“God give me strength to deal with you, Sunday Fallon.” Then his palm was gone, but I felt the air shift as he landed another blow on my already stinging cheek. I grunted, the sound low and needy. More. I needed more. “Harder, Daddy.” His sharp gasp followed by a growl of, “I told you not to call me that,” echoed through to my core, making me clench my thighs. Then he shifted his hips, and oh, my fucking God, was that an erection?
