Work Text:
Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed. Anyone else would have walked past and gone on with their day. But not him. Perception is his gift and he knows you all too well.
Backing up, your socks slick against the marble floor, you know it’s already too late yet the instinct to escape is too strong to ignore. You have made your decision to run knowing that if he’s forced to chase you, he won’t stop until you’re punished. It’s what you deserve after all – you’ve been a bad girl.
Turning on your heels, you almost trip over your own feet as you reach out to steady yourself against the stone railing of the stairs. Not daring to look over your shoulder, fearing he is right behind you, you instead fly up the stairs two at a time and dash down the hallway before finally sneaking a peek behind you.
He’s not there. He’s giving you time to hide.
Slipping into the spare bathroom, you look around in a frenzy before sinking into the bathtub behind the tempered glass. If he walks up to the shower he will notice you straightaway, but from the door it should be enough cover.
If you hadn’t been so preoccupied this morning you would have remembered to take out the trash and he wouldn’t have noticed it. He wouldn’t have seen the evidence that showed you left the house when he told you not to.
“Why are you running?” His voice is closer than you’d like. “You’re just making it harder on yourself.”
It’s true. He hates it when you hide. But, he was on his way out. He’ll be late if he doesn’t leave soon. If you can stay quiet, if you don’t bring any attention to yourself, he might just leave and if he does, he’ll have plenty of time to calm down before you have to face him again tonight.
“Come out now and I won’t get angry. I promise.”
Swallowing hard you resist the urge to move. You can’t fall for his sweet words. There’s no way he’ll go easy on you.
“I’m going to count to three and if you don’t come out by then, I can’t be held responsible for what I may do.”
His voice is further away. Letting out a jagged breath, you lift your hips and slide into a more comfortable position.
“One.”
He’s at the end of the hall. You’re fine.
“Two.”
Cracking your back, you drum your fingers against your thigh and wait for him to go back downstairs. Hopefully he leaves quickly.
“Three.”
But why does he sound so close?
“I know you’re in the bathroom.”
Fuck.
“I gave you a chance to come out willingly. Now you’ve left me no choice but to come in there and drag you out.”
“I can explain,” you say, jumping up from the tub. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses.” He stands in the doorway, his frame stealing all the space, making the room feel small. Making you feel small.
“Not here.”
“If you didn’t want to be punished here you shouldn’t have run away. Assume the position,” he says, unbuckling his belt.
“Please, daddy.” Sliding to your knees across the frigid, cold tile, you curl up under him. Reaching out, you ball your hands up into fists as you clench them around the silky material of his jacket. Looking at him from under your lashes, you give him a shy smile. “I don’t want you to be late.”
“You should have thought about that before you pulled this little stunt,” he says, pulling you up quickly from the floor and throwing you over his shoulder. He kicks open the bedroom door, the loud snap of his boot on wood familiar yet still shocking. Tossing you down on the bed, he slides his belt out loop by loop, his eyes intent on yours. “Assume the position.”
“It’s not what it looks like–”
“What did I just say?”
Taking in a bitter breath, you turn over and shimmy down the mattress until your toes touch the floor. Flinging your face into the thick downy bedding, you wait, listening to the steady ticking from the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room. After a moment of silence you click your teeth and pull up your creamy silk dressing gown so the only material covering the bottom half of your body is the black thong he requested you wear to bed last night. You brace yourself.
His fingertips brush against your bare arse like a feather and you begin to wonder if you actually felt them. You start to turn your head when you hear the snap of leather on leather, the pull of the belt.
Squeezing your eyes shut you shift your hips back and forth in anticipation, the ticking of the ancient clock slowing down to a blurred beat echoing down inside your eardrums. Your breath hitches and your toes curl as a smile spreads across your face.
Instead of the familiar smack of the belt you wince as his palm claps against your cheeks, causing them to vibrate and jiggle before he tells you, “Count them off.”
“One.” Your voice is steady even as your heartbeat starts to quicken.
A small yelp exits your lips as he continues, his large hand slapping your soft flesh.
“Two,” you moan out the word as heat spreads both across your face and radiates from your tender rear.
He chuckles and brings down his hand for a third time. This time you squeal with delight, your breathing accelerating along with your erratic heart. Licking your lips, you squeeze the plush bedding between your fingers.
“Three,” you choke out the word between pants as flames dance across your skin and heat pools within your throbbing cunt.
Squirming, you shift your arse back and forth, the friction of the movement against your clit making you shudder in pleasure. A gurgled cry bubbles out of your mouth as he spanks you once more, your whole body propelling forward on weak elbows that threaten to give out.
“Four.” The word is dirty on your lips, raw and unadulterated.
“What a little slut. I didn’t even get to 5 and you’re already soaking wet,” he says, his fingers grazing the tiny material covering your pussy. Writhing under his touch you chance a glance behind you and your eyes widen. He’s looking at his watch. Shit. He looks down at you, a mischievous grin teasing his features and you groan. “Ah, I don’t want to be late.”
“No, daddy, please,” you beg, turning on shaky knees. “I haven’t learnt my lesson yet. Please don’t stop.”
“I have a meeting in an hour. I’m already pushing it.”
“But. No, I–” He pulls his hand back and the loss of contact feels like torture. Sitting up, your calves positioned under your thighs, you bite your bottom lip and whine. He shakes his head, bending down to grab his belt and starts to walk towards the door. “Wait!”
“We can continue your punishment after I get home.”
“Wait! Please.” You follow him, sliding to the floor like a snake, pulling on the expensive material of his navy blue suit pants. “If you don’t finish my punishment now, I might not learn my place. I might even leave the house again.”
He kicks out his foot, dislodging your fingers from his pants as cold eyes stare down at you. The skin of his jaw pulls back as he clicks his tongue. A vein in his neck bulges from the weight of his teeth grinding together before he takes a deep breath and relaxes into a tight smile.
“You don’t want the punishment that will come from disobeying me again.”
He leans down, dragging you halfway up by your hair. Pulling you into a kiss that’s all teeth and heat, he leaves your lips swollen and pulsing in need. His tongue dances along your lips before pushing inside long enough to taste, to leave you needing more.
“Don’t provoke me again, darling. I promise you won’t like the outcome.”