A Montana Daddies Christmas (Montana Daddies 4.5)

Crap. Before she could say anything, his finger between her legs disappeared and she heard him suck in a breath. “My girl is very wet.”

She shuddered out a breath.

“Too bad she’s earned herself a spanking, or I’d have her sit on my face.”

Damn it. Damn it. She should never have moved that tree. And even though she’d never sat on his face, and wasn’t actually sure that sounded like something she’d want to do, she did know that Kent always made things good for her.

No, not good. Spectacular.

“Right, baby girl. You’re getting fifteen with my hand for moving the tree. I’m following up with ten with your hair brush for not talking to me about how you were feeling around spending our money.”

Oh God. She wouldn’t be able to sit at all tonight!

He rubbed his hand over her ass once more. Then his hand landed on her left cheek. Then right. Back and forth a steady rhythm that soon had her bottom heating. Tears welled. Dripped down her cheeks. Not so much because of the pain but the disappointment in herself.

He stopped and rubbed her ass. “Sweet girl? You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, hearing her breath hitch.

“Abby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she replied on a sob.

“Ready to continue on or do you need some time?”

She liked that too. That he was always willing to slow things down. Give her what she needed. Not that a delay would ever mean he would be turned off the path he’d decided on.

“I’m ready to carry on,” she told him, wanting this over.

“My brave girl.”

She wasn’t. Not at all. But it felt nice that he thought that. He moved away and she turned her head to watch him walk to the dresser and pick up the heavy, wooden hair brush he’d bought for her.

He positioned himself behind her once more and she closed her eyes, concentrating on not tensing up as she knew that only made things worse. He rubbed it briefly over her bottom then gave her one sharp slap. Ouch. Crap. Shit. That hurt. A lot. Especially on top of an already stinging bottom.

“I want you to know how much you mean to me, Abby.” Smack. Smack. “I don’t want you holding stuff back from me, ever. And I don’t want you risking your safety to do things I can easily do.”

A sob fought its way free as he landed another couple of smacks.

“Love you more than anything, Abby. You’re my world.”

More smacks. Her ass was throbbing. It was painful. It meant she wouldn’t sit comfortably for a while. She sobbed, tears wetting the cover beneath her as he landed the last few.

Oh God. Oh God.

And then he was beside her on his back. He carefully pulled her so she lay over him. She rested her cheek against his firm chest and cried.

“Hush, Abby, sweetheart. It’s all over now. Shh. Hush now. All done.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back.

“I feel so g-guilty.”

“Guilty?” he asked, his hand stilling. “For what, baby?”

“I’m so-so happy.”

“You’re guilty for feeling happy?”

“I get to have a Christmas. A tree. Decorations. Give people gifts. He doesn’t get any of that.”