Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Trademarks Acknowledgement
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
Daddy’s Rules
ISBN # 978-1-78686-209-9
©Copyright Arabella Kingsley 2017
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright June 2017
Edited by Jamie D. Rose
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2017 by Totally Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, UK
Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Melting and a Sexometer of 3.
DADDY’S RULES
I am forever naked to him. There is nothing I can hide. All that I am I have surrendered to him. I am Daddy’s little girl.
Gabrielle Charles is trapped in a cold, loveless marriage with a controlling man. At a crossroads in her life, she believes all hope for an escape is lost until she meets young French billionaire Valentin Coudray. Taken with her vulnerability, strength and fragile beauty, he invites her into his erotic world to explore her true sexual nature as his submissive.
Coudray wishes to bare Gabrielle’s truth and help her find the will to stand up to her bullying husband and end her marriage. In return for allowing him to dominate her, he vows to love, protect and cherish her in every sense. But when a dangerous man from Valentin’s past reappears to threaten Gabrielle and her ex-husband attempts to manipulate her with guilt back into his arms, the lovers are forced to fight to stay together.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Rolex: Rolex Watch USA
Clouds in My Coffee: Carly Simon
Where the Wild Things Are: Maurice Sendak
Tales from the End Cottage: Eileen Bell
Mercedes: Daimler-Benz Aktiengesellschaft Corporation
London Eye: London Eye Management Services Ltd.
Range Rover: Jaguar Land Rover Limited
The Savoy: FRHI Hotels and Resorts
Prada: Prada S.A. Corporation
Gucci: Gucci America, Inc.
Cartier: Cartier International A.G. Corporation
Prologue
I never expected to have these feelings or to love this way. They disturbed and enthralled me with their intensity and the love and acceptance I found for myself in expressing them. I did not choose them. They found me and molded me into everything I am today. There was no choice. They demanded my surrender and I was compelled to give it without question or remorse. I am what I am now because of them, because of him.
He made it easy of course, just as he always does. He saw all that I am beneath my camouflage and stripped me bare until I saw and accepted the truth, until I faced every fear. I am forever naked to him. There is nothing I can hide. We are interconnected, woven together through time and space. There is no other for me. I belong to him unconditionally—forever learning, forever loving, forever trusting. I am Daddy’s little girl.
Chapter One
His presence entered my life when I least expected it. Isn’t that always the way? Daddy came when I believed all hope was lost and my life was a prison sentence I would never escape from, when I no longer saw the windows on my home as clear, unhindered portals to allow light and the outside world to flood in but with bars. They were barriers, reminding me of what I could not have—freedom.
Everyone wants the best for their child. They will sacrifice all that they have, even their life, no matter how many others find their actions insensible. My marriage was over, but my duty to my child remained. Until she finished school and was able to move on with her life, I would remain at the marital home. I would continue to pretend to be the dutiful wife to a husband who would not accept that I would eventually leave, despite my constant assertions. He could not understand why my love for him had died, even though the evidence of the reason was plain for all to see. But he would never let go. Perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps he was too frightened of what would happen if he did.
It was one early Friday morning when I entered a restaurant serving breakfast and coffee to early morning shoppers. I’d decided I needed a break from writing that morning and I could afford the time for a change. As a nervous person, it was no easy feat for me to accomplish. Sitting on my own, I usually worried if anyone was watching me, then I would spend the rest of the time thinking how stupid I looked. I know…crazy, right? As if they could be bothered to watch me. But there it was.
I ordered my usual—a rich-bean latte, eggs and mushrooms on toasted Italian bread. While I waited for my order, I pretended to be preoccupied with my mobile phone. Then I felt it. Those dark eyes looking at me, boring into my very soul.
The feeling of being watched was so strong that it forced me to look up and seek out the threat. My eyes locked with black ones. They belonged to a man younger than me in age, yet they spoke of a wisdom I had never attained. To say he was handsome would be an understatement and do him a disservice. He had thick, black, lustrous hair that shone under the light. It was cut short and appeared businesslike, just like the rest of him. My admirer wore an immaculate black suit. There was no doubt in my mind it was designer. His tie was silver—clearly silk—and he wore a large but elegant Rolex watch. Everything about the man said money with a capital M.
My observer sat at a table in the corner surrounded by three men and two women in business suits. They were talking loudly in French among themselves and referring to two large plans they had stretched across the table. He was not paying any attention. Leaning back in his cream booth-seat, he studied me closely while he rested his arm and elbow on the table, exposing his crisp white shirt’s cuff and silver cufflink. The pose displayed his dominance and power to perfection. Although I was not fully aware of the reason for this strange sensation at the time, my whole body softened, ready to submit to it.
Something drew me to his hands. They were well manicured, large and enticingly masculine. For a moment, I found myself imagining them caressing my body—my bare bottom in particular. I wanted to feel his smooth palm tracing the delicate skin, circling his fingertips over it as though it belonged to him. I wanted his hand to slap at my buttock, making it jump and quiver as I cried out with the pain and the strange pleasure the action enforced in my mind.
But it was nothing to the sudden image of me kneeling naked and submissive at his feet. The urge to be made to kneel before him was compelling and strong. I had never entertained such thoughts or images in my life. They made me angry, disturbed. I could not—would not—feel subservient to a man. I was a feminist who ranted and raved, not someone who knelt naked and pliant at a man’s feet, welcoming his dominance and mastery in my world. Yet the gentle dampness between my thighs displayed my betrayal and told me otherwise.
The heat of a blush rose in my cheeks forcing me to turn away. My heart pounded with frustration and annoyance. But the magnetic pull of his eyes quickly drew me back. He smiled gently at me when my gaze returned to his face. There was triumph in his dark eyes, as though he knew all my damaging, conflicting thoughts. I had a strong feeling I had been captured and caged by a clever hunter.
Chapter Two
Thankfully, I was distracted by the waiter bringing my food and latte. He smiled sweetly at me, unlike the beguiling, handsome devil figure in the corner, casting his eyes over me as though I was his captured prey. I couldn’t help but narrow my eyes when I discovered he was still looking at me when the waiter left and unblocked his view. Determined not to allow him to ruffle my feathers any longer, I lowered my head and began to eat.
I ate hurriedly, nervously, knowing he watched every action, every glance I made around the room. Intimidated, I put down my knife and fork and pushed my still-full plate to the side to bring my latte in front of me, feeling defeated. I dipped my head and watched the swirls of milk in my drink, idly thinking of Carly Simon’s song Clouds in My Coffee. Then a tall shadow startled me and the scraping of a chair being pulled out on the opposite side of my small table forced me to raise my head.
It was him. He sat down without waiting for me to give him permission. Fresh pine, mandarin and lime flared across my senses. His power was even more potent close up. I could barely look at him without feeling coy and a strange reverence. It was as though I awaited his approval to do so.
He held out his hand.
“Hello, my name is Valentin Coudray. And you are?”
I was so shocked that I automatically took his hand and shook it, as though there was nothing wrong or out of place with his direct behavior.
“Gabrielle Charles,” I gushed nervously.
‘Something wrong with your breakfast?” he enquired with a smile.
“No, no. I just don’t feel as hungry as I thought I did,” I said, hearing to my heart thud loudly under my breast.
“You know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. You should eat something.”
There was a strong and firm command in his words. His English was perfect, but the gentle French lilt weaving its way delicately through his speech made me soften and ignore the inner voice that was screaming anger at his presumption in sitting down at my table and telling me to eat—yet I liked it. A warm feeling of being cared for, perhaps even protected, swept over me with force. I lowered my eyes with a smile.
“It will be cold now.”
“Then I will order you more. Waiter,” he called out.
My eyes widened but I said nothing. I noticed that the waiter came over quickly. Valentin ordered me more hot food and a round of two coffees.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you seem lost and forlorn, sitting on your own. I do not like to see a woman alone,” he said softly. “A beautiful woman should always be accompanied.”
I blushed. I couldn’t help myself. Nobody had paid me that kind of attention or complimented me for a while. I had never thought of myself as beautiful but plain—a plain Jane and a slightly overweight one. Well, if you weren’t really skinny and size zero these days, you were made to feel overweight.
“I take it you are alone?”
It was a direct question. He wanted to know if I was attached to someone. My conscience wouldn’t allow me to lie.
“I’m married.”
To my surprise and alarm, he did not appear to be deterred. There was no change in his handsome facial expression.
“I don’t see a wedding ring.”
To be honest, I couldn’t remember where I had put the damn thing. I had taken it off and put it somewhere safe, but I couldn’t remember where it was. My intention was to never wear it again, so its disappearance was probably a blessing in disguise.
“My marriage is over,” I answered. “It is one of convenience for the sake of my daughter, at the moment—nothing more, nothing less,” I confessed hurriedly, surprised I was revealing such personal information so easily.
“I am sorry, but sometimes it is necessary to move on and start again,” he said gently, watching the waiter put my new, hot breakfast down in front of me. “Now, enough talking. Eat.”
There was no mistaking the firm parental tone in his voice. I straightened, unsure whether to accept it or issue a rebuke. But quietly, obediently, I picked up my knife and fork and began to eat.
Valentin sat patiently, sipping his coffee at intervals while watching me like an adult making sure a child took nourishment. And, like a child, I felt compelled to clear my plate in case I was to suffer any consequences. It felt strangely safe and loving. I was at a loss as to why I was experiencing these feelings. All I knew was that, although a large part of me feared and disputed them, an unheard part of me craved them.
My breakfast was hot and appetizing the more I ate, but I dared not look at Valentin as I did so. He did not speak to me. The heat of his gaze was upon me with every morsel I slipped into my mouth and I did not look up at him until I had dutifully cleared my plate and put down my knife and fork.
“Good girl. I get the impression you don’t eat breakfast every day. That will have to be remedied,” he informed me briskly, without waiting for a reply.
He was right, of course. I didn’t eat breakfast on most days and my tummy grumbled a lot because of it. I had a preoccupation with weight, and I stupidly believed that by skipping meals, I could reduce it. But it was a false economy and I never saw any difference in the mirror. I only ever saw a large woman and never how others reassured they saw me.
I said nothing, wondering what he’d meant by his words.
“Where are you going after this?” he asked out of the blue.
I paused, wondering whether I should tell him.
“Just around the shops then back to work.”
“You work in an office near here?”
I smiled, feeling anxious at telling him.
“I’m an author and I write at home.”
“Interesting. Would I have read any of your work?”
“Not unless you read romantic fiction with a paranormal twist.”
“Maybe I should start to. That way I can find out more about you. You seem a very interesting person, Gabrielle. I would like to know you better, enough to bare your truth.”
His words were as dark as velvet as he spoke. There was no smile but intense scrutiny, as though he were trying to see into my soul. I found myself taking a breath as his power brushed over me and demanded my surrender. Meekly, I gave in to the warmth and security that swept through it.
“I would like that, too,” I agreed with a small voice.
“Good. Then there is no time like the present. We will both make the day free. I will walk with you around the shops then take you for lunch. We can make plans for the afternoon after that. How does that sound to you?”
For a moment, I simply stared at him, ignoring the constantly criticizing voice in my head, and listened to the gentler, nurturing one that barely ever raised its head. It urged me to take a chance, live a little and, for once, take a day off. I decided to be brave.
“Great. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Drink your coffee. We aren’t leaving until you do.”
Chapter Three
We spent the morning walking and talking. The bookshop was my favorite place to spend time. And it was through books that I found out more about Valentin. He had given little away in the restaurant. He had controlled our short conversation and I had allowed him to. There was something about keeping our meeting shrouded in mystery. I did not want to find out everything at once. I wanted to discover it piece by piece and build the climax of excitement in discovering the real man. But a small voice at the back of my mind warned I might never have the luxury of knowing the man behind the mask of authority. Disappointment at this revelation coursed through me. I did my best to dismiss the idea, but it would not leave my thoughts.
My interest in books had always been in the philosophical and spiritual section. Those books about life, existentialism, angels, meditation, crystals… I also liked ones on birds with colorful pictures. I even confessed to him I liked coloring in books. My stack of different hued felt-tip pens at home was a testament to that. But recently, I had branched out into the science section to read about the makings of the universe and space itself. Such was the childlike wonder of my mind.
Valentin also liked to read philosophy and intrigued me by expressing a deep interest in the spiritual aspects of life. He gave a soft laugh when I blushed with embarrassment and confessed my love for coloring when I was unhappy and needed a lift. That was the first time he touched me, ruffling my dark chestnut hair with a smile, as though I were his little girl that he was taking for a shopping trip and encouraging to buy a book Daddy could read to her before bed.
I selected a couple of books I wanted to buy, and when I was finished making my choice, Valentin took hold of my hand and began to lead me to an area of the bookstore I did not ever go into—the children’s book selection. My child was now fifteen. She made her own book choices and they were not to be found in the teen or children’s department.
I frowned and tried to cover my surprise with a smile. Why is he bringing me here? But several books I remembered from my childhood caught my eye and my confusion was replaced with childlike awe and memories of feeling safe and comforted.
I picked up Where the Wild Things Are and delighted at the large illustrations, remembering how I’d read it when young, then to my daughter as a child. It had appealed to my sense of adventure, wanting to try new things, experience life and all it had to offer. More importantly, it called to my desire to travel. It sounded crazy but not when you are in the mindset of a child, and at that moment, I had reached back to that wonderful creativity.
All the pretty ladybird fairytale books with all the princesses and their handsome princes were to catch my eye next, then a book I already had, kept from my childhood in a tattered state—Tales From the End Cottage. On those dark nights when I’d cried and hugged my favorite teddy bear in bed, I’d read this book, and here it was, shiny and new. I told Valentin all about it. Why could I express such personal facts about myself to a complete stranger, a man I secretly hoped was taking an interest in me as a woman? Yet, I could.
He did not rebuke me or make me feel he was amused by my assertions. There was always a gentleness to his face and he appeared enchanted. I blushed and dipped my head after I’d spoken of the comfort I’d received from reading the book, feeling the need to cry at my circumstances. My inner voice would always chide me and insist I stop indulging in self-pity, and quickly I tried to gather myself and my thoughts.
Valentin tucked his fingers underneath my chin and raised my face toward him.
“Hush, little one,” he whispered, softening me with his melodic French lilt once more. “There is nothing to be ashamed of. We all need to find comfort where we can, however strange or unusual others may find it. It is an expression of you, and people must appreciate you for your uniqueness. Do not worry. I know of many women like you who love playing little girl every now and again to soothe their hurt. Do not rebuke yourself for something I find so beguiling in a woman who is able to show her vulnerability and expose her secret pain. It only enhances her attraction and induces me to protect her all the more for it.”
I couldn’t help marveling at his understanding. He gave me a smile that warmed my heart. I had only just met the man, but I felt safe with him and treasured for who I was.
“Now, little girl…”
My heart leapt every time he called me ‘little one’ and ‘little girl’. It could have proved annoying or insulting, but coming from him, it sounded perfect, natural, warming, fatherly and beautifully caring. “It is time we got you some lunch. Then we can make plans for this afternoon.” The parental authority was back in his tone and I was beginning to become comfortable with it, along with his firm direction and guidance.
“But first of all, let’s buy these lovely books you like so much.”
“No. I am not going to buy them. That would be—”
“Indulgent?” He smiled, going to retrieve all the books I had opened and caressed lovingly in awe. He did not leave one out. Then he took the philosophical and science book from my hands and walked to the counter to buy them, leaving me standing, bewildered. I forced myself to move.
“I need to pay for my own—”
“Enough, little girl. It is my pleasure to buy them for you.”
“But I hardly know you.”
“Now hush or I might have to put you over my knee and spank you.” He grinned and I couldn’t help but give a small laugh, even though that voice in the back of my head whispered He means it.
We lunched in an exclusive restaurant in the village. I ate lightly but sufficiently, having the feeling I was being watched as to how much I ate after this morning. A strange feeling of being taken in hand was prominent in my thoughts and I didn’t seem to mind. I hadn’t felt so looked after for such a long time. It made me feel all warm and soft, like a toffee with a melted center.
“Where would you like to go this afternoon? Is there anywhere you would like to visit?” he asked, taking a sip of red wine.
“I don’t really know.” Then it came into my mind. “The safari park.” It slipped out of my mouth too fast for me to stop it.
Valentin curled his lips with a sensuous but amused smile. Once again, his eyes displayed his triumph at a hunter having ensnared his prey. I looked away, unsure of my request because of it. Is he playing some cruel game with me?
But then he covered my hand resting on the table with his own.
“Then the safari park it is. My little girl will have everything her gentle heart desires today,” he told me in the adopted fatherly tone he had used with me in the bookstore.
I lit up. It had been a long time since I had visited the animals and I longed to see them. Valentin paid for lunch and swept on his long black tailored, cashmere overcoat before leading me outside. A quick call on his mobile had his chauffeur driving his black Mercedes to the front of the restaurant to pick us up.
Valentin appeared to take pleasure in my excitement to see the animals. It was a cold day and snow had been threatened, yet still he walked around the park with me, making sure I got to see all my favorites.
The day began to darken, the wind whipped up and flakes of snow descended from the heavens. I felt the cold and my apprehension at having to go home fell heavily on my shoulders, so much that he must have noticed. Valentin put his arms around me and drew me into his chest. I found myself clinging to him, not wanting the magic between us and the day we had spent together to end. I couldn’t bear going back to my house.
Originally, I had looked forward to it. My estranged husband was away in China on business for a week and my daughter was away on a sports weekend. It had been an opportunity for me to have time for myself without accommodating the needs of others and bending to their will to keep the peace. But now I didn’t want to be on my own. It was the last thing I wanted. I needed to be with Valentin.
The warmth he wrapped around me with his arms was protective. Life had been so barren and cruel, filled with arguments and ‘who could hurt the other the most’. Now I was strangely understood. Valentin was a present I did not want to have to give back. To my sudden embarrassment and shame, tears rolled silently down my cheeks.
He knew something was wrong by my silence. His leather-gloved hand cupped my face and he looked down on my tears with a frown.
“Why are you crying?” I hesitated but he said, “Tell me your needs. I am here to ensure you receive them. Now, why do you cry?”
But I could tell by his dark eyes that he already knew the answer. He only wanted me to voice it. My heart beat fast. Fear of rejection was uppermost in my thoughts.
“I don’t want to leave—to leave you,” I said slowly, as carefully as I could. I could barely look at him. We hardly knew each other. It had been a matter of hours rather than days, but cliché as it sounded, I already felt complete with him in my life.
Valentin didn’t say anything. He simply lowered his lips and brushed them across my own. Flames of roused passion rose from the pit of my stomach and spread out through my veins. He took quick, artful possession of my mouth when I gave a gentle moan. He wrestled my tongue for dominance and quickly, easily, subdued me and won the battle. I pressed my body close against his and yielded to his deepening kiss, wanting all that he could give me.
After a while, he allowed me to catch my breath and he smiled against my lips.
“That’s good, little one, because I have no intention of letting you leave my side and disappear from my life. I believe you are the one I have been searching for all this time.”
Chapter Four
My life was about to change. I could feel it in every bone in my body. Everything told me it was for the better and I was to receive all that I desired. I sat in Valentin’s car, clutching the cuddly toy penguin he’d bought me before we had left the safari park.
The snow was falling heavily as we drove to his house in the country. I was going to spend the weekend there and make some decisions about my life. Valentin leaned over in the car and brushed my head with a kiss before tucking the car blanket he had placed around my body to keep me warm and secure farther up to my chin. I hadn’t felt this safe, warm and protected since being a child.
It was more than clear that Valentin was wealthy, but each time I asked him about his business, he would change the subject. The car turned up a drive and tackled the icy, snow-covered driveway weaving through a small forest of trees. Eventually, we emerged between the picturesque snow-laden trees to see a large, beautiful Georgian house.
We pulled up in front of the tall door situated in the middle of the building on the gravel courtyard. The chauffeur opened the car door for me while I was still staring wide-eyed at the beautiful home. But it was Valentin who extended his hand and helped me alight.
My hand felt small and delicate in his large palm, and I couldn’t help leaning into his arm to show affection as he led me inside past a friendly housekeeper. She smiled kindly at me as we moved farther into the wide entrance hall containing a long white-and-black marble sweeping staircase leading to the other two floors.
To say my surroundings were opulent was an understatement. Valentin turned me to face him and began to unbutton my long red coat. He gently pulled it over my shoulders. The action was unexpected and that small voice in the back of my head reared up again and told me I should be annoyed. I dismissed it, allowing Valentin to tempt me further into letting go of my need to control. The freedom of allowing someone to take over, handle my life and the pain that came with it, even just for a short while, was enticing. The anguish and disappointment were burdens I had been carrying for too long and I desperately needed a rest.
Valentin smoothed his hands up and down my arms slowly, seductively. Any anger and fear I might have felt at his presumption in bringing me here and removing my coat dissolved with his touch.
“You feel cold, kitten. I think it is time I put you into a warm bath. Then Daddy will feed you before he puts you to bed.” His voice was low, soft and darkly mesmerizing.
Although I was stunned at his words and the clear implication in them, I nodded obediently, melting the first time he referred to himself as Daddy. It was a natural progression and I was more than willing to allow him to assume the role and the authority over me that went with the name. I became damp between my thighs at the way the word rolled so easily and seductively off his tongue. My arousal was so intense that it was enough to drown the voice of dissent screaming at me from the back of my mind.
Valentin handed my coat with his own to the housekeeper then surprised me by dipping his tall, suited form and putting an arm underneath my legs. He swept the captured me in his arms and wasted no further time carrying me up the stairs. I looked up at him, searching his eyes for a reason for his action. He just smiled, betraying nothing. Every minute I was with this man was an adventure and a learning process, not only about him but myself.
I cuddled my body close to his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring thud of his heart against my ear. Even at this early stage—at the beginning of our relationship—I did not want him to ever let me go or to ever remove the loving security he surrounded my heart with.
Valentin carried me along a long corridor on the first floor then bent to hold the handle of a large oak door to open it. He deposited me on an oval-backed chair covered in cream velvet.
“Sit still, kitten. I will undress you,” he whispered, giving me a quick kiss.
I sat dutifully, patiently, watching him turn his attention to the round bath sunken into the floor at the other end of the white marble room. I heard water begin to flow, hard and fast out of the taps as I cast my eyes over the rest of the room, taking in the walk-in shower and the tall mirrors above the long vanity unit with two sinks. I stared at myself in the mirror, vaguely aware of Valentin pouring some bath oil into the water. What am I doing? I’m about to let this stranger strip me naked and see all my imperfections. More than that, I am allowing him to act like my father? Maybe I have gone mad.
Panic flared inside me. Perhaps I was going down the wrong road. My anxiety was so strong that it spurred me into action and I stood, ready to bolt from the door and from what I had discovered about myself. I took two hurried steps then he called out my name. The water stopped running. Lips and body trembling, I dared not look at him and continued to the door. My hand was on the handle when he appeared behind me.
“You can leave if you want. I will take you home. But you will be running away from yourself,” he whispered, trailing the tips of his fingers along the side of my neck. “I know what you want and what you need. I will give all of it to you willingly. In turn, you will be providing me with everything I need and desire. There will always be a mutual exchange. I can give you everything, Gabrielle. Don’t allow your fear of surrendering to me stop you from receiving what your heart craves. You can be everything you dreamed of being with me. The choice is yours.”
His words were potent. They pricked at my conscience. For years, I had denied myself everything. I continually put others above myself and had begun to resent them for it. Yet the problem was mine. I was just as important as them. It was a simple assertion but another one I hadn’t been able to understand or fathom. By taking care of myself, I would be better able to give my love and help to others. Perhaps it was time to take care of business and allow another to care for me.
But I was frightened. I clung to the door handle, displaying my confusion and fear. I wanted Valentin to be my daddy and take the weight off my crushed shoulders, but my strict moral conscience kept telling me it wasn’t right. This was not how a woman of the twenty-first century behaved or should even entertain, but oh, how I wanted it. Tears sprang into my eyes when I realized I was about to walk away from him because I couldn’t quite make the leap. Then he said something that erased my indecision.
“Would it make it easier if I gave you no choice? Is that what you want?”
The man was already perfectly attuned to the workings of my mind.
I took a breath and turned to face him, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Yes, yes it would. Please…”
Valentin put his finger to his lips then kissed me gently. As he did so, he leaned to my side to lock the bathroom door, then deposited the key in his trouser pocket. The choice had been made for me and the relief accompanying it was overwhelming. Valentin lifted my chin and kissed me once more.
“I think before your bath, you should receive a spanking over Daddy’s knee for not listening to, voicing and respecting your own needs, baby girl.”
Chapter Five
My eyes widened. Anxiously, I glanced at the locked door, beginning to regret my decision. I hadn’t expected a spanking. It would hurt a lot. My hands flew to my bottom and clutched it protectively.
Valentin’s eyes softened and he gave a gentle chuckle. He stroked the back of his hand across my cheek as I continued to breathe hard.
“You are a beautiful little girl. So innocent. As your Daddy, it is time I taught you a few life lessons and my rules. You are an intelligent baby girl and I am sure you will learn fast.”
I backed away, but he caught my arm and pulled me to him. Wasting no further time, he reached for the bottom of my all-black jersey dress and raised it to my waist. Confused at my unexpected arousal at being spanked like a child over a man’s knee, I struggled. But Valentin was too strong for me and my futile movement so easily forced to calm by his strength only seemed to spur on my strange desire.
My thin cotton panties framed by my black stocking garters contained in my long black boots were exposed to his gaze. He shook his head and tutted as he skimmed his hands over them.
“From now on, I will choose and buy all your underwear. You will always wear silk or lace,” he said sternly, before winding his arm around my waist and lifting me up against his side with ease. I moved restlessly, thinking about how much his hand striking my pale, vulnerable bottom would hurt. But he only laughed.
Valentin sat down on the velvet chair and turned me over onto his knee. My body dangled helplessly as I kicked and begged him.
“Please, don’t spank me. Please.”
‘Hush, little girl. Take your punishment and please Daddy with a silent tongue,” he instructed, pulling down my panties until they rested just below the backs of my thighs.
All I could think of was how I must look draped over this younger man’s knee with my plump, round bottom bared for spanking, the curls of my sex brushing and pressing against his trousers. I closed my eyes with embarrassment and started to cry.
“Hush, baby girl. It will be over soon.” There was gentle amusement in his tone.
Then he laid one of his warm hands on my cool flesh, lightly squeezing one buttock. I felt his eyes scrutinizing it.
“You have a lovely, pert bottom, Gabrielle. Very pretty.”
I was distracted and surprised by his words, so much so that the first strike of his hand on my bottom had me yelping loudly. The rest of the slaps came at speed. He was firm and well-practiced in spanking a woman. There was no doubt of it. He knew exactly where to swat to induce a measure of pain that curiously produced more dampness and pleasure between my thighs. My bottom started to sting and burn with the strength of a furnace. My tears came hard and fast, stronger than they had ever been before. The more Valentin spanked me, the less it became about discipline but more a release of a lot of my pent-up emotion.
I screamed when he smacked the backs of my thighs in turn, imagining them turning hot pink.