"Now… the real punishment," he smirked.
"Your ass, let's check."
His eyes darkened as he looked her over.
"Don't look at me, Ivy. Face the damn mirror. If you turn even once, a spanking follows, so don't dare."
He drawled every word slowly, deliberately, his gaze roaming over her body with open hunger before he continued.
"Lose the strap of your gown now.
Mm, no. Just loosen it to your waist. Let those pretty breasts stay exposed."
He fell silent, watching.
Slowly and deliberately, she lifted her fingers to the strap.
Her movements were unhurried, almost teasing. The fabric slid down inch by inch until it rested at her waist, baring her breasts fully.
His eyes followed her fingers like they were the only thing in the room.
His throat bobbed as he gulped, surprise flickering across his face, not because she obeyed, but because she did it willingly. His body reacted instantly, heat pooling low as he hardened beneath his control.
"You're surprised, Daddy," she teased with a soft laugh.
She bit her lower lip gently, watching him through the mirror.
He stood there, momentarily speechless.
"Has the cat got your tongue, Kace?"
He shook his head slightly, embarrassed despite the smirk tugging at his lips.
"Then tie the strap around your waist."
"Why?" she asked innocently.
"As expected, my wifey can never forget her why habits." He raised a brow.
"Because I said so, Ivy. Do it."
"Whatever."
She tied the strap around her waist, covering her breasts shyly.
He huffed, clearly unimpressed.
"That looks ridiculous."
Before she could react, he pulled her hands away from her chest, gripping her wrists firmly.
"Unless you want me to tie your hands to the nail on that wall, behave, little moonlight."
"You wouldn't," she laughed, swatting at his hands as she tried to cover herself again.
"Try me."
His voice dropped, serious now, daring her.
She sighed in surrender.
"Okay… you win."
She removed her hands and placed them against the mirror, using it to support herself.
"I haven't even started and you already need support," he said slowly.
"What will you do if I really begin, Ivy? Will you be able to…"
"Take off your shirt," she cut in, irritation lacing her voice.
"I can't be the only one taking mine off."
He froze.
This was the first time his shy wife had ever told him that. Normally she waited, innocent and quiet, letting him decide. Damn. He really was making progress with her.
A slow smile spread across his face. He leaned in, pressing a soft peck to her cheek before pulling back with a smirk.
"Finally asking," he murmured.
"After all that stressful teaching on how to please me, little moonlight."
He smacked his lips, his grin turning dangerous.
"Why don't I take everything off?"
"Suit yourself, pervert," she replied casually, though inside she was shaking with nerves and excitement.
"Your pervert," he whispered into her ear, slow and sensual.
She shivered.
He stepped back, undressing without haste, tossing his clothes somewhere in the bathroom.
This time he was naked, and she was not. Not yet.
"Maybe," she muttered, cheeks burning when she caught him stealing glances at her breasts.
Her body was on fire. Everything about him drove her crazy. His calm voice, his broad chest, and God, the heavy length between his legs. She was embarrassingly wet.
He could not stop staring at her. Those perfect, round breasts were calling to him. He wanted to bend her over the tub, suck them until she was breathless and gasping. The way her face flushed pink only made it worse.
But today was not about pleasure.
It was about punishment.
He composed himself when he noticed her staring back, clearly curious about his thoughts.
She flashed him a sly smile before quickly coughing, trying to play it off.
He smiled softly. He knew. She was already soaked, and she knew his smile had done that to her.
Clearing his throat, his voice turned calm, possessive, commanding.
"Not maybe, baby. I belong to you, so I am yours to ruin and play with. You just have not realized how much power you have over me yet."
He added quietly,
"And I did not tell you to face me, Ivy."
A rosy tint flooded her face, turning her cheeks the color of fresh roses. She tapped his chin playfully, her voice sweet.
"I cannot help it, darling. You are so hot and pretty naked."
Her gaze dropped shamelessly to him, and she licked her lips.
"Uh… um… now turn to the mirror," he said.
She obeyed, watching through the glass as he lifted her dress to her waist.
"Hold it nicely for me, little moonlight."
She rolled her eyes but did as told.
His fingers slid over her panties, tracing slowly before pressing firmly against her. A moan slipped from her lips, then another as he applied more pressure.
Her eyes accidentally left the mirror.
The sound came immediately.
A sharp slap, not on her ass, but directly against her pussy.
She screamed, loud and broken, shame washing over her as she soaked the fabric beneath his hand.
"Fuck," he chuckled darkly.
"Looks like your body loves this punishment. You are getting wetter instead of crying."
He pinched her pouty cheek teasingly. She swatted his hand away, forcing her eyes back to the mirror.
His next words left her breathless.
"Should I rip it or not?"
Recovering from the shock, she stuttered,
"Uh… fuck…"
She only heard the sound of fabric tearing, her panties ripped cleanly to the floor.
She gasped, staring at him through the mirror, completely lost for words.
"It's a yes or no, Ivy. Not uh," he said softly, smirking at the annoyed look on his little moonlight's face.
Fuck, she looked so cute like this, pouting like an angry bunny.
"At least inform me when you're ripping it off," she scoffed, huffing in irritation.
"Really?" he said with a lazy grin. "Why would I bother informing someone who can't even bring herself to say the word panties".
He laughed softly, clearly amused by himself.
"Let alone react when I so much as mention them."
She rolled her striking emerald eyes, a quiet hiss slipping past her lips, equal parts annoyed and embarrassed, while his laughter only deepened at her reaction.
Her gaze dropped to her dripping heat. She was embarrassingly wet, fully exposed now.
A shiver ran through her as cold breeze brushed against her core, forcing her to close her legs tightly.
Two harsh slaps landed directly there.
"Ahhhhh, Kace, please," she cried, shaking as she struggled to stand properly. At least she still had the mirror to support her, even though her legs remained tightly closed.
"Open it, Ivy," he murmured.
That calm, husky, possessive voice only made her wetter.
"What…" she tried to speak, but three more harsh slaps followed.
"Jesus, Kacy," she moaned loudly, tears threatening to spill. She was dripping uncontrollably, her slick rolling down her thighs.
"It's fucking wet and dripping, Ivy," he whispered.
"You're not trying to deprive Daddy of his appetizer, are you, little moonlight?"
His hot breath fanned against her bare skin as he forced her legs apart wider.
"Please, Kacy… ahhhh… fuck," she gasped. "Your breath… please stop talking."
She turned her face to look at him, desperate and breathless.
"Then don't look at me, Ivy. Look at the fucking mirror," he ordered calmly.
"And hands off the mirror. Now."
He whispered again, closer this time, his breath harsher, hotter. She whimpered and instinctively tried to close her legs again.
Five sharp slaps landed on her ass, followed by three more on her sensitive heat. He didn't give her time to recover. She could barely moan once before the next strike came.
She was a mess, moaning helplessly as another slap followed.
"Kacy… please," she cried.
"Stop staring, Ivy, and obey," he said calmly.
"Please, Kacy, I will obey. Stop…" she begged.
His hands cupped her round ass, squeezing hard before delivering more slaps. This time tears spilled freely, tears of pleasure. Her legs shook violently, enough to make her collapse against the tub if he hadn't been holding her waist firmly.
"If you will obey," he whispered seductively into her ear, "then open your legs wider."
He tilted his head and bit her earlobe gently.
Nervous and scared, she opened her legs wider.
"Wider, little moonlight," he yelled near her ear.
She did.
"More wider."
She glared at him through the mirror, wondering just how much wider he expected.
"Kacyyyy, please," she begged, but still obeyed, spreading her legs further.
"Hands off the mirror and eyes off me", he commanded, his voice low and sharp, leaving no room for argument.
"I'm going to fall," she protested, pouting, hoping to soften him.
"You won't, baby. Now off," he replied, raising a brow at her mischief.
She slowly removed her hands from the mirror, holding them awkwardly in the air. He watched her with a sly smile.
"So where am I supposed to hang my hands?" she asked.
"Should I pity you?" he smirked, grabbing her chin gently.
He kissed her deeply, harshly, their tongues colliding as saliva mixed. She quivered, shaking and breathless, trying to pull away, but he only pushed his tongue deeper before finally releasing her after biting and sucking her lips thoroughly.
"Please do, my Lord," she whispered, husky and breathless, her voice cracked from the brutal kiss.
"Really?" he asked, staring at her in surprise.
Just when he thought he understood her, she switched again. He expected her to argue, not submit so easily.
"Anything for your pity," she said softly, her innocent eyes pleading.
"Little moonlight," he laughed, face palming.
She loved his laughter. It was deep, warm, and dangerously attractive, making her even wetter.
"Oh God, good thing you laughed," she sighed. "At least I know you won't kill me today."
"But paralyze you for a day," he replied, winking.
Her face instantly turned red.
"Jerk," she huffed, glaring at him.
"My specialty," he laughed, smiling so intoxicating that her glare melted.
"Nice, husband," she said sarcastically, pouting.
"Whatever," he sighed. "Wrap it around my neck."
"Thanks," she said happily, giving him a quick peck before seductively wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Now," he murmured, voice possessive and commanding, "shall we take care of your needy pussy?"
"Eyes to the mirror, little moonlight."
"Yes, Daddy," she replied softly.
She turned to face the mirror again. Her eyes stayed forward, though she sneaked a quick glance at his lips. He looked surprised for a second but masked it with playfulness.
He spread her open and slid just three fingers inside her.
She was already floating, lost in a haze of pleasure and desperate need, trembling under his control.
She moaned loudly, tears slipping freely down her cheeks.
"Go softly… please," she murmured, staring up at him with those wide, pleading eyes.
For a moment, he said nothing. Then he nodded once, silently.
"And what do I get in return?" he asked calmly, a slow wink following.
"My all," she replied without hesitation, without doubt.
A low smile curved his lips.
"Now that's a nice bargain."
He started slow, deliberately gentle, giving her time to adjust to the new sensation, watching every reaction with quiet focus.
"Next time," he whispered, eyes locked on hers, "not so soft, baby."
He searched her gaze for fear or resistance, but found none. Only nerves. Only anticipation.
She looked away, breath hitching under the weight of his stare.
"Mmhmm," was all she managed to say, waiting.
"Good girl," he murmured.
He patted her head softly, almost tender, before his hand slid upward, squeezing her breast firmly, grounding her there. Then he lowered himself, unhurried, claiming her attention fully.
He took his time, slow at first, then deeper, stronger, until her body forgot how to breathe properly.
His mouth worked her relentlessly, his tongue driving her higher while his fingers held her steady, kept her open, kept her helpless.
She cried out, shaking beneath him.
"Ahhhh… please, Kacy… please, I need more," she begged, breathless and broken.
"More, little moonlight?" he whispered against her, voice dark, encouraging, never stopping.
"Yes… more," she sobbed. "Please… more."
He pulled her closer, increasing the pressure, sucking harder, devouring her sensitivity while his hands roamed her body, pinching, groping, owning every inch of her until she was nothing but sound and trembling.
She was a beautiful mess beneath him.
"Now," he murmured softly, almost thoughtfully, "shall we add your favorite chocolate soap and make my appetizer even sweeter?"
"Yes, baby," she answered instantly, excitement breaking through her exhaustion.
He poured the foaming chocolate soap into the water, watching it swirl and darken, turning the bath into a rich, brown haze.
A handful of the scented foam rested against her, sliding along her slick as he positioned the shower head.
Slowly, deliberately, he returned his attention to her, pressing his mouth over her dripping pussy and guiding the water in with precise control.
Her moans grew louder, spilling out uncontrollably, high and desperate, like a little girl lost in sensation.
Tears ran down her cheeks, her lips swollen and reddened from her own cries. Her skin was flushed, every inch of her hot and trembling under his touch.
She looked completely undone, a beautiful mess of desire and need.
And the sight only made him want her more.
"Fuck… not that… ahhh," she cried, voice breaking. Every time he eased up, the need became unbearable, worse than torture.
He didn't stop until she was shaking, breathless, begging incoherently.
"I want you so badly, Kacy," she whispered, wrecked.
"Of course you do," he teased calmly. "You've wanted me all along."
"Please… stop the shower… ahhh… fuck… head," she cried, voice breaking as her body trembled uncontrollably.
He didn't answer her.
He kept his focus on her, slow and unrelenting, until she was shaking too hard to think.
Even when she was finally clean, her body betrayed her, slick still slipping down her thighs no matter how much she tried to steady herself.
"Fuck," he groaned softly.
"You're sweet… like vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate all mixed together."
His words alone made her whimper.
"Fuck, baby… I want you so much more."
She cried out again as the sensation returned, overwhelming, consuming.
Her pleas turned incoherent, her voice raw as pleasure overtook everything else.
The water rose around them, warmth and steam wrapping her in a haze until she could barely keep her head upright.
Finally, mercifully, he stopped.
The water cut off.
Her strength disappeared with it.
She collapsed against him instantly, clinging to his body as if it were the only thing holding her together.
Her lips found his skin everywhere. His chest, his tattoos, his abs, his jaw, his lips.
She kissed him desperately, gratefully, like she needed him just to breathe.
She started to move lower, instinctively wanting to return the favor.
He caught her gently but firmly.
"No," he said softly. "You need rest, Ivy. Not now."
He brushed her hair back, voice low and sure.
"Next time, I promise… I'll make you take all of me."
Her cheeks burned as she wrapped herself around him, breathing heavily against his chest.
"I just want to pleasure you," she whispered after a while.
"You will," he replied quietly. "Soon."
He smiled faintly.
"But when the time comes, you'll beg me to let you go… and I won't."
He kissed her forehead, teasing gently.
"For now, enjoy your free day. I'm satisfied after tasting my appetizer."
Her face turned even redder.
He helped her clean up carefully, gently this time. He didn't push her to the edge again.
She needed rest. Only for now.
Later, he tugged her into bed, patting her softly until her breathing evened out.
She fell asleep with a small pout on her lips, looking like a porcelain doll.
He leaned down and kissed her gently, barely there, so she wouldn't wake.
Damn he was a fucked-up man.
And he loved her more than anything.
He was completely, madly, helplessly in love with her.
His little moonlight.
His Ivy.
And soon… he was going to tell her.