Chapter Two
Alex rushed for the bathroom, yanking off her green slippers and pointy hat, flinging them in the corner as she attempted her retreat.
“Stop right there, little girl.” Connor’s voice froze her in mid-stride.
“I really have to take a shower, Con. I think some kid put his bubble gum in my hair.”
His low chuckle made her belly flip flop.
“Yeah, I was going to mention that to you. But the shower can wait. We need to talk, my sweet, little elf.”
She turned back and watched Connor sit on the edge of the bed. Their bed, where they had done the most amazing things. How many times had he spanked her bare bottom and called her a naughty little girl while she shrieked and begged him to stop? Yeah, that was all part of their game. Their little game. Where the only word that ceased their action was candy cane. He would spank her hard and say such deliciously naughty things to her. And then there was the sex. Could it be called just sex though? It was so much more. Sex with Connor was like an adventure, a roller coaster and bungee jumping all in one event. Hedonism, wicked pleasure, delightful pain, his unyielding grip as he pounded into her so hard the bed shook.
Last week, Connor had taken her in the shower. Sudsing her with body wash, then spanking her while her yelps and cries echoed through the bathroom. And the things that man could do with a loofa...
“Come here, baby girl.” Connor held out his hand. “Daddy is going to help you open up a bit.”
“No.”
He stood and reached for his belt. “Uh oh. You know what happens when little girls disobey their daddies.” He slid the leather through the loops, and her tummy clenched in anticipation. “You have two seconds to get over here. After that, I paint your butt redder than Rudolph’s nose.”
Her legs shook, her pussy quivered, and her panties dampened. God she wanted this so badly. For him to take command for a little while and make her feel... Anything. Anything except the agony inside her heart. But after the pain subsided, and the redness faded, she would be right back where she was now. Exhausted, sad, lonely. It was bad enough she missed her father more every Christmas. But losing her mom’s wedding ring last month? That had been the final straw. She couldn't muster the strength to pretend to be happy. Not when she was missing the two people who should have been celebrating the holidays with her. And she definitely couldn't get married without her mother’s ring.
“One, two.” Connor surged forward and grabbed her, flinging her over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” she shrieked and pounded on his back.
The hard smack echoed through the room. Her bottom clenched and her pussy shuddered when he gave her another round of five smacks before sitting down and pulling her across his lap. She squirmed with all her might, but Connor was stronger.
She wanted to let go. Let Daddy take over, spank her bottom until she cried. No, she didn’t usually cry. Not from the physical pain of his unyielding grip and firm hand. But maybe this time? Let him take her to a new level she had never been. Make her cry?
He yanked down her panties and spanked the area where her cheeks met her thighs. She howled and rejoiced at the same time. She raised her bottom in the air, meeting every crisp, firm slap. Practically begging for more. She needed more. Harder. Faster. She needed her daddy to make her cry.
Connor stopped and rubbed her warm bottom cheeks. “Come on, baby. Tell Daddy what’s going on.”
The building emotions disintegrated, and her mind woke back up. Alert. Prepared to fight. Definitely not ready to talk.
“Candy cane,” she whispered, out of breath, into his leg.
“What’d you say?” His hand stopped caressing her bottom.
“I said my safeword, Con. No play. Not now.” She spoke through clenched teeth, her eyes stinging as she held the tears back.
He quickly helped her to her feet and stood up stiffly. No, stiffly wasn't the right word. Connor wasn’t angry with her. She knew what angry Con looked like—his jaw straight, his eyes flashing, shoulders stiff. This Connor was confused as hell. Eyes wide, he kept glancing back and forth between her and the bed as if that would clarify her statement. He kept reaching his hands toward her as if unsure if he should even touch her. “Did I hurt you, Pip?” He looked wounded at the thought he might have hurt her, and that brought even more to the sting in her heart.
“No. I just... I can't do this right now. I don’t want this.” She shrugged and looked at the bathroom door, a million steps away. Her salvation was so far.
“Okay.” Connor opened his mouth again, then closed it, before taking a deep breath and running his hand through his hair.
She loved that he was wearing it shaggy again. The curls on the ends beckoned her to reach forward and run her fingers through them.
“I’m going to take a shower. I’m tired.” So much more than tired. But she was too exhausted to even explain that. She just needed to escape for a few minutes. Regroup. Attack this situation head on when she got out.
Connor nodded and watched her as she trudged into their bathroom.
She closed the door, turned the water to the hottest it could go, took off her tank top and socks and climbed in the stall.
The tears fell, scalding her cheeks so much more than the hot water. Guess he’d made her cry after all. Too bad it didn't make things better.
After she’d soaped her body five times, rinsed, washed her hair twice and rinsed under the now frigid water, she wrapped the towel around herself and tiptoed into the bedroom.
Connor wasn't there. The soft sounds of the TV came from the living room.
She could call out to him, or even better, go out, place herself over his lap. Maybe try again. Or maybe cuddle against his side on the couch and tell him how sad she really was. That it wasn't him. It was her. It was the holidays. It was that damn ring.
She lay on the bed and burrowed under the blankets. Her head felt so heavy.
Yeah, they could talk tomorrow. Tomorrow sounded good.