Page 37 of Punish Me, Daddy (Boston Kings #8)

I was falling for him. Right here, right now at this very table. Headfirst. Straight out of the plane. No parachute.

He must have seen something in my face, because he leaned in a little, voice subdued now.

“You’re thinking too hard.”

“I’m thinking exactly the right amount,” I said, but my own tone had softened as well.

He smiled. Just a little. Then stood, circled the table, and offered his hand.

“We’re done here.”

I looked up at him and put my hand in his.

The drive back to the penthouse was silent again, but this time it didn’t feel heavy.

It felt inevitable . Like we’d stepped into the current of a rushing river too strong to fight, and now we were just being carried away by it.

His fingers brushed my thigh once at a red light, and the heat it sparked made my breath catch.

When we pulled into the garage, I expected him to go around the car to open my door, but he didn’t. He just looked at me.

“You were a good girl today.”

It was a loaded statement. My heart pounded harder than it should have from something that simple.

“Was I?”

“Yes,” he said. “And I will always reward my good girl.”

The elevator ride up was fast and silent. My thighs clenched in anticipation with every floor we passed. My pulse was in my throat. That heavy ache already starting to blossom low in my belly, because I knew what was coming.

I wanted what was coming.

When the doors opened to the penthouse and I stepped out ahead of him, I could almost feel his eyes on me like a tangible caress. On the curve of my spine. On the way my dress clung to my body with every movement.

He didn’t say a word as we entered the space, but I could feel it, the tension between us stretching tighter, like a thread about to snap.

He didn’t touch me right away. He just closed the door behind us and stood there watching me like I was a present he wasn’t done unwrapping. I stood in the middle of the penthouse, the silence swallowing the sound of my heartbeat, the city stretching out around us like it was watching too.

I shifted slightly, not nervous, just aware. My skin prickled under his gaze, every inch of me suddenly more sensitive, more alive.

“You were such a good girl today,” he said again. “You spoke like you belonged at that table. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t hide. You showed them exactly who you are.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything.

He crossed the room slowly. He moved like the kind of man who always got what he wanted. He didn’t demand it; he just waited long enough for you to offer it up yourself. He stopped in front of me, reached up, and traced the edge of my jaw with the back of his fingers.

“I told you I’m going to reward my good girl.”

I swallowed, breath catching.

“And what’s the reward?” I asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

He didn’t answer, not out loud. He just reached for the black tie at my waist and tugged it loose.

The gray dress fell open like it was meant to, slipping from my shoulders and puddling at my feet with a whisper.

I stood there in nothing more than a pair of lacy panties and a matching bra, the necklace still around my throat, my skin flushed, thighs pressing together like I could hide how badly I ached for him.

His eyes dragged down my body, slow and heavy, like every inch of me belonged to him and he was reminding me of that without needing to say a word.

Then he stepped closer.

“Walk to the bedroom. Get on the bed.” His voice was a gruff command. “On your stomach. Facing the window.”

I turned without a word, walked down the hall into the master bedroom, climbed onto the mattress, and obeyed.

The city lights wrapped around me through the glass. The cold air from the overhead fan kissed my skin, but I was burning inside. I could hear him behind me removing his jacket, undoing the buttons on his shirt, every sound amplifying another notch of anticipation inside me.

I felt him, his hands on my hips firmly, grounding me. He pulled down my panties, sliding them down my legs and letting them fall to the floor. My bra followed.

He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, soft and warm.

“This isn’t a punishment,” he murmured against my skin. “This is a reward . You’re going to feel exactly how fucking proud of you I am.”

I sucked in a breath as his hands moved lower, over my thighs, between them, parting me gently. His fingers grazed the slick heat already waiting for him, and he made a quiet, pleased sound in his throat.

“Look at you,” he said roughly. “Soaking wet just from following Daddy’s instructions.”

I bit my lip, eyes fluttering shut.

He slid his hand slowly down my spine, then gently guided me to turn over onto my back. He moved around me, sinking to his knees and then suddenly his head was between my thighs before I knew what was happening.

I jolted at the first swipe of his tongue—warm and firm—licking through the mess he’d already made of me. He groaned like I was the best thing he’d ever tasted, and when his hands gripped my ass to pull me back against his face, I nearly arched clean off the bed.

I moaned, breathless, as he worked me open with his mouth, devouring me like a starving man. Tongue flicking, circling, sucking, until I was shaking and sobbing and clinging to the sheets like they might anchor me to earth.

“You like that?” he rasped, voice dark with heat between my thighs. “You like being my good girl?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “God, yes.”

“Then come for me.”

I did.

Hard.

Everything inside me snapped. My body went rigid. My breath caught. I cried out, throwing my head back as my vision went white-hot and I came all over his tongue.

He didn’t stop. He didn’t fucking stop.

He licked me through every wave of pleasure, drawing it out until I was crying and shaking through one orgasm after the next, until tears streaked down my cheeks.

Finally, he pulled back.

Slowly, he stood, looming over me. His dark eyes burned with a possessive hunger as he watched me sprawled across his sheets, panting, utterly wrecked.

He climbed over me, and I felt him press a kiss to the center of my forehead. Gentle. Possessive.

“You earned that,” he said.

It might have been the adrenaline, or the warmth still blooming inside me, or the way he said it like it meant something deeper than just sex, but I felt my eyes sting.

For the first time in a long time… I felt wanted.

Maybe even loved…