Daddy's Here(22)
The goons looked to him and then moved to grab me. "He waved them away. "I'm in charge now."
I stood in silence as the goons walked slowly away, leaving us alone with Kingsley. He leant over the side, flicking cigarette ash downwards. "I never wanted to marry you," he said quietly. "That was his choice, not mine."
I stayed silent, Jake standing close beside me, wary in case it was a trap.
"Don't worry," Kingsley said, standing up straight again and turning to face us. "It's over."
"Just like that?" Jake asked.
"Just like that."
An hour later, I was sat next to Jake at my father's house, a glass of whiskey in my hand and my father sat opposite, apologising for the tenth time. Finally, he lapsed into silence before sighing and refilling his glass. He turned to Jake. "So you'll want paying, I suppose?"
"What for?" he asked.
"For bringing my daughter back."
"I don't need your money."
"Why are you looking at her like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're in love with her."
"Because I am."
"What?" me and my father said at the same time.
"I said I'm in love with your daughter."
"And are you in love with him?" he asked, turning to me.
"I am," I replied, a smile spreading across her lips.
"Then I think another round of drinks is in order."
We spent the rest of the day finishing the bottle before Jonathan excused himself, heading off to bed and leaving the two of us alone.
I burrowed herself under his arm, smiling up at him. "So you're in love with me then?"
"And you're in love with me apparently."
"I am. You're annoying, infuriating even. And you tease me too much but I am."
"I'm glad," I said, kissing his cheek.
"Me too."
"What do we do now?"
"How about we go to bed?" I asked, running my hand down his chest.
"What would your father think?"
"I don't care what he thinks."
"You don't?"
"No, I care what my Daddy thinks."
EPILOGUE
"Bend over, Izzy," he said, his voice cold.
I did as he commanded, feeling exposed as he paced back and forth behind me.
"You've made your Daddy very cross," he continued. "Haven't you?"
"I'm sorry, Daddy."
"You know I don't like you wearing clothes in bed."
"It was only a thong, Daddy."
"Are you answering back?"
"No, Daddy."
We'd only been together a few days but already I felt like we'd been doing this for a lifetime, me his little girl, him my Daddy. I'd only mentioned spanking that morning and already he was fulfilling my wishes as he'd fulfilled so many others.
Would this be the time he'd do it? So many times, we'd been so close but again and again he only teased me, telling me he was in charge of deciding when we would fuck.
As his hand slapped down on my rear, I gasped, the stinging sensation bringing my nerves to life. The intensity of it made the stroke of his hand all the harder to handle. He smacked me again a second later and I felt myself growing wet, ready for him.
He'd brought me to the brink of orgasm again and again in the last few days, keeping me on the brink as a special kind of torture, one that I both wanted to last forever and begged him to end.
"You need to be good for Daddy," he said, spanking me again. "Don't you?"
"Yes, Daddy."
His hand slid down between my buttocks and I felt his fingers spread my wetness, push towards my entrance as I ached for him to enter me.
It was all the harder to handle knowing he was naked behind me, knowing he was rock hard and if I turned I'd see his enormous cock ready to enter me.
"Fuck me," I begged. "Please, fuck me, Daddy."
"Good little girls don't use language like that," he replied, landing another firm swat on my buttocks.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. Please don't be cross with me."
"I'm not cross," he said, moving closer to me. I felt the tip of his cock slide down over my buttocks and I held my breath. Please let it be this time. I couldn't bear it any longer. I had to know what it felt like for him to be inside me. "Please," I muttered as he circled my pussy with his cock. "Please, Daddy, I need it inside me."
He didn't answer, his cock moving away from me, making me want to scream in frustration. But just as I thought he was going to tell me to stand up, he thrust himself into me and I lost myself in ecstasy. The feel of it driving into my wetness was so overwhelming I almost lost the strength in my legs.
Barely aware of where I was, I let out a long moan of excitement as he pulled back and thrust in again. "Thank you," I was able to mutter before I lost the power of speech. He alternated speed, teasing and tormenting me as I remained in place, his hands on my hips, drawing me back onto him.
When he pulled out of me, I growled in frustration but he ignored me, pulling me down onto him on the floor, impaling me on his cock. I ground down on him as he stroked my clit, staring hungrily up at me, his eyes filled with lust.
My clit responded to his touch as he filled me completely, a climax building inside me that hit me seconds later, making my body writhe in place, my back arching, my insides twitching around his cock, holding him tight in place.
My orgasm had barely faded before he moved me again, twisting me onto my back so he could crush me under his body, his cock buried as far into me as it could go. "I'm so close," he muttered, pulling back and then thrusting in once more. "Oh, fuck. Here it comes."
"Give it to me," I replied, clawing at his back as he thrust faster until his mouth fell open and then I felt it, his cock spasming inside me, hot wetness filling me to capacity. He slumped against me as his shaft continued to jerk inside my pussy. "Thank you, Daddy," I whispered, kissing his ear. "Thank you for everything."
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Lucy Wild
Lucy Wild is a contemporary romance author who specialises in Daddy Dom and BDSM stories. She lives on the Yorkshire coast with her partner and their border collie in a house full of books and sweets.
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BONUS STORY
LITTLE TIME
Prologue
Abbey lay on her back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. She couldn't bring herself to look down at him. She wished she was somewhere else, anywhere but laid on her back whilst a furious looking man folded a nappy between her legs. This wasn't a game, this was real, he was treating her as if she was nothing but his depraved plaything.
She was desperate to cover her chest with her arms, shield her breasts from his menacing glare, anything to protect at least a shred of her modesty.
She dared not move though. Her bottom still stung from the heat of the spanking he had already given her. She knew that moving would mean trouble, he had told her as much. "Keep still," he snapped as her legs moved together of their own accord.
She sucked on her dummy, the sensation of it in her mouth calming her far less than she'd hoped. He loomed over her, his hand outstretched towards her, ready to humiliate her yet again. How had it come to this? How had she ended up in the nursery of a violent Papa who offered her no hope of escape?
Chapter One
Abigail Moncrieff pouted into her phone as she drove, looking down at the screen, getting the perfect snapshot to upload. Her new lipstick shone in the photos, setting off perfectly the deep blue of her eyes. Taking her other hand off the wheel, she drove with her knees, smoothing her hair just a little more, ready for another snap. You are gorgeous, she thought, as the car veered to the right.
She grabbed the wheel again just in time, swerving round a cyclist with inches to spare. What was he doing on the road anyway? Roads were for cars, not Lycra morons, she always said. There were too many bikes and too many cars in the city anyway. Roll on village life where she could be Queen of the road again.
Scrolling through the photos she'd just taken, she began to upload her favourite, no filter needed. Typing in hashtags, she almost missed the red light in front of her. She hit the brakes, almost dropping her phone as her four inch heel slid off the pedal and thudded into the footwell underneath. The car stopped a hair's breadth from the one in front, the occupant of that vehicle glaring in his rear view mirror at her, pointing theatrically at his eye whilst mouthing something.