his best to alleviate his discomfort. Instead, he spread his legs, stroking up and down as he envisioned her face, her eyes every time she pulled an implement from the bag. She was so refreshing.

  He missed their frank discussions even more than the physical interaction. The hours spent just talking had been special. Now that he was her daddy dom, she’d fallen into the role completely, maybe too much so. He hadn’t expected they would stop talking. His mind raced with various possibilities.

  He’d issued two additional rules, that she wasn’t to come without his permission and that she was required to spend at least five minutes a day in a quiet corner in her apartment, reflecting on what she’d learned so far. There’d been no feedback of any kind. Had he pushed her too far?

  Closing his eyes, images of her naked body rushed into his mind, playing one after the other, so vivid in color and detail that he was left breathless. He wanted this girl in the worst of ways. What in the hell was he going to do and how could he show her? She needed to make the next move, to contact him for another session. Struggling to calm his raging libido, he grabbed his phone, almost praying that she’d left another text. She hadn’t.

  He jerked up from his desk, pacing the floor. This was getting ridiculous. He should simply call her, ask her out to dinner. No, that would break what limited level of trust they’d managed to glean together on a wing and a prayer. Everything had to occur naturally, in an easy manner, with her making the first move. He snorted at the thought. Would she actually accept him in any other manner?

  Wait. This was not what either of them had signed up for. He was living in a fantasy world and needed to shake the idea. He would discipline her on a regular basis, punish her as necessary, and move on with his life. Period.

  When his office phone rang, he physically jumped, rolling his eyes at the realization he’d been daydreaming for far too long. He still had business to tend to, work to be done. He grabbed the phone on the first ring. “Asbury.”

  “Dominick. Sorry to bother you, but you’re needed in the conference room. We have an issue.” Hearing the concern in Fred’s voice, he frowned. The latest contract was a ballbuster and although Fred was supposed to be working on the final details, he’d known the sellers were none too keen the land was being
sold for another commercial building, instead of a home site as had been originally proposed. No negotiations. “I’ll be right there.”

  He grabbed his cell phone and headed out of his office, taking long strides toward the conference room. He was going to remain steady on the deal that had been agreed to, accepting nothing less. Bullshit and changes at this point he refused to accept. The conference room door was open, and he could hear the ongoing discussion. Very terse.

  Fred flanked his side, pulling him further down the hall. “Look, Mr. Waters is seriously trying to back out unless we agree to at least building townhomes within the project. I figured you’d want to handle this.”

  “You were right to call me in. Is he willing to negotiate in any other manner?” Dominick asked, homing in on a few terse words.

  “Not at this point. Waters seems to think he has the upper hand since he knows the building commissioner.” Fred shook his head. “Bull-headed guy.”

  “You mean he’s a bastard. Don’t worry. I know how to handle him.” Dominick plastered on his practiced smile as he walked into the room, remaining in the doorway. He listened as the various parties continued to talk over each other, his attorney included. Troy was a shark in expensive clothing, but the man seemed unraveled today. Granted, Brice Waters was no pushover, considered one of the most formidable men to do business with in the city. “Gentlemen. I suggest we get down to brass tacks.” He knew his powerful and authoritative voice would shut down the room.

  And it did.

  “Okay, what is the concern?” Dominick asked, honestly not giving a shit as to Mr. Waters’ position, but he allowed the man to speak, followed by certain basic threats by the man’s attorney then cutting words issued by Troy. He held up his hands. “There will be no townhouses. Period.”

  His phone buzzed, a text coming in. Dominick immediately froze, resisting the urge to yank the phone from his pocket.

  Mr. Waters stood. “Then there is no deal. I haven’t signed the contract and there will be no business together without your reconsideration.” He had a look of knowing on his face. “I’ll simply go to your competitor. Or, you can agree to my terms and I’ll throw in another piece of property on the riverbank, allowing you to build that second condominium you’ve been pining away for.”