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“That’s right. As you work your way to the outer edge, the numbers go up to three.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever read a scene in one of those romance books where the Daddy starts counting because his Little girl is being naughty?” He waited for her to nod. “I count, too. But if I start counting, you’re already in trouble. When I count, I’m telling you how far apart your feet will be when you’re in your naughty corner. You see, babygirl, different things happen for each number. I didn’t count today because you wouldn’t have understood, but if you’re wondering, you’re on three.”

“Three! How did I make it to three?”

“We’ll talk about that in a minute. Right now, we need to get you ready for your punishment.”

After setting the items from his bedside table on the stool, Boone stepped to the side to help Tildi take off her shoes and leggings.

He knew the second she realized what he had placed on the stool. Every muscle in her body locked in place. He’d have worried if removing her bottoms hadn’t put him so close to her sweet mound. The scent of her arousal was impossible to miss.

Well, well, well. His Little girl was turned on by the thought of butt plugs. His cock pulsed.

When Tildi was naked from the waist down, he picked up the smallest plug. Made of metal, it reflected the firelight. Her gaze never left the plug as he took the bottle from her naughty girl shelf. “Do you know what this is, Tildi?”

Still staring at the plug, she answered him in a hoarse whisper. “I don’t suppose it’s a tiny silver Christmas tree decoration, is it? I mean, it has its own stand with a jewel on it.”

His girl had a vivid imagination. Not much by way of self-preservation, though. “No, bluebell. Try again, and if I don’t think you are taking this seriously, I will get one of the larger ones by the bed.”

Now he had her attention. The tip of her tongue slid along her lip before disappearing back into her mouth. He wanted to grab her hair, tilt her head back to gain access, and chase after it. Wanted to but didn’t.

Later. There’d be time for that later. Once his point had been made.

“It’s a b-butt plug,” she managed to say before snagging her lip between her teeth. “Um, y-you weren’t thinking of using that, were you?”

“As a matter of fact, I was.”

“On me?” Her question ended in a squeak.

“Yes, babygirl. You see, you hid ninety-three texts from me. But just because you hid them didn’t mean they went away. Things we hide can still have an impact on what we think and feel, babygirl. I have something I think will help you remember that.”

Her lavender eyes widened and darkened to a deep shade of indigo.

He tucked the hair tickling her eyelashes behind her ear. “Good girl. I want you to bend over and place your hands on the stool. Then move your feet apart until you have one foot on each of the number threes.”

She stared at the stool as if it might bite her before doing as he said. Bent over with her legs spread wide, her sex was on full display. It almost sent him to his knees. God, she was beautiful. Her trembling legs. Her weeping pussy. All of her.

It took everything he could do not to toss the plug to the ground, drop to his knees, and fuck her senseless with his mouth.

Her words interrupted his thoughts. “I’m scared, Daddy. I don’t want it to hurt. I might accidentally say my safeword. I’d be a disappointment, and I couldn’t take that. I don’t want to do that. I… I’d rather have a spanking.”

He placed a calming hand on the small of her back and ran it over her ass and down her thigh. “There is nothing you could do or not do that would make you a disappointment to me, babygirl. You are so brave. You try so hard to keep everyone happy. And if you need to say your safeword, for any reason, at any time, you say it. If you don’t, then it’s not a safeword, it’s just a word. We can stop this right now and I won’t be disappointed.”

“You’d have to be! I would have failed. You’re supposed to be disappointed in someone when they fail you.”

Fuck. That.

He pulled the rag he put in his pocket free and placed the plug on the shelf. Gathering his Little girl in his arms, he carried her to the rocking recliner in front of the fireplace. After lowering himself to the seat, he covered them with a blanket and held her close.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice clogged with tears.

“There is no reason for you to apologize, babygirl. Not one. The only people who should feel shame are the ones who taught you that being human is a weakness. There is no truth in that. None.”

She didn’t say anything, but he had her attention. “Babygirl, being human is messy. We make mistakes. We fall down. We make bad choices. That’s how life works. No one is perfect, least of all that son of a bitch who donated sperm to your conception.”

That earned him a gasp and a giggle. “General Sperm Donor. I like that.”