Sadie's Little Christmas - Maren Smith Page 0,13
over.
“It’s boring.”
“Important things usually are. I doubt you’d pay any closer attention to the necessary legalese even if I made one with pictures you could color.”
“I’m not a little girl. I don’t color.”
“When was the last time you tried?”
She glanced up long enough to frown at him and cheekily answered, “When was the last time you colored?”
“Four days ago,” he promptly replied.
She snapped upright, contract momentarily forgotten.
“Liar,” she accused. “You did not.”
“Lies aren’t tolerated at Rawhide Ranch,” he told her, more amused than offended by the accusation. “Lies erode away the bedrock of what could otherwise be a stable, loving Daddy Dom/Little girl relationship, and there are serious consequences outlined on page two for those who utter them.”
“Are you going to yell at me if I turn the page and look?”
“Are you done reading the page you’re on?”
Scowling, she bent back over the contract.
“You keep distracting me.”
Oh, his palm was itching, and he only just kept from chuckling out loud. He liked this little peek she was showing of her sassy side. Keeping his mouth shut, he let her read uninterrupted. When she finally reached the bottom of the page, she rolled her eyes up to give him a pointed glare. Even more pointedly, she turned the top paper over, then went back to reading.
He knew when she found the consequences section because her eyes got big, her breathing grew swift and shallow, a bright flush of pink stole up into her face, and she squirmed. He doubted she knew she was doing any of it, but his gaze didn’t miss a one of those tells.
“What if I don’t want my mouth washed out with soap?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Then, don’t lie. The choice to misbehave is yours. How it’s dealt with is mine,” he replied, loving how her eyebrows came crashing back down into the most blatant ‘well, that’s just stupid’ glare he’d received in a very long time. He also didn’t miss noting mouth soaping was very nearly the last item on that list of consequences, and she hadn’t uttered a single objection to any of the other punishments, including spanking, figging, or butt plugs.
His cock stirred, and it was only by sheer force of will he managed to stop himself from shifting in his chair as well.
She went back to reading. It was several minutes before she found her next point of contention.
“It won’t cost me anything at all? My whole stay here?”
“Not so much as a penny,” he confirmed. “But then, you won’t be staying in the hotel, and there will be parts of the resort that will be off-limits to you unless I or someone of my choosing is with you.”
“Why?” The look she gave him said she knew exactly what he was about to say and was already objecting to it. He said it anyway.
“Because Little boys and girls aren’t allowed to go wandering by themselves, and when they break that rule, they are brought here to my office so me and my little friend,”—Scarface he wasn’t, but the short paddle he took out of his desk drawer and laid on the surface between them still got her attention—“can ensure they never forget that rule again.”
Her breath caught again as she stared at it. The flush of pink only grew hotter in her cheeks, and the faint glaze that stole through her lovely gray eyes wasn’t born of fear. Fascination and reluctance warred across her features before she was finally able to tear her gaze away.
She licked her lips. “I-I-I’m not a little girl.”
Oh, yes, she was. She was absolutely a Little. He was every bit as sure of that fact as he was that she would both look and feel fantastic pinned across his knee, with her pants and underwear tangled around her wildly kicking feet, and her lilting voice pitched into frantic sobs for him to please, please stop, while he turned her naughty bottom cheeks the same hot shade of pink now rushing to stain her northern set.
“Are you sure?” he asked, low and even, determined not to sound anywhere near as breathlessly aroused as he was.
Swallowing hard, she nodded.
“Well, then, you should have no trouble obeying the rules, should you? Adults who don’t know how to be naughty don’t have to worry about Mr. Paddle smacking their bottoms until they are very, very sorry. Do they?”
Her breasts heaved under the thin cotton of her pale t-shirt, her lips were parted, and her eyes even more glazed than before.
“Do