She exhaled slowly and met his gaze. “I don’t want you to be gentle, Papa.” A spasm of heat assailed her core and she squirmed enticingly on his lap, ignoring the slight burn on her bottom as she moved about. The cooling ointment he’d applied to her punished backside had worked wonders, but if she moved too vigorously it burned, reminding her of the shameful strapping that she’d just endured.
He grasped her hair and gave her locks a firm tug, forcing her head back as he placed kisses on her throat, then he dragged his teeth along her flesh, eliciting goosebumps all over her body. He lifted her to her feet and guided her to the foot of the bed, where he promptly pushed her onto her stomach and forced her legs apart. He then placed a pillow beneath her stomach, causing her bottom to lift higher and her thighs to spread even wider. Her feet no longer touched the floor, and she felt at his complete mercy, and a naughty thrill coursed through her as she awaited the first hard thrust of his cock into her cunny.
She heard the familiar sounds of him undressing, followed by the opening of the salve he used on her bottom hole. Her behind clenched in delicious anticipation. Papa was going to put something into her hiney hole, and she shuddered as she waited to discover whether it would be a plug or his big cock. Her mouth went dry and she concentrated on breathing in and out, and she felt a trickle of moisture run down her thigh.
“Papa’s going to insert the largest butt plug into your bottom, little girl.” He paused, and the room echoed in dramatic silence. “And then I’m going to pound into your quim with my cock.”
She gasped, but she didn’t dare argue, though nervousness suddenly bounded within her because he’d never claimed both her holes at once before. But she trusted her papa and knew he would never hurt her, and the aching in her privates deepened and a heated tingled swept throughout her entire body. She couldn't deny it. She wanted it—wanted papa to fill both of her holes at the same time.
Though he usually required her to draw her own bottom cheeks wide before he inserted a butt plug, he splayed her behind apart on his own and worked the lubrication into her private hole, delving two fingers into her tightness until her snug channel was adequately coated with the salve. Before she managed her next breath, the cool tip of the largest plug was pressed to her hole, and Papa slowly worked it into her passage. Once the object was fully seated in her, he released her bottom and stepped back, taking position with his hard cock pressing at the throbbing entrance of her cunny.
She lifted her hips and spread her legs wider, inviting his entrance. A shiver went down her spine. I don’t think I will manage to be very gentle. Yet she wanted him inside her, craved the rough pounding he had promised her.
He pushed the tip of his hardened shaft into her kitty and gripped her hips.
“You’re mine, Hyacinth. Mine.”
Then he shoved into her, pushing all the way into her quim with one brutal thrust that had her gasping for air and clutching the covers. At once, he set a fast pace of pounding into her. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled his bedchamber. True to his word, he wasn’t gentle. But she didn't want gentle. She wanted the fullness of his passion, wild and abandoned. The poet and the beast.
Time lost all meaning as he joined with her, and the fullness of the plug in her bottom made her extra aware of his large size. He reached underneath her and caressed her clitty, and she cried out as a rapid climax swept over her, leaving her breathless and drained of all energy while he continued driving into her. At last, she felt his movements increase and he gave a deep growl in his throat. His seed filled her in rapid, violent bursts of heat.
She couldn’t move. Her body had turned to liquid.
But Papa took care of her.
He gently withdrew from her cunny, then pulled the plug from her bottom. He swept her up in his arms and settled on the bed, moving back against the pillows as he held her tight. She laced her arms around his neck, lightheaded from the euphoria of her recent release, and overcome by the affection for her papa that tightened in her chest.
The rift had been sealed. Truly, it had. There was no despair left between them, not even the smallest twinge of an aching heart.
He stroked her hair from her face and smiled down at her. His love washed over her, a multitude of warmth and tenderness.
“Cynny,” Papa said. “My sweet Cynny.”
She nestled her face to his chest and listened to his heart beating as she felt hers thumping in her own chest. Just as she suspected, their hearts were indeed beating in tune.
Together as one.
Epilogue
Cynny gazed out her bedchamber window, watching the lane in front of Grayson House for signs of a carriage. She was practically bursting with excitement, so much that she’d hardly managed a bite during breakfast. Cammie, along with Lady Tiffin and Lady Harding, were all coming for a visit this afternoon. To Cynny’s delight, Lady Tiffin and Lady Harding, who had both invited her to call them by their given names—Alice and Gertrude—during their first luncheon at Grayson House over a month ago, had welcomed both her and Cammie into society with open arms. Cynny was grateful the wives of her husband’s friends were kind and not as prone to gossip as most of the women in the ton, and she couldn’t wait for their arrival.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and Cynny turned as her papa entered her room. He wore a mischievous expression and his hands were behind his back, as if he were hiding something from her. Her interest piqued, she tried to peer around him to see what he was holding, but he kept turning and preventing her from glimpsing whatever it was he held in his hands. Clearly, he derived far too much enjoyment in tormenting her.
“Papa,” she said in a faux scolding tone, “we mustn’t keep secrets from one another. It’s against the rules. If you persist in your mischievous ways, I will insist you go to the library and sit on the naughty chair.” She put her hands on her hips, trying to look imposing.
He rose an eyebrow at her and suddenly appeared stern, but in a playful manner. Though she knew she wasn’t in any sort of trouble—she had been on her best behavior since the horrid incident with his pocket watch—a heated quiver danced across her bottom cheeks.
“You look beautiful today, Cynny,” he said, his expression relaxing. “You look as if you are glowing, in fact.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek, and as he did so, he placed a small beribboned package in her hands.
“What’s this, Papa?”
“It’s a present for you, my darling little girl. Go ahead. Open it.”
She giggled with delight and unfastened the ribbons, then pried open the delicate paper that covered a small wooden box. She glanced up at Papa, meeting his eyes with a grin, before flipping the lid open to reveal a golden watch with a thick blue ribbon attached to it—a watch intended for a lady. Her heart swelled and tears sprang to her eyes. After all they’d been through—after her fearing he might find out the truth of her past and that she’d indeed stolen his pocket watch—for him to gift her with her very own watch was a most profound declaration of love and forgiveness.
“Oh, Papa. It’s so beautiful.” She clasped it and gently turned it over in her hands, noticing an engraving on the back, which she began to read aloud in a choked whisper. “H. I will love you for all time. P.”
“P is for Papa,” he said. He took the watch from her and fastened the clip attached to the ribbon to her dress. “Now you have your very own watch and hopefully you won’t be tempted to join any street gangs or put your hands into anyone’s pockets ever again,” he said with a soft laugh that warmed her heart further.
“Thank you, Papa. I love it. And I love you.” She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Then her tears began to fall more rapidly, she was so overcome with emotion by his gesture that she was practically sobbing with joy.