CHAPTER HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FIVE

VIOLET POV

My nerves are on fire, tummy churning so bad I feel like I could throw up, but I make my way along the hallway and open the door to the study without a single moment’s hesitation.

      I want this. I want to please Spencer and make him feel better. I want to make him feel safe. I want him to know I really am a good girl.

      I want him to know that I really am sorry.

      He isn’t far behind, and my breath catches as he closes the door behind us. The belt swishes on the hook as it slams, and I wonder if I’m really ready for this.

   “Over the desk,” he tells me. “On your front.”

      I lower myself so carefully, pressing my cheek to the leather inlay. It smells rich and woody, like old books and scotch.

I imagine Spencer here, in this very same position. I wonder if his heart used to race like mine is now.

 He lifts my dress, and tugs down my leggings and my knickers without saying a word.

      The air feels cold. My skin feels prickly.

      My mouth feels so dry I can hardly swallow.

      “Five,” he says. “I’m going to give you Five. Not because I’m angry, but because you deserve it.”

      “Naughty girls need discipline,” I whisper.

      “Discipline shows care, Violet.”

      “I know,” I tell him. “I know, Daddy Spencer.”

      “I love you, Violet,” he tells me and I’m so sad for what I’ve done that it hurts more than his belt ever could.

      “I love you too, Daddy.”

      “Five,” he repeats. “And you’ll learn your lesson.”

      I’ve already learned it, but that doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but us. Nothing matters but loving Spencer and him loving back. Nothing matters but making sure I never hurt him again.

 I gasp as the leather glides across my ass cheeks. “This is going to hurt,” he says. He gives me a tap, and the leather feels so smooth against my bare skin.

 I wonder how many times it’s been used for this.

 I hold my breath. Grip the edge of the desk so tightly.

      And then I wait.

      Silence.

      One long empty silence.

      “I love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispers.

      And then he hits me.

      I squeal and jolt forward on the desk, and my breath catches.

      It sears. It really fucking sears.

      Burns so bad I fidget from foot to foot.

      “One,” he says.

      I don’t want two, and I know it.

      I really don’t want two.

      I cry out when it lands, and it sounds so pathetic and desperate.

  The tears come so easily, filling my eyes and spilling over.

      “Two,” he says, and my body jolts with these crazy sobs that make me feel like a baby. “You understand why I’m doing this?” he asks.

      I nod. I do understand.

      I asked for it. In every sense of the word.

      I squeal again when it lands for the third time.

      A baby, I’m such a fucking baby.

      “Three.”

      I lurch forward and wail like a banshee as four strikes, and my ass is on fire.

      “Four.”

      I cry openly at the next, no longer caring how I look, or if I take my punishment well for him.

      I don’t care about anything much apart from the burn.

      “The last one.”

      I close my eyes for five. And he waits.

      He waits until my sobs ease, and my body stops shaking.

      He waits until I twist my head to look at him and blink through the tears.

“Have you learned your lesson, Violet?” he asks and I nod.

      “Yes, Daddy.”

      He drops the belt.

      No Five.

      It makes the tears come all the harder.

      And this time he’s there. Pulling me up and holding me and smoothing my hair as I cry.

      I have no right to cry, but Daddy Spencer doesn’t seem to care about that. Daddy Spencer is so warm and kind.

      So loving, even when I’ve caused him so much pain.

      “I told you it would hurt,” he says, and I nod against his chest, my wet eyes soaking through the fabric of his shirt.

      I hope I don’t snot on him, but I doubt he’d care so much anyway.

      He puts his hands on my cheeks and tips my face to his and his eyes aren’t angry anymore, just scared.

      “I’ll never use the belt on you again,” he says. “You’re not a little girl, Violet. We just like to pretend you are.”

      A strange sob from my throat, and I’m nodding. I’m really nodding.

  And I’m happy, and sad, and relieved, and scared, and everything in between.

      “Thank you, Spencer,” I say.