Alle Kapitel von Punish Me, Daddy: Kapitel 21 – Kapitel 30

***Olivia's POV***"Liv? You okay? You went all quiet on me there." Drake’s voice broke through the fog in my head. I was still trembling, my breath hitching as the adrenaline of the last few minutes began to turn into cold, sharp dread. I got off him, his c*ck sliding out of me and grabbed my blanket to wrap it around me. This is all wrong. My eyes flickered back to the doorway, but it was empty now. The heavy, suffocating presence of Chandler had been gone for awhile now. And I had been in a frozen shock for awhile now, I understoof why Drake looked suddenly worried. "Liv?" Drake sat up and nudged my shoulder, his expression confused. "You look like you've seen a ghost." The realization of what I had done made me feel weak, I couldn't think. It was not sinking in to me yet. "You need to go," I whispered, scrambling to find my clothes and putting them on. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely button my skirt on. "Now, Drake. Right now." "What? Why? You said h

The command felt like a heavy weight, crushing the air out of my lungs. "Excuse me?" I whispered, my voice sounding pathetic. I looked at Chandler, searching for a flicker of a joke, a sign that he was just trying to scare me. But his face was a mask of dark, unfamiliar look. Like the man who had watched me come undone. "Bend over the table," he repeated. I didn't move. I was staring at him, my breath coming in a little gasp, when my eyes drifted down to his right hand. Wrapped tightly around his knuckles, the leather against his skin, was his belt I haven't noticed until now. The heavy silver buckle dangled slightly. The realization hit me like a slap on the face. Horror, cold and suffocating, washed over me. This wasn't the thrill d felt upstairs when I was trying to provoke him. "Chandler, please..." I stammered, backing away until my hips hit the edge of the table. "I... I didn't mean... please don't." "Turn around." The fear was so consuming it was paralyzing.

***Chandler's POV***I heard her before I saw her. The light click of her heels. Olivia walked in, dressed for a day out. She wore a white tank top paired with a blue cardigan, then a short denim skirt and heels. Her hair was down but tucked neatly behind her ears, not a single strand out of place. There was no trace of the girl who had wept against my chest after her punishment last night. "Good morning," she said, her voice smooth as she reached for a fruit. She settled on her usual seat on the dining table, across from me. "Morning," I replied, not looking up from my laptop. "You’re heading out?" "I have a lunch date with my friends. Then we thought we'd stop by the university to pick up some materials for the next semester, since our break is almost over." "Do you need a ride?" I said, finally closing my laptop. "I'll take my own car, thanks. Since I'm no longer grounded." I tightened my grip on the coffee cup. "I hope you finally learned your lesson." "Of cours

***Olivia's POV***I followed the scent to the kitchen. Chandler was there, his white shirt sleeves he's wearing rolled up to his elbows. He was standing at the stove, a pan hissing in front of him. It was a domestic sight I wasn't used to yet. The way his back muscles moved under the thin fabric as he stirred something made me pause and look away for a moment before gathering myself back. "You're early," he said, not turning around. I flinched, not expecting for him to notice me soon. "Lunch ended sooner than I thought," I managed to say, stepping further into the room. I leaned against the counter, trying to look as calm as I had this morning. "How did you learn how to cook?" "I spent years living alone in London, Olivia. I didn't survive on takeout." He finally turned, resting a hand on the counter. His dark eyes swept over me, lingering just a second too long on my face, before returning to the stove. "Did you find the materials you needed at the university?" he asked casu

***Chandler's POV***The drive back to the estate was a suffocating silence. My knuckles were white, my grip on the steering wheel so tight. Every time I glanced at the passenger seat, I saw her, shivering in that thin dress, clutching that ridiculous stuffed bear as if her life depended on it. I was livid. The sight of her abandoned at a fair at one in the morning made my blood boil. I kept the fury locked behind my teeth. I didn’t want to hear her excuses, and she seemed too drained to give them. I had done this. For the last five days, I had intentionally distanced myself. I needed to rebuild the wall. I thought if I left her alone, the air in this house would stop vibrating with that unspoken tension, and my hands would stop itching to touch her skin. But I was a fool. I had given her the freedom she wanted only to get herself stranded at a pier. The moment I heard her voice on that stranger's phone, shaky and terrified, my heart had nearly stopped. I thought somethi