DDD: Daddies Dirty Desire
His large hand came down in sharp, stinging smacks—ten of them—until her skin glowed pink and she was dripping down her thighs.
“Count them, princess,” Dante had growled, fingers teasing her soaked folds afterward. “And thank your Daddy for correcting you.”
She came on his fingers while sobbing the words.
Now, on the fifth morning, Nico summoned her to the library.
The room was breathtaking—floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a massive mahogany desk, and leather sofas facing the ocean view. Nico sat behind the desk in a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal powerful forearms and tattoos. Dante leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, watching her with hungry eyes.