More Rules For Cheri (New Rules Book 2)

by Markie Morelli

  “Yes, I guess I did,” he admitted as he turned on the water and filled a paper cup.

  “Can I spank you?” she asked.

  Michael laughed as he handed her the tablets.

  “No, I don’t foresee that ever happening, but nice try, sweetie.”

  “Well, it doesn’t hurt to ask,” Chéri said between tablets.

  When she was done, he took the cup and tossed it in the trash.

  “It could, if you ask for the wrong things,” he replied, tugging her up with his hand.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Let’s just say that if you ever again ask to spank me, you’ll get your little bottom roasted,” he informed her, pulling her toward the stairs.

  “That hardly seems fair,” she sighed, following along behind him. “You don’t even ask if you can spank me, you just do it,” she pointed out grumpily.

  “Because I am the daddy and you’re not, now come along. It’s time for you to have a bath and get ready for bed.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to go to bed, I just said I was tired,” she complained. “Boy, you’re bossy,” she said on a yawn.

  “Yes, and I’m not even trying,” he informed her sardonically. Picking her back up at the bottom of the stairs, he carried her up.

  “Can’t we forget the bath and just cuddle?”

  “No we cannot. All little girls have a bath before bed.”

  “No they don’t.”

  “Chéri, do you want me to spank you?” he asked curiously as he entered her room.

  “Of course not, I just want you to hold me. I already told you that, Daddy,” she stated, looking at him as though he was feeble minded, hard of hearing, or both.

  “And I will hold you, but not until you’ve had your bath and something for dinner. You already said you didn’t have any lunch. Now stand here and be a good girl while I start your bath.”

  “Okay,” she sighed. “Boy, I hope it’s not going to be one of those nights,” she called into the bathroom.

  “It very well could be, if you don’t behave,” he replied, shouting over the sound of the water.

  A few minutes later, he came for her, undressed her quickly and led her into the bathroom, steamy with the scent of lavender.

  “Oh, my favorite,” she said, letting her shoulders relax. “You are a good daddy.”

  “I’m trying to be a patient one,” he answered as he helped her into the tub.

  “That didn’t sound patient.” Sinking into the water she smiled and closed her eyes. He didn’t respond, just took up a wash cloth and began to bathe her. In her opinion, it didn’t take him nearly long enough, and before she knew it, he was hurrying her out of the tub.

  “Was that the fastest bath in history, or what?” she complained.

  “Chéri, I know you’re tired. You’ve had a trying day. I’m struggling not to lose my temper. However, that is the last of your wise ass remarks I’m prepared to overlook. Now keep still and let me get you dried off and into your nightgown.”

  “Sorry, Daddy,” she said, looking at her toes.

  His reply was a humph. He made her put her slippers on and he brushed her hair before taking her hand and leading her downstairs.

  “Aren’t you going to clean up the bathroom?” she asked innocently.

  “No, I am going to feed you and myself and hope for a reasonably quiet evening.”

  “I said I wasn’t hungry.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Can I have coffee?” she asked as she plodded along behind him.

  “No.”

  “Geesh.”

  He shot her a look, but didn’t scold. In the kitchen, he helped her onto a stool.

  Quickly and efficiently, Michael made a sandwich for himself and warmed up some vegetable soup for her. For the first time since walking in the door, his wife remained quiet, watching him.

  Placing the soup on the island, he slid it towards her and placed a spoon and napkin beside it.

  “Do you want some crackers?”

  “I don’t even want this,” she replied, starting to slide from her stool.

  “Sit down,” he ordered sternly. “Unless your tummy feels sick, you are having something for dinner, even if it’s just a little.

  He watched her face, saw her eyes narrow the tiniest bit and understood immediately. She was testing him. Swiftly, he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from his pants with a snick. Satisfaction swept through him when she scooted back onto the stool and looked at him with wary eyes.

  “No, Daddy, I’ll eat some,” she quickly promised. “Please, not the belt.

  Michael ignored her comments and moved behind her. Placing the belt around her hips he secured it behind the back of the stool. Chéri could not reach the buckle.

  “Consider this your temporary highchair,” he said smoothly. “Now eat, or I’ll feed you myself.”

  She frowned at him and tried once again to touch the buckle, then she leaned slightly forward, placed her elbow on the island and rested her chin on the palm of her hand.

  “Feed me, Daddy,” she whispered.

  Her eyes were closed, there was a slight blush on her cheeks and her lips held the barest hint of a smile. He took in her tousled blonde hair and the softness that seemed to settle over her. Moving his chair to the end of the island next to her, he picked up the spoon and dipped it in the soup, placing it against her lips. They opened like a little bird and she allowed him inside.

  Chéri opened her green eyes and looked into his. He put another spoonful of soup in her mouth. Suddenly, he knew. Without a word being spoken, he knew.

  “You’re all in, aren’t you, babygirl,” he said gently, wiping her mouth with the napkin.

  She nodded solemnly and held his gaze.

  “I burned my bridges today, Daddy. Now you have to take care of me. I’m a little scared,” she admitted. Her voice trembled and she looked away for the first time.

  Michael wanted to shout with joy. He wanted to jump up and do some kind of crazy happy dance. This was the ultimate surrender. The final piece of his broken pride clicked into place and it was all he could do to keep his cool and stop his chest from bursting the buttons on his shirt. Instead, he calmly refilled the spoon and pressed it to her lips.

  “You have nothing to be worried about, baby. I will take care of you, in every possible way,” he assured her in his firm, judge’s voice. In reality, he felt like shrieking like some hormonal teenager who’d just won the hand of the prom queen. However, that reaction would not inspire the trust and obedience he required. No, she needed consistency, a firm hand and a daddy who would push her limits and see to her needs. That was exactly what he’d promised and exactly what she was going to get. A new door was opening for them. He would carry her through it, strong and with his masculine pride intact. It was a heady feeling.

  He’d been feeding her while his mind worked frantically. Finally, she turned her head away.

  “I’m full,” she said, and looking at the bowl, he could see it was almost empty.

  “Good girl,” he praised. Getting up, he got her a small glass of milk and resumed his seat, quickly eating his sandwich. Chéri waited patiently until he was done before asking to be released.

  “Finish your milk,” he said, taking his plate to the sink.

  He caught her small frown, but she did as he asked without complaint. Walking behind her, he unbuckled his belt and helped her down. Then he refastened it around the stool. He could see the anxious look on her face.

  “Some daddies feel the need to keep a belt handy,” he remarked as he put their dishes in the dishwasher and wiped off the island. “Go and wait in the living room for me. We have a couple of things to discuss.”

  She was gone before he turned around and he finally allowed his smile to escape.

  He found her on the couch, curled up in the corner and motioned her to him after he sat down. Obediently, Chéri crawled onto his lap, placing her head in the curve of his arm.

  �
�I want you to make your coffee at work half regular and half decaf for a couple of weeks,” he said, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. “Eventually, you will be able to get off caffeine, but we need to work on it slower. You are never again to drive home from work so tired you can barely keep your eyes open. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she replied.

  “I mean it, Chéri. If anything like that happens again, you are to call me immediately. If I can’t get there, I will arrange for another ride. I know I said this morning that I can be flexible on some things. This isn’t one of them. Come in the door like that again, and I will make sure your bottom is so sore you won’t be able to sit to drive.”

  Chéri bit her lip and nodded.

  “On Saturday we are going to Mark and Susan’s for lunch,” he informed her.

  “Why?”

  “Because we’ve been invited and I accepted.”

  “But why were we invited?” she asked pointedly.

  “It’s really not your place to ask,” he replied. “You are the baby, and I am the daddy, so you will do as I say in any case. This one time I will explain myself to you, but don’t expect it on a regular basis.

  “Mark has made it clear to me he and Susan have a similar relationship. I thought it might help to have some friends who are like minded, and that you might want to talk to Susan now and then. It’s not as though you can call up one of your friends and they can commiserate with you when you’ve been punished for misbehaving.

  “Not that I want you sharing every bit of our personal lives, but if you feel the need to talk to someone who understands, Susan might be a good choice. Of course, I’d much rather you came to me with all your problems and concerns, but having another option might be nice too, especially one who understands where you’re coming from. If you don’t feel that way about it, we’ll have a nice lunch and that will be that.”

  “I see.”

  “No pressure, sweetheart. This is your choice. One of the few you’ll have,” he said, kissing her nose. “Now, let’s get you up to bed.”

  “But it’s only 8:30,” she protested.

  “Yes, it is, and I haven’t yet decided on a regular bedtime for you, but I can see you’re sleepy. Besides, Daddy has a few things to do after you go to sleep and a few to do before,” he said with a grin and a light smack to her bottom.

  Chéri yelped and hopped off his lap, rubbing her bottom as though he’d really swatted her. Rolling his eyes at her dramatics he wrapped an arm around her waist and urged her along. Upstairs, he stood her by the side of their bed and unbuttoned her nightgown down to her waist. Then he pulled down the covers and arranged her on her side, facing the outside of the bed.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, going into the bathroom.

  When he returned she’d pulled the covers over her and closed her eyes. He smiled and pulled them back down, moving her gown above her waist before he climbed in behind her, naked.

  “My baby has such lovely little nipples,” he purred in her ear once he’d spooned her tightly to him. “I love to play with them, tugging and pinching. They get so nice and hard. It’s almost as though they are pouting,” he teased as he plucked each one in turn.

  Her bottom twitched as he toyed with her, pressing against him even though she was pretending she was going to sleep.

  “I’ll bet they’re nicely puckered and rosy,” he said, tugging a bit harder. “So sweet. Daddy loves the way you try not to press your bottom against him, how you pretend you’re not interested, when he knows for a fact when he moves your legs and reaches between them you’ll be so very wet.”

  He suited his actions to his words, lifting her top leg and pulling it back and over his hip.

  “See,” he sighed, “Just as Daddy suspected, his babygirl is warm and slippery,” he crooned, moving his hand to cup her mound. “Open for Daddy, sweetheart, open his sweet little kitty up nice and wide. He wants to go all the way in without any fuss and he doesn’t want to take the time to stretch you first. Be a good girl now,” he ordered a bit sternly, loving the shiver that coursed through her.

  The breathy little moans that escaped her lips when he lined up the head of his cock with her opening and surged forward were nearly as pleasurable as the tight feel of her sheath. His hand, cupping her tightly, prevented her from moving away as he pressed all the way in, anchoring her in place.

  Lord, all the years he’d spent tip-toeing around her, hoping for a little sex, a little tenderness seemed a lifetime away. There was no way he could have known such a passionate woman lurked beneath that cold, brittle exterior, just waiting for him to take a stand. Now she quivered and shook in his arms at the least sign she’d displeased him. All he needed to do was let his deep voice wash over her in warning and she was on fire, burning for his commanding touch, his firm control.

  “Don’t squeeze me, baby. Daddy wants to fuck you for a long time,” he warned. “Remember what I taught you. When I say open, I want you to relax that precious little kitty and tight ass.”

  “It’s so hard, Daddy,” she whimpered, grinding back against him as his fingers spread her lower lips and dallied between them.

  “I know, baby, but if you don’t mind Daddy, he’ll have to punish you. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” he drawled in her ear.

  “No,” she cried breathlessly.

  It wasn’t true, of course. She loved being punished and made to obey him. Oh, she cried and carried on, that was to be expected, and at first, it was difficult for him to be stern with her. As time went on, he realized the more demanding and strict he was, the more sinfully wet and passionate she became. Even when he’d probed her bottom with that deliciously thick and intrusive instrument, which cost him a pretty penny, she’d come undone as he removed it.

  Yes, his babygirl was a beautiful bundle of contradictions, pleading for mercy one moment, begging for more the next. How he loved this woman who made his life so complete. How blessed he was that she’d given herself to him so freely, despite her fears, or maybe because of them. Fear was a powerful motivator. Her uncertainty in not knowing what he would subject her body to next excited them both and kept him on his toes thinking of new ways to torment, tease and please her.

  Slowly, he manipulated her swollen clit, stroking the tip for a moment and then moving away to slide along one side, then the other. Her body was warm, sweet and she soon caught on that when she tightened her vaginal muscles he danced away from the spot that brought her the most pleasure.

  He fucked her firmly, thrusting and withdrawing at his own pace. Her toes dug into his calf and the mattress, trying to find purchase so she could control things, but it didn’t work. No, his hand and cock controlled her pleasure. She was helpless, but for what he allowed her to do.

  “Please, Daddy,” she finally begged.

  “Does my sweet girl want to come?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’ll do anything,” she sobbed out.

  “Then hold still, little one. Not one squeeze, not one wiggle,” he warned. “I want you to simply lie quietly in my arms and let me have my way. Relax your kitty, your body, every part of you. I want you to feel soft in my hands, so soft.”

  “But, Daddy, when I come I won’t be able to stop,” she wailed.

  “I know, and I want to feel each and every contraction. I want to feel you quivering around my cock, your body clutching mine in the most intimate way. I want to feel your climax, own it, savor it. Do you understand?” he ground out as he pushed as deeply as he could.

  “No, no I don’t understand,” she keened.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he insisted. “Just do as I say or I’ll spank you and make you,” he warned huskily. He felt her soften on a sigh, felt her pussy loosen and her limbs go limp. Still he stayed in place, deeply embedded inside her warmth. Then his fingers settled on the top of her clit and waited until he felt she’d complied to the best of her ability.

  Softly, he began to stroke her, carefully building a stea
dy pressure that soon had her crying out with each rub. His touch was light, teasing, tormenting and she stayed with him, her breathing ragged as she fought to obey him. It was stunning and humbling at the same time.

  “Please, Daddy, please,” she screamed.

  “All right, my little love,” he cooed before applying just the right amount of pressure. He knew her body so very well, knew what she loved, knew what would send her over the edge and he worked her. “You must come now, baby,” he commanded with a crisp little slap to her clit.

  Chéri shattered and he sucked it all in like a hungry sponge. He held her in place, kept his cock perfectly still and absorbed each and every grasp. Her cries of release were the sweetest music; her gasping breaths made him harder still. It was remarkable, magical and he fought off his own need to fuck her in strong hard strokes as she convulsed around him, shaking in his arms uncontrollably. It was as though he’d never felt her orgasms before, only his own, always so caught up in his own pleasure. Tonight he realized the wonder of hers, the beauty of it all and felt as though he’d discovered the secrets of the universe and maybe he had. The ultimate pleasure was bringing your woman, your baby to glorious, screaming orgasm and feeling every second of it. Never had he felt so strong, so masculine, so empowered.

  He stroked her chilled, sweaty tummy, her naked thigh thrown over his. His hands roamed her breasts, touching her still hard nipples softly. Then he lodged his thick finger between the lips of her pussy and pulled her back, tighter than ever and fucked her in sure strong strokes. Each time he moved, he rubbed against her sensitive clit and very soon she was crying out again. This time he did not stop, nor try to control either her or himself. This time he rode her hard, filling her over and over until she absorbed all he had to give.

  His teeth tingled, his toes curled and he roared out his pleasure as he held her tightly to him, whispering her name, babygirl, over and over as he kissed her head, her cheek, her shoulder.

  When he was finally able to pull away, she was breathing softly, already asleep. It was all he could do to drag himself out of bed.