“Ah, but that’s what the plug will solve for you,” Berkley remarked. “Once she’s used to having something inside her sweet little rosebud, she’ll be much more accommodating when you want to fill her yourself.”
“Enough.” Salt flipped my skirt back down. “You have seen proof that we complied with your rules. Now I will take my mishka back up to room and tend to her.”
“Just see that you don’t remove the plug. Or if you do remove it, that you reinsert it before coming out into the public areas of the Institute,” Berkley warned. “You’ve been warned, Mr. Saltanov.”
Then he left, his shoes tapping on the hardwood floor as he went back to his office.
I had been standing there feeling exposed and vulnerable and extremely shaky for what felt like forever. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit me and I nearly fell. Only the fact that I was still leaning on the pseudo exam table saved me but I couldn’t keep my grip on it and began to slip.
“Mishka!” Salt grabbed me around the waist and lifted me quickly into his arms. I wound up with my arms around his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist while he supported me with a hand under my bare bottom. I thought I must look like a tired toddler being carried by a parent and struggled to get down.
“You don’t…don’t have to do this, Salt,” I protested. “I’m fine—I can walk.”
“Like hell you can,” he said roughly. “Don’t struggle. Hold on to me, mishka. I will carry you to room.”
“But I’m too heavy to carry all that way up and down stairs,” I protested, even as he left the medical room, still holding me.
Salt gave a deep, rumbling laugh that seemed to vibrate my entire body.
“Nonsense,” he murmured. “You are light as a flower—I could hold you all day.”
“Light as a feather,” I murmured against his neck, deciding to give up the fight and just let him carry me.
“What?” He sounded distracted as he walked briskly down the stairs for the punishment wing and began climbing the steps which led to the guest suites.
“A feather. The phrase is ‘light as a feather,’” I corrected him.
“But why? Flowers are light too,” Salt protested, sounding mildly amused. “And they smell nicer.” He pressed his face to my hair and inhaled deeply. “Is just as accurate to say light as a flower.”
“Fine, say whatever you want.” I nuzzled closer to him and wrapped my legs just a little tighter around his waist. Salt responded by putting his free arm around me and squeezing me gently, returning my embrace. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so safe and loved in someone’s arms—well, not since my father had left me, anyway.
“I will say whatever I wish, mishka,” he murmured softly, as he finally came to our room and opened the door. “But first what I wish is to get you cleaned and comfortable.”
He took me inside the suite and drew a warm bubble bath for me, even though it was the middle of the day. He bathed me gently, washing my hair himself as I leaned against the side of the tub, letting him do what he wanted to me. Part of me knew this was an unnecessary indulgence. We should be working on the case—now we knew where the secret viewing room was, a whole new world of possible evidence had opened up to us. Instead, we were taking time for Salt to care for me as though I was a little girl who had gotten hurt and needed her Daddy to heal and comfort her.
Yes, I couldn’t make myself complain when he treated me so tenderly, taking me out of the tub and toweling me off gently as he knelt before me, blotting the water from my skin. He inspected my pussy too and I let him, even spreading my legs when he wanted to part my outer lips and be certain that the swelling from my earlier spanking was going down. Who was I to stop my Papa from doing what he wanted with me—especially when all he wanted was to give me pleasure and heal me?
“I think you are going to be fine, my darling,” he murmured after placing a soft kiss on the top of my mound. “Your skin is not so red as it was. There is no permanent harm done, I think. Now…” He moved the towel around to pat my bottom dry. “What about this?”