“You finished misbehaving?” Linc asked. “I don’t know,” he heard himself say, his voice sounding far away. He swore Linc chuckled before he delivered another three slaps. “How about now?” Wyatt wiped his face against his forearm, bracing it against the door. His limbs felt heavy and numb. “Yes,” he mumbled. The barest hint of a slap had Wyatt hissing. “How do you address me?” “Sir?” “Wrong answer,” Linc growled. “You know what I am. Say it.” “Daddy,” Wyatt whispered, every nerve ending standing at attention. “Yes, Daddy.”
