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Five more swats land, and I swear they hurt more after the short break. Celeste stops again to rub at my punished bottom, her voice low and soothing when she speaks again. “Five more and then we’re all done, baby. You can be a good girl and take five more, can’t you?”

I don’t want to. But I do want to be her good girl, so I somehow find the energy to nod.

“That’s my sweet girl. These are going to hurt, angel, so make sure not to move your hands.”

These are going to hurt? Like this entire experience hasn’t been the most painful, humiliating one of my life?

But then the next swat lands, right along the sensitive crease where my bottom and thighs meet and I have to grip the sink with all my strength to keep myself from reaching back.

“Mommy, no! It’s too hard!”

“Good. Then hopefully you’ll remember this the next time you want to disobey me or your Daddy.”

My Daddy?

Before I can ask any questions, the second swat lands right along my other sit-spot and my attention is once more focused on the unbearable pain in my bottom.

Three, four, and finally five all land along the same spots, leaving me a sobbing, incoherent mess by the time she finishes. Setting the paddle aside, she pulls me into her arms, and I’m too lost in my own misery to do more than burrow into her softness.

“There’s my good Little girl,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Mommy’s right here, baby. We’re all done.”

Her words wash over me, soothing the ragged edges of my emotions as I drag in a shuddering breath.

This, right here, is what I’ve wanted so long. Being held and loved and babied and wanted.

And if being a complete disaster is what it takes to make sure I never lose this feeling, then that’s damn well what I’m going to do.

Chapter Four

Celeste

Our sweet little Kerry is even more perfect than I could have imagined. The way she cried so sweetly before I even picked up the paddle will live in my brain and my heart for the rest of my days.

And this, right now? Having her sob in my arms as I comfort her after a punishment?

It’s almost too perfect.

When her sobs finally slow to hiccups and sniffles, I pull back just enough to cup her blotchy face in my hands. “Let’s get you cleaned up, pretty girl. Do you have a clean change of clothes?”

Her cheeks turn even pinker at my question. “No. My suitcase got stolen last night.”

My poor baby. “How did that happen, little one?”

Shifting her gaze to the left she shrugs. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Kerry.” I wait for her to meet my gaze before continuing. “Tell Mommy what happened.”

“I don’t know,” she whines, sounding so adorably Little I might have laughed if this wasn’t so serious. “I was at a bar and I got a little drunk and then I don’t really know what happened.”

Anger burns in my stomach. Not at her, but at whoever would take advantage of my sweet Little girl. “That sounds like more than a little drunk, Kerry. Are you being honest with Mommy?”

Her face is so red, she could light up a completely dark room. “Maybe it was more than a little. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lie, it’s just really embarrassing. I don’t know why I’m like this.”

From what Maxwell has told us, this is wildly out of character for her, which I do find concerning. But everyone has bad days, so I set that worry aside and focus on her most immediate needs. “It’s all right, angel. Mommy and Daddy will take care of everything. Let’s get you washed up and see if we can’t find a brush for your hair.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Such a polite Little girl,” I tease gently as I pull out the high-end face wash Catharina has no doubt demanded the plane be stocked with. “Let’s see if we can keep her around for the rest of the flight, hmm?”