Own Me, Daddy (Dangerous Daddy Book 2)

Phoebe took a frightened step backward as Michael ripped off his black robe. Underneath, he was wearing a pair of black cargo pants and a fitted black t-shirt. His muscled chest rose and fell with his harsh, angry breathing. Without thinking, she turned to run.

Snatching her by the upper arm, he pulled her against his hard length. “Bend your ass over that desk.” The words were forced through his clenched teeth in that clipped, abrupt manner of his.

“Wh…what?”

“You heard me, princess. Bend over that desk.”

“You can’t mean to…to—”

“Tan your ass with my belt? You’re damn right I do. You want to act like a petulant child, you will get punished liked one.”

Phoebe’s cheeks heated. His playful spanking the night before had sent illicit tremors up and down her body. Being draped over his lap with his hand on her ass had come dangerously close to her reoccurring fantasy dream of him as a school master disciplining her, the errant school girl. But now…holy shit…he wanted her over the very desk in the very position which featured prominently in her dreams.

Still fantasy was one thing…reality on the other hand…

Shaking her head, she begged him, “Please, Michael. I promise. I’ll leave.”

“It’s too late for that. Bend. Over.”

Giving her a slight shove in the direction of the desk, he released her arm only to unbuckle his black leather belt.

Taking a tentative step toward the desk, she turned to offer one last plea, “Michael, I didn’t mean to defy—”

“No more lies, Phoebe. You did mean to defy me. Deliberately putting yourself in danger. You’re just sorry you got caught. Now if you don’t fucking bend over that desk, I swear to god…”

The rest of his unspoken threat was enough to motivate Phoebe to obey. Her rational mind screamed for her to stop, to run, to scream, to tell him no…but nothing about her feelings for Michael were rational.

Not the speed in which she fell under the spell of his rough charm…and his authoritative manner.

Not her reaction to his mere presence…or even the mention of his name.

This man enthralled her. There was no denying it.

And now after receiving his forgiveness for deceiving him, she had blatantly disregarded his order…the order of the commander of the academy…of her commander.

She deserved this punishment, whether she wanted it or not.

Taking a deep breath, Phoebe laid her cheek on the cool surface of the desk.

“Pull down your pants. I want to see them around your thighs,” he gruffly ordered.

With trembling hands, her fingers dug into the waistband of her simple, black yoga pants. Pulling them over her ass, she shimmied them down till they were wrapped around her lower thighs.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she heard him take a step forward. Unable to suppress a jump when his warm fingers trailed over her lower back, Phoebe bit her lip to keep from crying out. His fingers caressed her back before lifting the thin elastic band of her thong up. Pulling on the bright pink material forced the thin strip of fabric to brush and tighten over her cunt. Phoebe moaned in response as her hips shifted.

He pulled harder.

Phoebe’s lips fell open on a gasp. The pressure on her sensitive clit increased.

She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or upset when the flimsy elastic band snapped. The thong fell to the floor.

The first snap of his belt came without warning.

She heard the crack of the leather before she truly felt it. After a moment’s delay, her skin erupted in burning stings.

“Ow!” she cried out as she stood up in indignation, grasping her injured bottom.

“Down on the desk,” he growled.

Pouting, she resumed the position. Stretching her arms out, she gripped the edge of the desk, bracing for the next strike.

The leather strap cut straight across the middle of her ass. Her skin was on fire. All her senses alert and humming. It was as if the pain were awakening her whole body.

“You will learn to obey my command.”

His emphatic order was followed by another stinging strike from his belt. Phoebe raised up on her toes as she cried out. The belt struck her again. Her whole bottom was tormented with agonizing pricks and stings. Still, the force of his voice, chastising her like the stern school master from her fantasy, the feel of the leather against her skin, the heat rising between her thighs…her hips shifted again. This time it was to grind against the sharp edge of the desk, pushing the rim against her clit, easing the building pressure.

Without thought, she moaned, “Yes, punish me…Daddy.”

She could hear him utter a curse below his breath, then the sound of the metal belt buckle striking the wooden floor. Next there was the scratch from the fabric of his pants as his hips rubbed against her now red and swollen skin. Phoebe bit her lip as pulsing pain mixed with anticipation. In the silence of the classroom, you could hear him lower his zipper. His large hands spanned her hips as he lifted her up onto her toes.

Leaning over her prone body, he whispered into her ear, “Oh, Daddy’s going to punish you, princess.”

She felt the rounded head of his cock moments before his thick shaft pounded into her body straight to the hilt.

Phoebe’s torso wrenched up as her mouth opened on a silent scream. The burning sting of his violent intrusion mingled with the pain from her earlier punishment. Bracing her palms against the desk, her body stayed arched as she rocked forward from the power of his thrusts.

“Oh god, it hurts!” she called out in a broken gasp.

“Good,” he growled as he thrust harder, impaling her on his cock. Forcing her to take every thick inch.

Her body strained to accept him. Phoebe shifted her feet to open her legs wider, easing his entry. The swift movement of his hips caused a delicious friction deep inside her body. God help her, she loved the pain of his hard fucking.

His hand ran up her back to fist into her hair. Pulling roughly, he yanked her head back even further. She was bound and restrained within his grasp. His tongue flicked the sensitive spot below her ear before tracing a path to her shoulder. Phoebe groaned as his sharp teeth sunk into her shoulder. Marking her.

Panting from his powerful exertions, he said, “Don’t ever disobey me again, baby. I couldn’t stand it if I lost you.”

Phoebe closed her eyes against the gathering tears. There was no mistaking the deep emotion in his voice. This large powerful Marine truly cared for her. As impossible and improbable as it sounded given her deception.

Reaching her arm back, she grasped his neck, pulling him closer. “I won’t. I promise. Never again…Commander.”

Her words only spurred him on. Using his grip on her hair, he forced her body back down onto the now warmed surface of the desk before driving into her harder and faster than before.

Her climax was so intense it was almost painful. She was only dimly aware of his own roar of completion before his large strong body fell forward on her own.

She loved the feel of his weight. Shielding her. Protecting her.

Owning her.

“You can’t be serious?”

“Does it look like I’m kidding?”

After her punishment fuck in the classroom, Michael had wrapped her in his black monk robe and carried her across campus to his home. Their movements were shielded by the dark and the chaos of the midshipmen already running about the forest. He had now placed her on the bed and was standing over her with two nylon ties.

“I promised I wouldn’t disobey you! I’ll stay right here,” she pouted.

“Forgive me if I will wait for less dangerous circumstances to test that possibility out,” he sniped back.

They were both thinking on what he had relayed to her during their trek to his home.

His earlier conversation with Mr. Ludtz had confirmed their suspicions. He did have an affair with Mary Bruen. The husband had also suspected that his now unhinged wife had been responsible for his lover’s death but was reluctant to go to the police, feeling enormous guilt over having caused her mental unbalance. He then had shown Michael what Mrs. Ludtz had scratched onto their bedroom wall. It was the symbol of the wendigo.

In her now twisted mind, Mrs. Ludtz had banished a wendigo only to become one herself. It was hard to fathom how a completely normal person could become so unraveled in such a short period of time, but it was the only explanation for the bizarre murders which made sense.

The sheriff had served a search warrant on Mrs. Ludtz based on her husband’s connection to one of the victims but to no avail.

Mrs. Ludtz was nowhere to be found. They did, however, find the empty packaging for a black monk’s robe and a half-eaten liver in the freezer.

The entire police department, which in this small town only meant three officers, was now looking for Mrs. Ludtz to arrest her for murder.

Problem was she was probably hiding somewhere among the midshipmen celebrating mad monk’s night, dressed in an identical black robe.

Getting ready to strike again…at Phoebe.

It would be the perfect night for another murder. A celebration of a past evil. Chaos. Fire. The foreboding evening’s celebration had it all.

“I have every available naval officer on campus as well as the entire police force in black robes scouring the crowd. Given her unstable mental state, we don’t want to alarm her to the search for fear she may do something rash. She would notice if there was a change in the midshipmen’s celebrating, so they haven’t been told. I thought I had seen her by your building which is the reason why I was on hand when you came tearing down the hallway but she ran off when she saw me approach, so now I need to get back out there without having to worry about you. She needs to be found.”

She had already told him about the creepy nursery rhyme. As far has he could tell, Mrs. Ludtz was singing it through the thin, old glass of her window in an effort to draw Phoebe out of the locked room. If Michael had not come along, who knows what might have happened.

Michael knelt on the bed, straddling her. Forcing one arm out sideways, he secured her wrist to the bedpost before doing the same to the other one.

“This is absolutely ridiculous of you,” huffed Phoebe.

It was insane to go along with this, but now knowing that Mrs. Ludtz was not secured in a jail cell as she had assumed and that Michael was needed elsewhere, she felt guilty about her rash actions.

Still.

Michael paused. His large hand cupped her chin. “Do you promise to be a good girl?”

Phoebe nodded.

“I want to hear you say it, babygirl.”

“I promise,” she breathed only somewhat peevishly.

His warm chest brushed her cheek as he leaned over to release her wrists.

“I will tan your pert little hide if you disobey me again,” he said with an exaggerated growl.

She wiggled her hips between his knees in response. Delighting in the sight of his hardening cock.

Taking her by the chin again, he leaned in. “This is serious, Phoebe. Nothing but my responsibilities to those kids would drag me away from you. I can’t go unless I know you will stay put.”

Feeling the tension in his body and seeing the intent look in his eyes, she knew he was struggling between his duty to his men and his worry for her.

“I’m safe. I promise I’ll stay right here. In fact, I’m going to run a bath while you’re gone. You need to go and supervise the search. Besides, she’s just one little old lady how hard could it be to find her?”

“You’re making light of this but the woman is still dangerous and I know she scared the fuck out of you earlier.”

“She’s got nothing on the King of Chinatown,” scoffed Phoebe.

“Who?”

“Nothing. Look, I know you don’t want to go, but we both know you have to and you should. The sooner you go, the sooner you’re back.”

“And when I get back, perhaps I’ll tie you up again,” he whispered against her lips before claiming her mouth in a searing kiss.

His dark words sent a shiver of awareness down her body. Well now…that put a different…utterly delicious…spin on things! It should come as no surprise to her that her domineering Marine would be into a little BDSM…what was surprising, was how much she was enjoying it. There was no denying he liked to manhandle her. Force her to his will. Fuck her almost violently. Punish her.

Own her.

She had to admit she loved it all…even the belting punishment. She loved how she felt claimed by him whenever he touched her, as if she were his possession to own, protect and pleasure.

It was a more intense, heady emotion than she had ever experienced with anyone else. It was no wonder she was already half in love with the man!

It wasn’t a question as to whether she could see a future with him…the question was…after all this Ludtz mess was handled…could he see a future with her?

He cupped her cunt through her yoga pants, pressing the edge of his palm in.

Phoebe bit her lip, her eyes sparking with interest and anticipation.

“I think I could get used to tying you up. I like the idea of restraining all your chaos for my own pleasure.”

“Chaos!” huffed Phoebe with feigned insult.

“Beautiful, intoxicating chaos,” he amended as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “And I am loving every minute of it.”

She blushed as she watched him stand up and once more don the black monk robe. Pulling the hood up, he gave her a seductive wink before heading back into the night.

Phoebe smiled. She was certain the answer was yes…that man could definitely see a future with her too!

Still feeling a tingling between her thighs, Phoebe rose and headed into the bathroom intent on behaving herself and running a bath like she told Michael she would.

He was only gone a few minutes when she heard the sound of his returning footsteps.

“Ha! I knew it! I knew this was a test to see if I would obey without a fuss! I knew you’d come right back,” called out Phoebe triumphantly from the bathroom as she turned to walk back into the bedroom, pleased she had proven to Michael her sole purpose wasn’t to make his life difficult by defying him at every turn.

A black hooded figure appeared in the doorway.

It wasn’t Michael.

Hush now, Phoebe, do not you fear

Never mind, Phoebe, the Mad Monk is near

Mrs. Ludtz began to sing in that sickly child-like voice as she approached Phoebe holding a gun and several zip ties.

Phoebe screamed for help as she realized she was trapped inside the bathroom.

Still Mrs. Ludtz sang.

Never mind, Phoebe, the Mad Monk is near

Lashing out, Mrs. Ludtz grabbed one of her arms with surprising strength, wrenching her forward and jabbing a needle into Phoebe’s neck in one smooth practiced motion.

Phoebe’s last conscious thought was of Michael…and how pissed he was going to be when he returned to find her gone.