Page 23 of My Big Fat Daddy Issues

“Or what?” she whispers, not because she doubts me. She needs to hear it again.

“Or I teach.”

The room narrows to the place my hand finds her wrist. The sparks in the air intensify, and my cock pulses with want. This girl who has never wanted structure or discipline is finally letting it happen to her.

“Turn,” I grunt as I release my hold on her. I take half a step back, looking down at her. She sucks in a ragged breath. “Hands on the counter.”

Her lips part, but no sound comes out. I see her process my request, then I see her understand it. She turns slowly, splaying her hands on the surface in front of her. There’s a tremor in her legs that’s a mix of fear and anticipation but all I picture is raw dogging her bent over until she passes out.

“I need you to know why I’m doing this,” I tell her, my mouth close to her ear. I rub my palm over the curve of her ass, letting her know exactly what’s coming for her “Not because I’m angry. Because you need it.”

Her nod is small, almost imperceptible. Then, she says, “I—yes.”

I press against the small of her back, forcing her to arch her bottom toward me. With the tip of my toe, I urge her feet apart. Then, I grab onto the meat of her ass, pulling a gasp from her lungs. My cock spasms as she trembles.

“Count for me,” I command, taking my hand away and positioning myself to strike. “You start with one, then keep going until I stop. Now, say ‘one’.”

She inhales. Her hands clench, nails dragging across the granite countertop. I flex my fingers, waiting for her to start.

“One,” she says, unable to keep the single word steady.

That tremor in her voice spurs me on. I bring my hand down against her ass, sharp and fast. The sound fills the kitchen.

The sound she makes after isn’t pain, not really. That’s mixed in, but pleasure undercuts it. She doesn’t shy away, presenting herself to me again. Then, after taking a measured breath, she speaks again.

“Two.”

I give Hallie the correction she’s looking for. My palm comes down again, and she jumps. This time, it comes down a little harder because she’s paying the price for making me want to fuck her so bad I can barely see straight.

When she says, “Three,” still defiant but softening, and things inside me start to re-arrange themselves.

Yeah, I want to fuck her. Yeah, it’s wrong, she’s my daughter in many ways but she’s put me in this situation by just fucking breathing. By being the definition of barely legal and a fucking tease with a capital ‘T’.

Her breath hitches as my palm meets that ivory flesh again leaving my hand print behind. She shakes, her thighs pressingtogether desperately. Still, she holds herself as though she’s challenging me. I can’t have that. I’ll break her, just enough.

Then I’ll build her back up again.

Between the fourth and fifth strike, she whimpers. There’s a pause as she tries to collect herself. And, just before I prompt her to speak again, she says, “Six,” in a smaller voice.

I smirk. It won’t take long until she’s right where I need her. So, this time, I smack just below the swell of her ass and Jesus, it fucking jiggles like Jello and I can’t wait until I’ve trained her pussy to take my dick, then it will be her ass next. She yelps, falling forward as she sticks her bottom out further.

“More than halfway done,” I say, my voice raspy. “Keep going, little one.”

“Halfway?” She whimpers. The words make her whine. She’s getting closer to baring everything to me. When she says, “Seven,” I know we’re almost there.

I give her another correction, and her breath catches on a sob. When she counts to “eight” and “nine,” her entire body starts to convulse.

After the tenth strike, I know she’s where I need her to be. I rest my palm flat on her spine. My voice ragged, I say, “Breath, Hallie. Daddy is here.”

She does as I ask. She sucks in air, filling her lungs and emptying them quickly, then slowly. I rub over the places where she’s surely red and close to bruising.

“Good girl,” I say into the back of her neck. I’m careful to keep from pressing my erection into her, she’s not ready yet.

“I’m sorry,” she says to the counter, her voice cracking.

“For what?” I reply, forcing softness into my tone as I think about all the things I want to do to that bratty mouth of hers.

“For…for everything,” she says before swallowing harshly. “For needing it.”