Page 77 of Raine

I freeze, and he chuckles darkly. “I know who you are, Raine. The difference between the others you’ve let warm your bed and me is that I don’t give a fuck. Now tell me, baby, why am I punishing you? Why am I going to slap this ass until your cheeks burn and your pussy flutters and weeps?”

His crass words have my legs cinching closed and my snatch tensing in anticipation. “Because I ignored you and didn’t reply to your messages.”

“Mhhmm… What else?”

My brow crinkles, and I take a second to think, running through my memory like a voracious slut chasing her next ride on a dick.

His palm comes down hard on my ass, and I yip in response. “What the fuck, Gabe?”

He slaps my ass again, and it stings. He caresses the globes of my butt, prying my legs apart, and embarrassment has me trying to close them again.

His finger slips through my folds, and he hums his approval. “So wet, baby. What did I ask you to call me?”

“Daddy.”

“Good girl. Why else are you over my knee?”

I swear a light globe goes off in my head as he utters the last word, and I have to fight the smirk from taking over my features. It’s not that he can see my face while I’m hanging over his knee, but something tells me he’d know and punish me for it.

I’m feeling a little dizzy in this position, but nothing is going to deter me from this punishment, from seeing the praise in his eyes, from pleasing my new monster.

“Because I ran from you.”

“What else?”

“I…um, because I goaded you?”

“Precisely. So how many times do you think I need to spank this pretty ass, Sweet Girl?”

The nickname swims manically in my stomach, and I search my mind for an answer but come up short. “I don’t know.”

“Let me ask you a question,” he says, moving his fingers from my entrance and rubbing the wetness around my ass cheeks. “How old do you think I am?”

“Is this a trick question?” I sass, and he chuckles loudly.

“It doesn’t matter. Here’s an easier question. How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“So that’s fifteen years separating us. I think that number is perfect, wouldn’t you say?”

It takes a second for me to catch up and realize that he means that’s how many times he’s going to slap my ass. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“You bowing out, little girl?”

I scoff. “You wish.”

“Not even a little bit.”

His hand comes down hard on my ass, and I cry out as he continues with another three quick smacks before stopping, his palm circling where he’d hit.

“That’s six all up. I want you to count the rest out; do you understand, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Ready?”