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"Am I going to need my belt for this conversation?"
"Please, no!" Her bottom was throbbing, and she could feel new welts rising over the ones that had just healed. "Can I… can I go back over your knee?" she asked, knowing that it was going to be her last chance to be close to him. When their talk was over, they would be too.
"Okay." He sat next to her on the bed and pulled her into his lap. "Maybe it's better if we are face-to-face for this conversation?"
Horrified, she shook her head, burying her face in his shirt. "Mmm mmm."
"Okay, whatever you say. Thank you for expressing your needs." With that, he flipped her over until she was face down across his lap and rested his hand on her bottom.
"Is it easier for you to talk this way?" he asked. "Are you ready to explain why you smacked me?"
"Mmm mmm," she murmured helplessly. Starting this conversation was the beginning of the end, and she wasn’t ready for it to end.
As he sat there, with Emily face down over his knee, with her bottom red and welted, refusing to talk and explain why she had smacked him, his stomach knotted, and he realized he was nervous for the conversation that was about to happen.
Maybe not the conversation itself, but for what would come after. After they had the hard talks and worked through their pressing issues, he would have to tell her why Derek had turned her over to him. He would have to explain that he had asked to be matched with her, and that he intended to claim her as his very own submissive and little girl.
Given the information he had gotten in Derek's office about her intentions toward being matched, that was nerve wracking and the risk of rejection was very real. He and Emily had something special, though. He knew that, he could feel it, and he could only hope that she felt it too. He hoped it was enough to change her mind. That the risk would pay off in the end and they could be together. Dalton was ready for his very own happily ever after.
He needed to get there, which meant that they had to get through this part of the conversation, which meant he had to make Emily talk, because he wasn't a mind reader, dammit.
She seemed content to just lay stubbornly over his lap with her lips clamped together, not saying the things that needed to be said. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him, and if he wanted to win her, then he couldn’t afford to make it easy for her, either.
"So, you're not going to talk?"
She didn't answer.
With a sigh, he spread her ass cheeks, exposing her dark hole. He placed his thumb over the puckered opening and pressed until she squirmed and whimpered.
"I have heard," he mused, pressing harder, "that sometimes it’s easier to get a little girl to listen, or in this case talk, with Daddy's finger in their ass. Supposedly, it helps them focus and gives them that submissive headspace that they need. Shall we try it?"
Her shoulders rose and fell, but she made no sound of protest. He replaced his thumb with his index finger and pushed past her opening, until he was knuckle deep in her ass.
"How's that?" he asked when she squirmed. "Do you feel like talking yet?"
"Mmm mmm."
Interesting. She seemed determined to draw this out. It made him even more curious to find out what the reason would be.
"That's fine, then. I'll talk. You listen." Lifting his hand, he brought it down with a hard smack atop a clump of forming bruises, spanking with earnest determination. "Even though our contract was over, I am on staff here. As such, I will always have a dominant role over you whether we are playing or not. My position demands a modicum of respect. I don't expect you to worship or fawn over me, but I also don't expect you to raise a hand to me. I'm certain you would not raise a hand to Derek or any other member of the staff without being forced to give an explanation and suffering severe consequences. That feels like a pretty safe assumption, doesn't it?"
“Yes, Sir," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
"Thank you for your apology, but again, I'm far more interested in the reason so we can move onto the severe consequence part. But if you’re going to continue to be stubborn, then I'm far more interested in the explanation."
Her only response was to wiggle and squirm. He pumped his finger in and out of her ass while continuing to spank with his free hand.
"Emily," he warned when she started to squeak and fight, "my only plan today is to have this conversation, however long it takes. I've been patient for days, so I can continue to be patient for as long as it takes you to talk, but your bottom will pay the price."
"Ugh! Fine!" she cried, but she still didn't talk. He lobbied a volley of smacks to her thighs where they were marked from his belt and waited until the pain grew hot enough to break her.
"Okay, okay, okay! I just… it's hard, okay? Being with you, and working with you, and dropping like I did, it gave me thoughts and feelings that I’d never had before. It made me want things I’ve never wanted. And then, it all came crashing down, and I realized that there was never a chance for the things I was wanting to happen, and you lied to me! And then you showed up, and I just… I reacted badly. I’m sorry."
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," he responded, utterly lost. "What do you want, why isn't it possible, and how on earth did I lie to you?"
"Argggh!" Her cry was strangled, and her frustration tangible. "You didn't tell me you were Arabella Cole!"
He stopped spanking and pulled his finger out of her ass, flipping her into a sitting position on his lap. Damn. He hadn't realized it had gone that far that quickly, but he should have. Of course, it still didn't explain why she had smacked him.
