Nick

I’m more tired than I can remember. Amusing though it is, I should be far too sensible to indulge in a crazy weekend of fucking on such little sleep. Still, I feel sated. Thoroughly sated.

I feel blessed. Calm.

Loved.

A tap on my door, and my bright-eyed assistant steps in. She looks considerably fresher than I feel.

“Morning, Penny,” I offer, and my tiredness fades into the background as I notice the box in her hands.

“Morning, Mr Lynch.” Her smile is nervous. “I picked out that gift you wanted. Charged it to your expenses account on the weekend. I hope that’s okay,” she dithers in front of my desk, so unsure. “It was expensive…”

I wave her concerns aside. “That’s great, Penny. Thank you.”

She sighs, pretends to wipe her brow. And then she hands it over.

The box is black leather with fine embossed lettering. It opens so smoothly in my hands.

Penny stares at me as I stare at the gift she’s chosen. It’s beautiful. A perfect heart, so tasteful in its simplicity, twinkling with a delicate pink stone as an accent.

“It’s platinum,” she says. “And that’s a real diamond…”

“An excellent choice.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

I close the box, and meet her smile. “Thank you, Penny.”

She hovers, and I stay quiet as she plucks up whatever courage she’s summoning. “Will she like it?”

“I hope so,” I say.

“She’s a lucky girl.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate such a beautiful gift.” I wait for it, interested to see how bold she is with her questioning.

She keeps her eyes on the box. “Will she wear it to the Christmas party?”

The Christmas party.

I’ve barely given it a thought. It’s been merely a duty up until now. My attendance a necessary annoyance as senior partner of the practice.

I imagine Laine on my arm this year, and the prospect is considerably more appealing.

“I would think so, Penny.”

Her eyes are so warm. “That’s great. What’s her name?”

“Laine,” I say.

“Laine,” she repeats. “I look forward to meeting her.”

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy meeting you, too.”

She makes to leave, but I call her back. “One more thing, Penny, if you will.”

“Of course.”

I open the gallery app on my phone and ping a copy of the butterfly picture to her inbox as she waits. “I’ve emailed you an image. I’d like it printed, please, a frame, too. I know you’ll find something just perfect.”

“I’ll do my best, Mr Lynch.”

I’m sure she will.

My phone tells me it’s almost lunchtime as I drop it back onto my desk.

I’ve just time to finish up my current report before it’s time to call Laine.

* * *

Laine

Kelly Anne doesn’t bother speaking as we sit in the canteen. She knows the routine by now, knows he’ll be calling me any minute.

I dig in my bag for my phone, just like always. I like to be prepared for when his call comes in.

Only my phone isn’t in my bag this morning.

I root around, as though searching all the harder will make it materialise out of thin air.

Kelly Anne sighs as she watches. “Left your fancy phone at home, did you? Daddy Nick’s gonna be pissed you’re not at his beck and call.”

She has no idea.

I feel like such an ass for sleeping in and rushing so fast to make it up to him. I can imagine exactly where my phone is, still plugged in at the side of the bed, probably still chirping out the alarm that I snoozed ten times this morning. Shit.

I feel myself pale, my mouth dry as paper.

“Chill, Laine, it’s just a phone. No big deal.”

But it is a big deal. He always calls at one on the dot. He likes to get hold of me, to check I’m okay.

“He always calls…” I begin, like she has a hope of hell of understanding.

“So?”

“So, he always calls. It’s important.”

She tuts at me. “So important. I’m sure he can wait a few hours for a status update on how yummy your sandwich was.”

I wish I could explain, but there’s no way I will. I wish I could tell her how worried he’ll be, how much tragedy he’s been through. I wish I could tell her that keeping me safe is everything to Daddy Nick.

I try to figure a way to get hold of him, but the idea of calling him at the office practically brings on a panic attack. What would I even say? And would he be angry?

More angry than he’ll be at me for forgetting my phone?

I probably already made him late this morning, and now this. I feel like such an idiot.

Maybe he’ll punish me.

The thought is right there, and so is the guilty flutter between my legs.

I shouldn’t want that. Definitely shouldn’t want him to be mad with me. Disappointed in me.

I wonder if he’ll use the belt his father used on him. I wonder how much it’ll hurt.

Maybe he won’t.

Maybe he’ll brush it off and tell me to be more careful next time.

I doubt it. And I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing.

“Chill, Laine, you look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.” Kelly Anne sighs and takes a swig of her drink.

The nerves are dancing in my tummy, and the tickles tickle between my legs. I feel sick, hot and cold and tingly all at once.

“I shouldn’t have forgotten my phone,” I say.

But Kelly Anne doesn’t care at all.

* * *

Nick

I call again. And again after that.

I stare at my phone screen and breathe through the irrational nerves.

Maybe she’s been held up in class. Maybe she’s in a noisy canteen.

It happens.

I’m fooling myself. It’s part of the rules, our lunchtime phone call. She always answers on the second ring. Like clockwork.

Only not today.

I consider my options, contemplating calling the college reception and leaving a message for her, but what would be the point?

I’ll look like a stalker for the sake of easing my paranoia, that or alarm her unnecessarily.

I force myself to get a grip, to reflect on the morning and weigh up the situation rationally.

She was tired and rushed, barely awake when I dropped her off at college. There’s almost certainly an entirely innocent explanation.

Almost certainly.

If there is then I shall punish her for breaking the rules so carelessly, and if there isn’t…

I daren’t even give that a thought.

I struggle through my afternoon appointments, endeavouring to give my clients my professional attention with my nerves wound tight in my chest.

I try Laine’s phone again during a lull in meetings. It rings through to voicemail just as Michael French steps into my room. He’s my joint senior partner, as much of a friend as I’d class anyone, not that the bar’s particularly high.

His smile tells me he’s heard the news. I wouldn’t have imagined anything less, not now I’ve given Penny gossip-worthy detail. I didn’t expect the news would stay a secret, and I’m sure Penny didn’t consider it confidential information, not now I’m officially bringing my partner to the Christmas party.

“Tell me about Laine with the pink diamond,” Mike says and holds out his hand across the desk. “Congratulations on the couple status.”

I shake it warmly. “Word travels fast…”

“Secretaries talk.” He tips his head. “She must be quite a woman to snare a stoic old dog like you.”

“Enough of the old.” I laugh a professional laugh, even though it feels like rusty iron in my throat.

“So,” he prompts. “What’s she like? You kept that one close to your chest.”

I cast another glance at my phone before I answer. No messages. “She’s sweet and kind. Gracious. Beautiful.”

“Blonde?”

I smile. “Blonde, yes.”

“Nice legs?”

I meet his stare. “Nice smile. A nice heart. The legs are merely a bonus, Mike.”

“So she does have nice legs…” He laughs to himself. “Can’t wait to meet her. I’m sure Barbara will love getting to know her.”

Barbara French celebrated her fiftieth birthday last summer. She’s a wildfire, a sharp cracker with a sharp tongue and absolutely nothing in common with little Laine.

Mike’s digging and I know it. I make him wait, pretending to check out a fresh email.

I use the moment to contemplate whether I’m ready for this, but it doesn’t take all that long to consider.

I’m ready for everything Laine brings to my life, including any awkward questions.

I take a breath. “She’s eighteen, Mike.” I hold his stare without flinching.

He doesn’t flinch either. “A sweet young thing, I’m sure.”

“Very.”

“Then I’m happy for you.” His smile is genuine enough. “We should go out one night, celebrate with some champagne. Introduce young Laine to our office family.”

“She’ll be coming to the Christmas party,” I tell him, like he hasn’t already heard.

“Excellent. I’ll be bringing Caroline, she’s back from university and no doubt she’ll be bored enough to come along. I’m sure they’ll get on fantastically. Maybe they could spend some time together. Caroline gets lonely without her uni pals. You know how it is when you’re that age.”

I’m not sure I remember, but smile regardless. “I’m sure Laine would enjoy that,” I tell him.

“Excellent,” he says. “I look forward to meeting the future Mrs Lynch.”

I raise my eyebrows. “That’s quite a statement.”

“She must be quite a woman,” he says again. “Any woman that can catch your heart after all these years has got to be one to keep hold of.” He tips his head at me. “I’ll get Barbara to pick out a hat ready for the big day.”

“You do that,” I say.

He thinks I’m joking, I’m sure, and on some level I am. Making polite conversation for the sake of appearances. But it’s more than that.

She’s becoming a part of my life.

It feels beautiful, and that only makes me worry all the more.

I try her phone again.

* * *

Laine

I rush out through the college gates, sighing in relief to find his car in the usual spot. I throw myself into the passenger seat, full of sorry explanations.

I’m an idiot! I forgot my phone! I rushed out and left it there, right there by the bedside table! I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot.

He doesn’t say a word, just reverses the Mercedes out of the space and heads for home.

I don’t know what else I can say, so I say nothing, just tap my fingers on my lunchbox.

I wish he’d go crazy and tell me how angry he is, just to get it over with, but he doesn’t.

“I was worried,” he says, so simply.

“I know,” I tell him. “I get it. I get how worried you’d be. I’m really sorry.”

“Rushing is a fool’s errand, Laine. Carelessness leads nowhere good.”

I tell him I know that, too. Tell him I’m sorry again.

He says nothing else, just stares at the road ahead.

I hate how it feels to disappoint him.

He pulls onto our driveway and parks up as usual. He opens the front door and steps inside as usual. Hangs his jacket up as usual.

And then he heads through to the sitting room. I follow him, hoping that maybe he’ll break the ice and tell me about his day, but he doesn’t.

He unfastens his cufflinks as I watch, and rolls his cuffs back.

My heart races, and I’m not even sure why. I just know that something’s brewing.

That tickle between my legs again, but it’s faint under the nerves.

“Naughty girls need discipline, sweetheart. I told you what happens when you disregard the rules.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“I’m sure you are,” he tells me and his voice is stern again, like it was when I was late this morning. “But sorry alone isn’t enough to learn your lesson, Laine. The rules are there for a reason, to keep you safe.”

“I know, Daddy…” I feel so young again. Young and ditzy and awkward, barely like the horny little cow who took his cock all weekend.

“You know that I have to do this.”

I nod, because I do know, at least I think I do. It’s part of being taken care of, discipline. I’ve never had discipline, because I’ve never had anyone who cared enough. Not like he cares.

Discipline means caring.

The feeling in my heart makes more sense than the words sound in my head.

He beckons me closer. I step forward so slowly. “Take off your jeans,” he says.

My heart thumps. “Okay, Daddy.”

My fingers fumble because they’re so shaky. I shimmy my jeans down my legs and step out of them, feeling so naughty as Daddy Nick stares at me in just my knickers. He’s not smiling, not even a bit. His brows are so firm and serious.

He takes a seat in the armchair, his back upright and knees rigid. He pats his lap, and my legs are wobbly as I step over to join him. “Over my knee,” he says.

I’ve never been over someone’s knee before. I lower myself so tentatively, but he grabs me and hauls me into position, my ass raised so vulnerably on his lap. The shame makes me burn.

I squeak as he tugs my knickers down. They bunch around my knees, and it feels so naughty I screw my eyes shut.

“I’m doing this for your own good,” he tells me, and his palm brushes my bare thigh. “Your own good, and mine, too.” I manage another nod. “This is going to hurt,” he says, but I already know that.

The first slap takes me by surprise even though it shouldn’t. I jolt forward on his lap, but he’s got me. His arm presses onto my back to hold me steady while his other hand spanks me, and it hurts. It really hurts.

Daddy Nick hits hard.

“Ow!” I squeak. “Ow, ow, ow...”

My little shrieks don’t do anything to put him off his stride. If anything it only makes him hit harder. It burns hot. Stings, too. Until the warmth begins to glow and tingle and my breathing slows from ragged gulps into long slow breaths.

“Naughty, careless, reckless little girl,” he grunts, every word highlighted by a thwack of his palm.

I squeal when he slaps my thighs, and that makes the burn start up afresh. My hair swishes around my face with every blow, and his knees press into my hips as I teeter on his lap.

He tugs me closer for extra balance, and that’s when I feel him. Feel how hard he is.

The burn on my ass spreads to my pussy. I want to clench my thighs but I don’t dare.

He spreads my burning cheeks and I let out a gasp as his fingers slip round to my pussy.

“Is Daddy’s punishment making you wet, Laine?” he asks. I’m not sure whether he wants me to be excited or not, so I don’t say a word. He finds out for himself, slipping a finger inside me and moving it in and out. I’m sure he’s left under no illusion. “Does making Daddy worried turn you on?”

“No!” I squeal. “No, Daddy! I just…”

“You just what?”

“I just…” I struggle to find the words. “I just like how it feels…”

He shifts underneath me. I guess that means he likes how it feels, too. His finger is still in my pussy, and I wish so hard he’d touch my clit and make me come.

“You’re a naughty girl, Laine.”

My face burns nearly as hot as my ass. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to be bad.”

“I think you like your punishment, Laine. I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll misbehave for more.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I won’t, I promise.”

I like it more than I should, that’s for sure. I guess I really am naughty.

“Say thank you to Daddy.”

I don’t know quite what he means until he eases me to the floor. His hand tangles in my hair and guides me to my knees before him, and he’s loosening his belt and unbuttoning his trousers.

I stare at him with wide eyes, so embarrassed at how flushed and dishevelled I must look.

He pulls his cock free and he really is hard. The tip glistens, and I realise how much I must’ve been wriggling on his lap.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whisper as he guides it to my lips. “Thank you.”

“What are you thankful for, Laine?”

I so want to answer correctly. “I’m thankful for… you teaching me… how to be a good girl.”

“And teaching you to be a bad girl, too?”

“Yes, Daddy. And that.”

“Suck me,” he says and pushes his cock between my lips.

I’ve taken Daddy Nick in my mouth so many times by now, but not like this. His fingers hold my hair so tight, and he thrusts his hips so hard that I retch around his cock. He doesn’t let go, and I splutter and choke until my eyes stream.

“Good little girls suck Daddy’s cock so sweetly,” he grunts, but there’s nothing sweet about the way I’m sucking him. Nothing sweet at all.

It’s noisy and wet and slurpy, and spit dribbles down my chin and drips onto the floor. I’m unsteady with my knickers still bunched around my knees, and it gives him so much power to move me wherever he wants.

My head bobs like a doll’s, my throat gurgling as he fucks my face, but I don’t stop looking at him, don’t stop wanting more.

“You really are a naughty little girl,” he tells me, and I believe him. I really am a naughty girl. “Misbehave again and you’ll get the belt,” he threatens, and I know it’s not an idle threat.

I wonder whether I’ll like it as much as I liked his hand on my ass.

I wonder whether I’ll ever get to find out.

“Daddy’s going to come,” he tells me. “Daddy’s going to come in your naughty little mouth, Laine.”

I squeeze my thighs together and it makes my clit spark.

I’m so ready for Daddy’s come. I hope my eyes tell him so.

He thrusts to the back of my throat and swears under his breath, and I taste him. It makes me snort and that’s full of cum, too. My eyes stream, but I don’t care. I love being messy with Daddy Nick’s cum.

I gulp in breath as he pulls out, and there’s a stream of spit between the tip of his cock and my chin. He wipes it up with his thumb and sucks it into his mouth.

“Dirty girl,” he says.

But I think Daddy Nick is the dirtiest one of all.