Her Outlaw Daddy

by Jane Henry

  She nodded briefly before she pulled away.

  Monty would burn in hell for what he’d done. But if Cole had his way, he’d pay long before then.

  * * *

  “Tell me there’s more than beans and cornbread,” Aida mumbled, her lips pursed.

  She’d endured the raucous meal, as Monty and his gang regaled Cole’s crew with tales of their most recent exploits. Aida was no doubt horrified by their deplorable manners. Cole couldn’t help being rarely sickened himself. God almighty, who ate with one side of his mouth and chewed tobacco with the other? Disgusting.

  He was so intent on keeping an eye on Monty and his men that he’d nearly forgotten Aida was there. She’d sat quietly by his side, but as he glanced at her now, he noted the flash of her eyes, the thinned lips, her arms tucked tight against her chest. And damn, if she got any closer to him she’d be sitting in his lap.

  Still, she couldn’t be allowed to carry on with such comments. Cole fixed her with a stern look. “Beans and cornbread fill our bellies,” he said in a low voice, so that he wouldn’t be overheard. “And you’ll eat what you’re given without griping.”

  She scoffed, tossing her head. “Where I’m from, we eat a varied diet,” she said, her teeth gritted.

  What the hell was she playing at? Did the girl want her backside blistered? He reached for her chin and drew her face to his, tilting her head up, his fingers grasping firmly enough she winced.

  He leaned in so he could whisper in her ear, “Where I come from, little girls do as they’re told unless they want to be taken across their daddy’s lap.”

  She yanked her chin away from him and looked away. Shit. She was pulling this now? He scraped the last of his food with his spoon and ate it quickly, before he stood and handed his bowl and Aida’s to Doc. He took her by the hand and squeezed, pulling her so that she stood close by his side.

  Her lips were still pursed, and she continued muttering. “Crick in my neck the size of a goose egg. Filthy men who eat with their mouths open. My dress needs a good scrub, and this coffee is the worst swill I’ve ever downed in my life.” She tried fruitlessly to pull her hand away from his, but he held fast. He’d not abide brats at any time, least of all at a time when her safety was in a precarious position. Cole held tight to her hand and clenched his jaw.

  “Aida, you mind your tongue,” he ordered.

  To his surprise, she finally yanked her hand away from him, planted both hands on her hips, and glared. “No.”

  A sudden flash of shock hit him a split second before his instincts kicked in. Didn’t matter what had gotten into the little brat. Didn’t matter who was there, or that they had a schedule to keep. She needed a firm hand. She needed a good, hard spanking to get her head on straight. His gaze flitted to his strap before he turned his head, narrowing his eyes on the thin branches of a nearby birch. The strap would be loud and draw unwanted attention. He needed something that would be quiet and sting enough to make a good, lasting impression.

  Doc eyed him wordlessly as he stacked the dirty bowls. Cole tucked Aida by his side, and marched her past the rest of the men. Junior stood with his arms crossed, his eyes focused on Monty in undisguised hatred. At least they’d be able to get by him without raising his goddamn protective instincts of all things feminine. Justice sat close enough to Monty’s crew that one would think he was one of them, laughing his fool head off at something one of Monty’s men was saying to him. The sight set Cole’s nerves on edge. It might do well to feign friendship, but he wondered how much Justice was actually feigning. He was not amused by the fact that her behavior was taking him away from what he needed to do here, with his men. She’d get another good round for that.

  “Let go of my hand,” Aida hissed.

  He held her hand harder. “One more word, little girl,” he warned. “One more word and I’ll bare your backside in front of all of them.”

  He regretted the words the second they left his mouth, as Cole never made idle threats. But he’d spoken too soon. He didn’t want to bare her in front of the other men, but now that he’d said it, he would follow through, if only because he was a man of his word. Better to teach her he meant what he said than risk her losing the edge of fear she’d been taught in the short time they’d been together. But fortunately, the threat had the desired effect, and she fell into silent but furious step beside him.

  “We’ll be back soon,” he muttered to Doc, who merely nodded and continued scraping the dishes clean. Cole felt the eyes of Monty and his crew on his back, but he continued dragging her along with him down to a secluded area, wooded but dimly lit with moonlight.

  “You’re hurting my hand,” she protested, trying again to pull away.

  “Darlin’, I’m gonna hurt more than your hand.”

  “You brute!” she said in a furious whisper.

  “At your service,” he replied with a dark chuckle. “And you’re a brat, so don’t we make a pair.”

  “Let go!” she said, trying again to pull away, and she even kicked her foot at him. They were now a good enough distance away from the rest of the crew, so he no longer had to endure her childish fits in silence. He spun her around and gave her two rapid swats over her clothed bottom, which made her stomp the ground, but he held fast. Dragging her to a tall white birch tree, he pushed her so that her back was up against it. Her eyes flashed at him, splotches of angry red on her cheeks as she glared.

  His own anger rose as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Young lady, you’ve earned yourself a good lickin’. You’ll stand here until I call you to me, and if you move, I’ll finish our little talk tonight with a good round with my strap.” He paused and dropped his voice. “If you think I’m lyin’, darlin’, try me.”

  Though she still glared at him, she stayed put as he drew a knife from his belt and cut a good-sized switch from the birch, thin and supple, long enough to leave a lasting impression when he took her over his knee. He remembered from his boyhood the schoolmaster’s fondness for the birch; the sting that would last for hours after a switching. It would do well. He quickly stripped and prepared the switch, lashing it through the air against his palm to test it. Satisfied that it packed a good sting, he beckoned to Aida.

  “Come here,” he growled. That she’d taken him away from keeping his eye on Monty was no small infraction. He’d get to the bottom of why she’d been so defiant after he blistered her backside.

  Still holding her chin erect, she marched over to him angrily, stomping on the leaves and twigs until she stood in front of him. Again, he wondered if her defiance was intentional. She knew he wouldn’t abide such behavior, and now that her spanking was imminent, she stared him down fearlessly. Did she need him to spank her? Did a small part of her have to challenge him?

  When she reached him, he grasped her elbow and glanced around him. A large stump was a few feet away, next to a fallen tree trunk. The stump would do well. He dragged her over and sat down. It was an easy matter to draw her straight across both knees.

  As her warm belly pressed up against his lap, his cock hardened, and he nearly groaned out loud. Damn her curvy, inviting figure. He remembered the fevered pitch of her moans as he’d made her climax. The sudden vision of her luscious form, naked, beneath him on the clean white sheets in a room at Lawson’s, almost made him lose his focus. Sweet Jesus, what would it be like to have those tantalizing moans under him as he ground into her? Her soft, gentle curves beneath his hardened muscles as he mounted her?

  But no. He could not dwell on anything but the matter at hand, and there was a naughty little girl who needed a good, hard spanking.

  Placing the switch down beside him, he lifted her skirts quickly. His hands itched to stroke her, his mouth to take her. He wanted to ravish her until she groaned in ecstasy at his mercy. She wiggled in protest when his hand went to her drawers to pull them down, writhing to get away, but he held fast.

  Her voice took on a different tone, no longer hard and defiant but now pleading. “Oh, please,
Cole. Not on the bare skin! Not with a switch!”

  There was something endearing about hearing his name in her lovely voice, but he’d still not be dissuaded. “Do I want to hear you call me Cole?”

  Her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head from side to side. “No, Daddy.”

  “Good girl. You’re hardly in a position to be tellin’ me what to do, little girl,” he said, as he pulled her drawers straight down to her ankles. Her hand shot out to block him but he pinned it quickly. She moaned, likely more so from apprehension and fear than anything, but the mere sound had him shifting with arousal. When she was sufficiently vulnerable, the smooth skin of her backside bare, he lifted the switch and touched her bottom with it.

  “You were a naughty little girl just now, Aida,” he chided. “And Daddy won’t abide such behavior.” He lifted the switch and snapped it against her bottom. She flinched and yelped, as an angry red stripe rose on her creamy white skin. The switch whistled through the air before it landed again in a quiet thwap against her skin. He paused several seconds between each swat.

  “You’ll eat what I give you.”

  Again the switch landed in earnest. She jumped and whimpered. He delivered three more firm swats before he spoke again.

  “You’ll not defy me.”

  Another hard lash of the switch broke her resolve, and she cried out loud.

  “The men we’re with now will just as soon kill you as they would look at you, taking their fill of your sweet pussy in turn. Defying me now puts you at risk.”

  The swish and thud of the switch fell in earnest now. Her bottom was striped in angry red welts as he continued. He wanted her to feel the sting for days. He wanted her to remember what happened to little girls who defied their daddies.

  “You’ll do what I say, and you’ll obey me without question,” he continued. “I don’t care if I have to take you over my knee every damn morning when you wake up, and across my lap again before you go to bed at night.”

  Thwap. The switch cut across her thighs, eliciting a scream of pain, before he lashed across her thighs again. She twisted her torso, trying to get away from the pain, but he held fast. He stopped his lecture, letting the punishing cut of the switch do the talking.

  Her howls of protest quieted as Cole continued the switching. Her back no longer stiffened over his lap, and she went limp, though her hands clung tenaciously to his pant leg. He paused, placing one hand on her warmed backside, rubbing her skin. “Have I made my point, young lady?”

  She sniffled. “Yes.” she said, her voice thick with emotion. Good. He was getting somewhere, though her spanking was not finished.

  He tossed the switch to the side, his large, rough hand smoothing over her backside. His cock strained for release, but he held fast to the duty he had to perform.

  “Those men up there need to be watched, Aida,” he said. “But because of your naughty behavior, I had to step away from them.”

  He raised his hand and delivered a sound smack to her punished bottom. She gasped and squirmed, but he held fast, lifting his hand before bringing it down with another loud crack. The touch of skin on skin marked her, made the punishment memorable and lasting. But it also made him even harder, so much so he was tempted to let her go before he was quite finished. As he lectured her, he reminded himself why he had to spank her so soundly, his voice deepening as his anger rose.

  “Those men would hurt you.” Swat! “And I don’t mean a crack across your backside that will wear off in time. I don’t mean a spanking, little girl.” Swat! “My job is to keep you away from them. And if I’m spendin’ my time tannin’ your pretty little hide, my eyes are off them and I don’t like that.” Three rapid swats fell. She was crying in earnest now. He was done.

  He lifted her up and held her against his chest. It felt nice holding her like this. Sick bastard that he was, he ignored the fact that he was the one who’d caused her to cry to begin with, his protective instincts rising as her hands reached for him. Her thin frame shook, racked with sobs as he held her, weeping.

  He couldn’t help it. He needed to soothe her. A dim part of his mind reminded him that now would be an opportune time to garner her unmitigated trust, use it to his advantage, manipulate her into going along with him. But instinct prevailed.

  “Shh, darlin’,” he said. “You’re safe now. I know I spanked you hard, but you’re safe, Aida. You’ll understand soon, but for now, you’ll do what Daddy says. It’s my job to take care of you. We’re almost where we need to go, and it’ll all be clear to you soon. You’ll see. If they try to hurt you—if any of them try to hurt you—I’ll kill them.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, as he kissed her dampened cheek and smoothed a rough hand over her soft blond curls, pressing her head against his chest. He wanted nothing more than to calm her tears and still her shaking. He held her silently, rocking her against his chest.

  He heard the telltale sound of a twig snapping. His head bolted up, his keen eyes taking in the forest around them. But he saw nothing.

  “What is it?” she whispered, her eyes looking into his, wide and trusting, vulnerable. Without another thought, he kissed her.

  God almighty, he hoped it was just a creature, and not one of the men. If Monty or his crew caught wind of anything, his plan would be shot to hell.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sometimes I’m terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger… the way it stops and starts. ― Edgar Allan Poe

  Aida wanted to protest. She wanted to push him away. But when Cole’s head dipped down and his mouth found hers, though her mind said no, her body said yes.

  Yes. Please. More.

  It was wrong, all of it, so very wrong. He’d whipped her mercilessly. He was an outlaw. He’d stolen her. But never had she been attracted to a man like Cole. The men she’d met as of late, the rich dandies who called on her at home, were nothing like her captor. Their hands were pale and soft, their clothes impeccably clean. They smelled of clover and mint, and she stood taller than a few. Their dainty speech and perfect manners sickened her. She hated them, all of them. They all reminded her of her father.

  The rough stubble of Cole’s bearded face scratched her as his mouth, soft in comparison to everything else about him, met hers in unapologetic greed. He wanted her. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and arousal zinged through her core. Her body had been taut before, wound and closed and properly chastened, but now she was split open, laid bare, heat galloping through her veins and arousal across her chest as his raw, powerful hands raked over her breasts. His fingers nimbly found her nipples, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure so a low moan hummed between them as they kissed.

  He pulled his mouth away and cursed, the guttural growl somehow making her need him more. Everything in her instinctively yearned for his power, his strength, his unabashed masculinity. He raked his fingers through her hair, tugging her head back with surprising tenderness, though she felt the pull on her scalp, a reminder of his unbridled strength. He made her feel small, feminine, and somehow beautiful. His whiskered mouth graced her cheek with a kiss.

  “You’ll be a good girl, Aida,” he said, and she nodded. Yes. Yes, she would, she’d do anything he said. “You won’t give Daddy reason to punish you again like that.”

  Daddy.

  Why did hearing him say that make her thighs clench, her nipples tighten against the bodice of the dress? It was so wrong.

  She swallowed, utterly consumed with her need for him, as she gasped a response. “No. I’m sorry.” Her voice caught at the end. She was sorry.

  She’d needed to defy him, needed to push. The feeling of being out of control was unsettling. But now as he held her close to his chest, she felt calmed. No longer out of control or angry. He was strong. He would protect her. She’d needed the stern reminder. Her entire life she’d been allowed to do as she’d wanted. She’d been spoiled terribly. Cole was the first man who had ever held her to a higher standard, and though she’d
deny it, deep down inside she felt the magnetic pull of his authority. It was calming and undeniably erotic.

  “I want to hold you,” he said, his mouth trailing down to her neck. His tongue flicked out, licking the bare skin of her collarbone. She gasped at the sensation as his teeth gently nipped the sensitive skin at her neck. “I want to lay you down and strip you.” His voice was so deep and raspy it traipsed across her skin like liquid fire. “I want to taste you,” he growled. “Every bit of you. Your mouth, your breasts, and your sweet little pussy.”

  She closed her eyes against the flames that licked through her. God, if only…

  “I whipped you now, and I don’t regret it,” he said. “But you took that whippin’ like a good girl. And in my book, good girls get rewards.” He paused before he continued. “I forget nothin’, Aida.” His voice hardened, but the roughness of it made her insides tremble. “I remember who deserves to be punished. I mete out punishment when the time is right.” His tongue flicked out against her skin again, and her hips bucked with need. “But I also remember who deserves to be rewarded.” His hand traveled beneath the layers of dress, one finger dipping between her legs. “Can you be a patient girl? Obey Daddy? Stay away from those men up there, and stay by my side?”

  “Yes,” she moaned. Anything. She’d do anything.

  “Try again, darlin’?”

  It didn’t feel wrong this time. She didn’t feel anger. Now, she reveled in it. “Yes, Daddy.”

  * * *

  Cole walked her back up to camp, and as the cool air hit him, his haze of arousal began to lift.

  Goddamn it.

  What had come over him just now? All he’d wanted was her obedience. He didn’t have time for anything short of complete obedience from everyone. He wanted her to trust him, yes, and it was far easier to get it from her that way. But damn, if he hadn’t been sincere back there. He didn’t want Monty and his boys seeing him come back to camp with Aida, so he walked up ahead, caught Junior’s attention, and flagged him over. “Take her to the creek and see she gets herself ready to sleep,” he ordered. Junior was more than happy to obey. Cole ignored Aida’s look of confusion and sent her on her way.