Cook (The Ridge MC Book 4)

Chapter 15

Cook

My traitorous palm itched. Not the tingle they say precedes coming into money, but with an energy that wanted to draw back and spank that ass she propped up for me.

I’ve never been like this before. Never consumed like this with a need to make someone subservient to my needs. What the hell is happening?

Instead of thwacking Maddie on her ass like I wanted, I walked to the door and called Mercer back inside. The small man in his tailored gray suit and spit-shined shoes returned and went to the filing cabinet, supposedly to file the clipboard, but not before giving the document a good once over.

His brows drew together as he apparently tried to make out one of our handwritings. Unless it was my signature, it had to be Maddie’s writing.

“Odd safe word . . . knee show . . .?”

“What?” His question confused me for a second, and I motioned him back. Glancing at what she’d written in the safe word blank—“knee show nah”—I cut my eyes back to Maddie. She stood there with her arms pretzeled in front of her, and a blush crept across her chest and up into her cheeks.

She had stolen my word to use as her safe word. My nizhóní. My beauty.

I grabbed a pen and crossed it out, writing and repeating the Navajo word at the same time: “Nizhóní.”

Mercer reached to grab it from my hands, but I moved it away. “Maddie, come here.”

She rounded the chair and crossed the remaining few steps until she stood in front of me.

I showed her the correct spelling. “If you’re going to use the native tongue, you must learn to spell it first.”

Her amber eyes flicked to Mercer, and my blood ignited.

“Eyes on me,” I ordered.

Her gaze snapped back to meet mine.

Mercer took the clipboard from my hands. “Good. Both of you. Very good.”

After slipping the paper into a folder behind the letter C, he led us out of his office. I took Maddie’s hand in mine and kept her at my eight o’clock as we followed.

On the way to the corner of the busy lounge, Mercer crooked his finger toward a woman sitting primly on one of the red leather couches. She excused herself and hurried over, ignoring us, bowing her head to the little man, and handing him the end of a leash that dangled from a collar around her neck. She was even tinier than him.

“This is Cherie.” Mercer accepted the leather handle. “We will show you some of the very basics.”

Maddie curled her body tighter against me, but over my shoulder, she studied Cherie with awe. Cherie’s actions weren’t forced by anyone but given over to Mercer voluntarily. This would be new territory for my nizhóní too, but I didn’t yet know how she would take it.

Mercer took the leash and guided Cherie to a black door. “Prepare the elementary room for a lesson, pet.”

Cherie slid the black door to the side and let us all inside. The overhead lights were harsh, but she turned on a warmer amber light and shut off the white ones.

“It’s just been sanitized, sir,” she addressed Mercer and closed the door, sealing all four of us inside.

The music’s crooning faded, and the thump of bass dulled when the heavy door slid into place. Cherie went to wardrobe cabinet on the far side and opened both doors, putting an array of kinky shit on display—floggers, rope, a scarf I could imagine as a blindfold, a short whip, some small metal instruments, and things I couldn’t name.

No one would call me na?ve, but damn Gina, that was serious business.

Maddie’s hand in mine tensed, and I felt a little shudder run through her body.

A wingback chair sat in one corner, where the view would be obscured, if not hidden.

“Maddie, go sit down.”

“Yes Daddy,” she whispered for only my ears.

Crossing to stand between Maddie and the others, I gave the fucking toolbox a once over.

Mercer waved at the assortment like Vanna White. “You’re free to bring your own implements, but we do have equipment available for your use. These are good tools for beginners, but you’ll find more advanced things in some of our other playrooms. Cherie?”

“Yes sir?” she replied immediately.

“Kneel beside the door, nose to the wall,” he ordered.

Cherie hesitated—barely perceptible, but it was definitely a pause—and Mercer reached into the cabinet for a riding crop. She turned to face the door and hinged at her hips, flipping her skirt over her bare ass.

Mercer popped her with the end, and I could see the mark forming before she stood and crossed to the door. There, Cherie hung the loop at the end of her leash on the handle before she kneeled and pressed her knees into the wall. She then sat back on her heels and leaned forward until her nose met the dark green brocade wallpaper.

The small man put away the crop and jutted his chin at Cherie. “That’s what defiance and then obedience looks like in a sub. Your job,” he said in a quiet voice, “is to set clear expectations for your sub.”

I ground my teeth, not liking how he referred to her, or them, as things rather than people. “Maddie,” I corrected.

He flourished his fingers and strode past me toward Cherie. “As you will.”

Checking on Maddie, I witnessed something raw cross her face, as if she was opening up to something of wonder. I didn’t understand, yet, but I would. That’s why we were here.

“This is a game of power.” Mercer ran his hands through Cherie’s hair, petting her as if she were a dog. “Power given by her as a gift to me, her master. True, my pet?”

“Yes sir,” answered Cherie without moving a muscle.

“Be as creative as you like, but it’s your job as your sub’s Dom to be patient. To give them order. To provide them with a firm hand. And yes, to dole out punishment when they fail to meet your expectations.” He held up a finger. “And finally, you are responsible to care for them after your scene.”

“Scene?” I questioned.

“Yes. Could be bondage, any kind of discipline... like I said, as creative as you will.”

Fuck! How I hated the images that were running through my brain. And what this little bit of instruction stirred in me. Envisioning Maddie behaving for me like Cherie behaved for Mercer had my lower gut tightening and blood starting to feed my erection.

But only if she wanted it too.

I peeked at her again, letting my eyes linger on how she sat with her knees and ankles together, her hands folded in her lap, and her eyes wide and bright.

“There’s a hamper there.” Mercer pointed to the far corner near a counter with a sink. “There are towels in the cabinet beneath the sink. The mattress has a waterproof pad under the sheets.” He indicated the queen-size bed in the center of the room. “The sheets need to be stripped when you’re done. Those, along with any towels, can be tucked into the hamper before you leave. Any questions?”

Fuck yeah! A shit ton of them, but nothing I could put into a logical question. “No.”

“We’ll leave you then.” He picked up the end of the leash and tugged Cherie to her feet. “There are no locks, you’ll find. We had them all removed after an incident. But you’ll have two hours in the room for your session. No one will bother you. The light above the door will flicker to alert you five minutes before your time is up. That button there will go straight to my cell in case you have need of me.”

Cherie opened the door for Mercer, and he smiled at me.

I didn’t answer and certainly didn’t thank him.

He leaned closer and whispered. “She wants you in charge. Everything about her body signals that. Trust what you’re feeling.”

Once they were gone, I closed the door and pressed my head against it.

“We don’t have to do this,” Maddie said from the side of the room, her voice small.

I had to get past my insecurity, pronto! Maddie, still sitting in her chair, looked as curious as a jackrabbit after hearing a rustle in the bushes. But I didn’t miss the way her fingers twisted together in her lap.

Mercer was right about one thing, at least. She needed me to be strong and give her guidance. Problem was... I’d been denying myself for a while now and my cock was bitching at me nonstop. Could I unleash myself? Let myself fuck her and not break her further?

I strode over to the wardrobe and looked over the collection, flashing back to that first night when I’d taken her to Mom’s. What she had said so quietly to me in the dark... I need someone who will be gentle with me, but firm enough to tell me what I need to do, like the dad I remember.

That after I’d asked why she called me Daddy.

Structure. She needed structure, not abuse.

I wrapped my hand around the handle of a flogger and had to admit how good it felt in my hand.

“Can I see?” Maddie’s voice came to me from her chair.

“No.”

“May I get up?”

“Not yet.” Dropping the flogger handle, I glanced down at the open bottom drawer.

Glass dildos were lined up in order of smallest to largest. There were possibilities there. The second row of toys consisted of butt plugs in graduating sizes. We definitely weren’t jumping straight to anal, but holy fuck did that make my cock thicken.

I closed the drawer and then the doors, leaning against the wardrobe with one shoulder. “On the bed, Maddie. Kneeling.”

I didn’t want her kneeling on the floor because she needed to talk to me, and I didn’t want to have to look down. She needed to tell me what she expected. I wasn’t experienced in this, and mind reading wasn’t in my reper-fucking-toire.

The position was subservient, so it would satisfy the Dom-sub requirements, but I wanted her eyes on the same level as mine. As she moved, I squared off and crossed my arms over my chest, the leather of my cut pulling across my shoulders.

She stepped up onto the platform next to the bed and then crawled onto the softer mattress. Her eyes stretched with wonder and raked over the ropes and harnesses hanging from the bed frame.

I glanced up too. Safety would be my priority here, so I needed to see what I had to work with. The construction was more than sound. Hell, with the gauge of those hooks and swivels combined with corner reinforcements, it could probably hold four-hundred pounds. Maybe more.

Maddie kneeled in the center of the mattress, facing me.

“Come this way so your knees are on the edge.”

Without question she obeyed, but her knees were glued together.

“Open your knees wide.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she answered and spread her thighs, keeping her heels glued together.

The dress draped between her legs, hiding what was underneath.

I let out a soft growl, then ordered, “Bring the hem up to the tops of your thighs.”

She did, and I stared at the white cotton covering her pussy. Boring. Something we would have to fix. Later.

There was a wet spot seeping wider from her center as I watched. The base of my spine tingled, sending shocks into my cock and balls. But this wasn’t about me blowing my wad. It was about her and what she needed to recover from all the shit. From her fucked-up existence under the bitch’s thumb.

“Give me your safe word.”

She enunciated the syllables like she’d written on the contract. The sounds were correct, but I wanted to reinforce the lesson.

“Now spell it,” I commanded.

She recited the letters from memory.

“And the accents?”

“The O and the last I.”

“Very good, nizhóní,” I praised.

Maddie bit her lower lip and let it slide through her teeth. “Will you tell me now?”

“It’s a Navajo word. It means beautiful or beauty.”

“You speak Navajo?” Her eyes went wide with clear, childlike fascination.

“I remember some from when I was a kid.” Before my father got addicted to meth, we had traveled to northern Arizona and I had lessons from my grandmother, a wise woman in the tribe.

“Will you teach me?”

I snapped my teeth shut and swallowed. Did she mean the language or all of this? “Perhaps, but not now.”

She looked dejected.

So, I hurried to add, “We have other things to think about now.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Taking a deep breath, I stated, “Maddie, you will tell me what you want from me.”

The game was over. My battle with her calling me Daddy was through. I’d live by her definition from this point forward. I’d finally decided to take control, releasing the worst moment of my life, but I wasn’t touching her until we talked. It didn’t matter if we faced off like this for the entire two hours. I couldn’t just take her and fuck her like I would have with any other woman who had been throwing herself at me for more than a week.

Maddie squirmed, and I watched her shift back and forth as an idea bloomed.

Opening the door to the wardrobe a crack, I retrieved a small leather paddle. The end looped like a doubled-over belt. Moving to the edge of the platform, I reached forward and smacked her inner thigh.

She gasped.

“Sit still and answer me.” I stepped back, holding the paddle at my side, and waited.

Maddie started to pull her hands together, apparently ready to wrench her fingers like I’d noticed she did when she was nervous.

“Don’t.”

Her hands went back to resting on her thighs, fingers splayed. “I want you to erase the bad things.”

“What bad things?” I gritted out. She’d been raped again and again, so how could I possibly erase it all?

She met my gaze, and I knew that was as much of an answer as I was getting right now.

I stepped onto the platform, letting the paddle fall onto the bed, and grasped either side of her face. Her maple-syrup eyes glowed up at me with questions.

“Say yes, nizhóní.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I crashed my mouth down on hers, something inside me ripping to shreds, melting into a puddle, then reforming into something harder. Stronger. Like the sculptures we’d seen at the art fair. I kissed her with the drive of a starving man, allowing our connection to fully redefine the word daddy.

And when Maddie gasped into the demanding kiss, I swallowed the sound and kissed her harder. Relentlessly. I had to learn how to be what she needed, but in the process, she was becoming my escape from my own hurt and abuse. From the sin I committed against my own family. Was I doing the same for her?

Over and over, my tongue dove into her mouth, devouring her sweetness and every little throaty sound she made. They were mine. All of them.

All of her.

Her hands reached for me, but I pressed them back down to her thighs and growled. Understanding, she kept her arms down, hands away, and that was a damn good thing, because I wanted to ravage her. If I let her small fingers explore my body, all the control I was holding on to so fucking desperately would break free.

That couldn’t happen yet.

My hands slipped into her hair, and both curled into fists. Maddie answered the pull and rewarded me with a whimper, her tongue darting out to meet mine when I let up ever so slightly.

When I broke the kiss, both our chests heaved as we drew in much needed oxygen.

Her eyes were glassed over with desire, but I had to step away to regroup.

Giving her my back, I ordered, “You will ask for what you need from me, am I clear?”

She didn’t answer, so I peeked at her over my shoulder. The hesitation drew up her face and pinched her lips together into a small angry pucker.

“What is it?”

Maddie shook her head briskly.

“Stop.” My eyes returned to the leather thing at her side, and I held out my hand. “Give me the paddle.”

She leaned over and placed it in my hand.

“Now, sit back down and ask for what you want.” I turned away from her again, both to give her the space to fidget if she needed and to settle my aching cock.

“I, uh.” She huffed. “Fine. I don’t want to ask, okay? No one ever asked me before, and that’s what I need erased.” A pause, then in a quieter voice, she added, “Replaced.”

Someone must’ve sucked all the air out of the room because my lungs wouldn’t work. They wouldn’t expand to draw in my next breath, but my heart kicked in my chest. A wash of murderous red covered my vision.

No fucking way she could want that!

Maddie

My fingertips dug into my thighs so hard I might have bruises and half-moon fingernail cuts. I waited for Daddy to turn around, to say something. Anything.

How fucking insane was I to want him to take these things from me? To force himself on me or make me feel him?

Only him.

I had a goddamn good excuse, though, who went by the name of Signora Amaranta Gambino. She made me what I was, and all I was asking was for those experiences to be washed away with similar ones. Ones I could control. Ones that were violent happy instead of violent disgusting.

It was a perfectly logical need. Right?

I lowered my chin to my chest and inhaled. I could smell myself, how my needy cunt was leaking, soaking my panties. He had to have smelled that too, but he maintained a distance between our bodies, not allowing me to feel his arousal.

My daddy turned around with the devil’s anger blazing in his eyes, so at odds with his saucy eat out–dine in T-shirt. His nostrils flared, and I wrapped my arms around my middle. Was he coming for me now?

Like the others? The knife fiends. The ones who used fists. The ones who liked fire and burning?

Hooking that paddle under my chin, he raised my gaze. “Tell me your safe word.”

Before, when I had screamed no and cried, no one had stopped. It only made them ram into me harder. Only made me bleed more. Only made me scream more.

“Maddie, your safe word,” Cook insisted through clenched teeth.

“Nizhóní,” I spat.

“Promise me you will use it when things go too far.”

He didn’t say, “if,” and his voice was deadly. His beard, groomed at the sides and tapering from his chin to a point, moved with the tick of his jaw. His narrowed eyes dared me to defy him.

Temptation flooded my veins to do just that—defy him. I wouldn’t use a safe word with him because there wasn’t anything he would do to me that hadn’t already been done. And I wanted everything from him. I wanted him in my throat. Not just his tongue, but his cock. I reached for his pants, but he grabbed my wrists, wrenching them away from his waist. A dejected protest rumbled the back of my throat, but he cut me a look. I swallowed it down.

Daddy gripped my chin, not allowing me to lower it. “You’re mine, Maddie,” he growled. “To do with whatever I like. Do you understand?”

I nodded, needing exactly what he offered.

“But not before you agree.”

It wouldn’t happen—I’d never use the safe word—but the things he said and the bulge behind his zipper made promises that I wanted to see come to life.

“What do you say?” he asked.

I peeked up at him through my eyelashes. Did he really mean it? He wore a drawn face, determination etched into his features.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered.

“Yes, Daddy, what?” he demanded. It was the first time he’d used the word with ease, only punctuating the word what at the end of the question.

“I will use my safe word if needed.”

Before another thought could cross my mind, his hands were on my waist, flipping me onto my back. The bed bounced beneath me, and I sucked in an audible gasp. The way he moved me was perfect. Rough and forceful like I knew he would be able. From the moment I’d laid eyes on him, I’d seen what he hid under that exterior.

My palms landed on his forearms, but he was gone before they could roam over him. He grasped one ankle and a cuff affixed to the bedpost.

“What ar—”

“Hush,” he said as he buckled it around my left ankle and cinched the straps so my leg couldn’t fall flat onto the bed.

Next, he grabbed the other leg and tied it to the footpost on my right. On my back with my legs spread wide, I watched the glorious man as his shoulders rose and fell. His mouth was set in a grim line, but when I lowered my eyes to his crotch, it looked as bulky as ever.

Good. I wanted him thick and rigid and strong when that cock finally met my pussy.

I tried to sit, but he came around to the side of the bed and placed a meaty hand in the center of my chest, pushing me down.

“Don’t move from that position, or I’ll string up your hands too.” He mused for a second and then added, “That would ruin my plans.”

My mouth and pussy watered, and I considered sitting up just to see if he’d follow through. He must have read the intent in my eyes, because he grasped the little belt-like paddle and slapped it across my thigh. I cried out, but then the sharp pain faded into a delicious tingle.

It twisted the memories of belts on my skin into something not so terrorizing. And when my daddy’s warm and rough hand rubbed the mark he’d just made, I leaned into the sensation and drew my lip between my teeth.

A needy groan escaped my lips.

Daddy stood up and opened the wardrobe’s lower drawer, pulling something out and returning to the bedside. He touched it to my bare thigh where he’d swatted me before, and the coolness soothed the remnants of the sting.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” I breathed.

He seemed pleased. “I’m going to leave this here. Don’t touch until I give you permission.”

Cook dragged the chair that I’d been sitting in earlier over to the foot of the bed, just off the platform. Turning, perhaps judging the distance, his eyes fell to the V at the apex of my thighs.

Leaning over the foot of the bed, he reached for me, and I shivered with anticipation.

“Bou gave you those panties?”

“Yes.”

“They’re no good for you. I’ll buy you something better.” He grabbed the waistband and ripped, shredding the material from my body.

As his face hovered over my needy pussy, he inhaled through his nose, closing his eyes as though he were smelling a flower.

“There we go,” murmured Cook. “Now, I can see her.”

I gulped.

A deep chuckle filled the room, and Daddy smirked. “You are so wet for me, baby girl.”

“I am, Daddy.” I gripped the blankets until my knuckles started to ache like my sex. I was so wet. So hot.

“Your pussy is weeping,” said Cook.

“Only for you, Daddy,” I swore.

“Do you shave?” he asked, cocking his head to one side.

“No.” My brows drew together.

“But you have no hair.”

I jerked my head to the side, averting my eyes. I didn’t think I could be embarrassed by him, but that observation drove me there.

My next words felt like acid in my throat. “Laser hair removal. It kept me looking... young.”

“Fucking bastards!” Cook seemed to fly away from the bed. He kicked the chair, and I winced just as he drove his fist into the solid door.

I swallowed a cry for the pain that must’ve caused his hand.

Returning to the foot of the bed, he placed both hands and some weight on the straps holding my legs spread for him. “Hear this, Maddie. If I ever find any one of them, they will suffer through every last experience you’ve had before they die a very slow and painful death.”

I blinked at him, not knowing what I should say... if anything.

He breathed himself back into control after pacing for a minute or so, then came to give me a gentle kiss before leaving me again. Why did he always have to leave?

He righted the chair between my legs and glanced at me again. “Let’s begin.”

“Yes.” I was more ready than I thought possible. This was a first for me. Something I could be a virgin at, like I had been when he put me on the back of his motorcycle.

Daddy still wore everything he’d entered the club wearing as he stepped into the chair’s seat. There, he turned and sat on the back of the chair with a prime view of my crotch. “Take the glass dildo at your side and pleasure yourself.”

My hamstrings pulled taut as I bolted upright. “What? No!”

Tears prickled my eyes. I thought this was going to be it, that we were finally going to be together. I’d only been living with him a little more than a week, but it felt like forever. Natural. Like we were supposed to coexist. Like I was meant to be there, and he met his destiny by saving me.

“Maddie,” he said, his voice low and menacing. He leaned forward from his perch, propping his elbows on his knees and leveling his gaze with mine.

One brow arched, and I flounced back onto the bed.

“What is the correct answer?” he asked, but it wasn’t really an ask.

I clenched my teeth and gritted out, “Yes, Daddy.”

Keeping my eyes on the beams above me, I reached to my side and found the cold dildo. This wasn’t what I wanted or needed. No, I craved his strong body over me, wringing orgasms from both of us. We should be in this together, not him sitting back while I gave myself an orgasm.

I slapped the glass against my pussy. I’d been so wet with anticipation and the fake cock wasn’t that large, so it slipped inside with little effort. I pushed and pulled, closing my eyes and trying not to wonder if he was enjoying the goddamn show. It sure as hell wasn’t something I was relishing.

The chair clattered to the ground and before I could open my eyes, Cook’s body was on top of mine. One of his hands pinned my free arm above my head while his other grabbed the wrist of my hand working the dildo, stilling it with the glass toy almost all the way inside. My legs stayed wide in the straps, and his thick body between them pushed down and tightened the restraints. My pussy walls pulsated, waking up.

“Should we stop?” His angered voice suddenly filled the room, echoed off the hard surfaces along with the muffled bass outside this room.

Daddy’s breath fanned the side of my face. But still, his cock was trapped in his jeans and separated from my cunt by his hand, my hand, and the glass.

I let out a breath, puffing my cheeks.

“You weren’t put off by this in my house, and you sure as fuck liked jacking yourself off while I watched then. Do you not want to show me what your body likes now?”

That’s what he was doing? Judging what I liked?

“You could’ve told me that’s what you wanted,” I said, trying to turn my head to face him, but he had me in a position where I couldn’t move.

“I told you what to do. The why is not your concern.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he pulled my arm higher, straining my shoulder, and I whined.

“You have one choice. Do you want to use your safe word?”

“Never.”

“Then fuck yourself how you like it. Give me your orgasm. Let me see it so I can own it... and you, Madeline Flemming.”

He was claiming me. Holy shit that was hot. My pussy clenched and I pinched my lips, preparing to nod yes.

But Daddy cut me off. “I never claimed to be a gentle lover, Maddie. You’re going to have to wrap your brain around the fact that I might be psychotic when it comes to sex. Are you prepared to do that?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I said without hesitation.

And his weight was gone, leaving my skin cold. I craned my neck to see him returning to the chair like it was his throne. I set to work, dipping the glass inside and drawing it all the way out. The entire time, I imagined him holding my wrist, guiding me, spreading me wide for him. I watched my daddy for several strokes and then closed my eyes, letting myself imagine the rock-hard dildo was his cock filling me.

It briefly occurred to me that I’d been fucked with a lot of things, but never something crafted solely for pleasureful purposes.

My core started to quicken, and the thought vanished. I added a finger, circling my clit as I rotated the dildo to stretch my walls. Pushing it down into the bed so the tip would reach that secret spot inside, I picked up the pace and began to pant.

“That’s it. Good girl,” Daddy said, and my orgasm snuck up on me and grabbed me in a choke hold.

I cried out as waves of pleasure washed through my body and my clit grew untouchable—sensitive from too much stimulation. My body quaked and my inner walls worked against the glass, pulling it deeper within me.

My body jittered as I came down from the high, and I felt calloused fingers wrap around my wrist, the one still holding the glass knob. I opened my eyes a slit as Cook pulled a restraint free from the headboard and cuffed my wrist.

It left the fake cock buried in my core unattended.

My body was more languid than I could’ve imagined possible, so I didn’t wonder what he was doing. I didn’t allow myself to think or consider what would come next.

When both my hands and feet were locked into restraints and pulled tight, Cook pushed my dress all the way up my torso to expose me. He dipped his head and ran his tongue over one perked nipple, then the other. The sensation sent a current straight to my pussy and I bucked.

He pulled back a hand and smacked me on the hip.

I squeaked, half delighted and more than a little surprised.

Daddy licked me in random places, and it took several strokes of his tongue to realize he was kissing and licking at my scars. I pulled against the restraints, and he popped me again.

“Be still,” he growled.

I looked up at him, drunk on post-orgasmic bliss, and he studied my face.

Whatever he saw there, he beamed and placed his thumb on the knob sticking out of my channel. I jerked. But my bodily reaction didn’t mix with what my mind and heart wanted. My body reacted like it was Tommy G touching me.

“What is it, Maddie?” Cook asked, sliding a finger from my stretched entrance to the top of my slit.

I thrashed my head from side to side. “Him. Them. No!”

Tommy G. and other faces swam in my mind. Memories of all the times some stranger touched me.

“This is only me touching you now. I’ll be the only one to ever touch you again. Got that?”

Fixing my gaze on him, I searched his face, desperate to be sure it was the truth.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Always,” I answered.

“Then I’ll take it all. All your pain. All the memories. They’re mine. You will give them to me when they threaten you, or I will punish you.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“But tonight, you’re giving me all your pleasure.” He left my side and crouched between my spread legs. Dipping low, he flattened his tongue over my pussy, licking from the dildo up to my clit, where he lingered. A shiver ran up my body, and my knees trembled.

I started to moan and twist in the restraints as the sensations built again. This time, he didn’t spank me. He let me writhe. It did little good, because being stretched to four points didn’t allow room for me to get away.

He sealed his mouth over my clit and sucked, his tongue on the lower side, stroking, caressing, kissing. His hand found the glass in my pussy and started to fuck me with it. Harder than I’d fucked myself, but better too. Every few strokes, he rotated it like I had.

“Oh God,” I called out as uncontrollable sensations danced up my spine.

Cook sucked harder. Fucked harder.

In and out while pulling my clit into his mouth. Over and over again, he kept pushing me higher. Erasing the bad shit. Making me forget. Grounding me in this room with him, and him alone. He hummed, sending a rumble through my entire body and I combusted into a thousand pieces of light, shooting off into the night.

Someone screamed.

Me.

My very first scream driven from my lungs in pleasure.

White-hot ecstasy ripped through my body, making my arms and legs shake and the straps tremble against the posts.

I fought against the arm restraints to reach for him, desperate to touch him. Hold him. Look deep in his eyes. I was scared that if I didn’t see him, I would forget he was real. That it would be someone else on my body. One of the faceless men. Clients, Signora called them, standing over me with a knife and a glinting smile.

Cook removed the dildo and let it drop onto the mattress at my side. He hovered over me and I forced my gaze to meet the depths of his chocolate eyes. He burrowed his gaze into me, like he was measuring my responses. Then, he claimed my mouth, tongue-fucking me there too.

Too soon, he broke the kiss. “Taste that sweetness?”

I licked my lips, letting my salt and musk wash over my tongue.

Clearly seeing something he liked, he left me again, and I grunted a complaint.

Daddy adjusted the straps, raising my legs higher and loosening the arm straps, then he grabbed a wedge-shaped block or pad or...?

Returning to the foot of the bed, he shoved it under my hips, canting my pussy up to the exact height of his waist. He bent over. Placing his hands on the footboard between the posts and thrust his face back into my pussy.

My back arched with the sensation, my head kicking backward.

But that wasn’t going to work. I needed to see him. To know who was devouring me.

His eyes never left mine, and his beard tickled my thighs. He moved his talented tongue faster. Harder. I jerked. My hips rose. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled across my body.

“Give it to me, Maddie.” His mouth descended on me again.

“Fuuuuuck,” I moaned, the sound slipping out of my mouth. Breathless wheezes burst from my lips.

As though he knew how much I liked it, he picked up his pace on my clit. Another flash of pleasure rocketed through me.

I blinked, and Tommy G. was standing over me, touching me. My eyes wouldn’t open, but my head tossed from side to side. Why did I have to see him now? This wasn’t then. It was now. This was Cook. My daddy.

Cook.

Not Tommy G.

I wanted my daddy. This. I forced my eyes open, watching him, but then he dragged me back under another wave of pleasure. I was so close—the fire doused when I blinked and Tommy G. hung over me, his hot breath licking my skin.

Daddy must’ve noticed how still I’d gotten, the waves of pleasure cooling with every thought of then. Cook stared at me intently, and I tried to focus on him.

On us.

On this moment.

Suddenly, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “Don’t blink.”

“What?” I mumbled.

“Did I stutter?” He paused after every word.

“No, sir.”

“Look at me. Do not blink.”

“Okay, Daddy,” I murmured, forcing my eyes wide on him.

Cook met my gaze as he gave his attention back to my pussy.

My abs trembled, threatening to send me back to oblivion. “Can I come, Daddy?”

He pulled away for a split second and a Cheshire cat smile curled on his lips. “Yes, Maddie.”

Then he worked my clit harder, and pleasure rolled me over until my heart felt like it would explode.

Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. Tears washed down my face as he dragged the orgasm from my body with only his mouth.

My body kept convulsing as he left my throbbing core and walked stiffly around the side of the bed. He wiped my juices from his beard and lips and bent over to kiss away the tears.

Softly in my ear, he whispered. “You’re so fucking pretty when you come on my beard, nizhóní. I’m sure it’ll be even prettier on my cock.”

“Please, Cook,” I begged. “I want you inside me. I’m so... empty.”

“You’re not ready.” He slid his thick fingers down my slit.

“I am ready.” I had been ready for him since the first real kiss we shared in the closet turned darkroom at our house. Maybe even before that.

“You’re not,” he growled, working his fingers up and down my slit.

“Can I touch you?” I searched his face as his gaze drifted up to my right hand then my left.

“Not tonight.”

He kept a steady pace in circling my clit, and it sent little shock waves that made my body shake from time to time. He appeared relaxed, casual, as he seemed to wait for something.

“Oh.” I gasped. “Ah.”

“Better,” he said and stood up.

He tightened the straps holding my arms again then circled back to the foot of the bed. I let out a disgruntled snort.

Daddy looked at me sideways with that wicked brow cocked. “Disappointed?”

I started to say, “Fuck yeah,” but noticed him unbuckling his belt and a small sounding “Yes” came out instead.

He doubled over the belt like the paddle had been and... thwack.

My hips bowed and I hissed in a breath.

Cook smirked as my hips lowered back onto the wedge. Looking down my body at him, my breathing stopped almost completely. His pants hung on his hipbones, the deep V and happy trail leading to the bulge in his boxer briefs. A wet spot darkened the gray material, and my mouth watered.

He reached a finger toward my vagina and slipped it through my wetness. “Perfection.”

As he pushed the briefs and jeans down, his long, thick cock burst free. Shit, it had to be twice the size of that dildo. And while the dildo seemed small, he might rip me in two with that thing.

The head was purple, beading with precum. Veins ran up his red and straining cock. It wanted more.

So did I.

I licked my bottom lip. “Yes, please.”

“All good things to those who wait.” He stood between my thighs, so close.

But he didn’t shove it inside. Instead, he dragged two fingers through my juices and stroked the length of him. More slick precum beaded on his tip, and I let out a little moan.

My neck hurt from craning it to see what was happening, but I didn’t fucking care. All I needed was his length to fill me to the brim, to pound inside, and to drive me into madness. Or away from it. Whatever. I didn’t care. My need consumed me whole.

“Daddy, please?” I begged.

He let go of his cock and scooted the wedge toward him, then he hooked his hands on my thighs just below my hips. When he pulled me forward, my shoulders lifted from the bed and my whole body swung from the restraints, mostly suspended. If he removed the wedge, I could easily swing back and forth from my tethers.

“Good,” he said, and I heard the crinkle of a wrapper.

He slipped a condom on his cock, hiding the natural color and the veins. The beauty of his male form, something I wanted to capture in a photograph, was gone.

Stepping up to me, Cook thumped his cock against my pussy, and I hissed as he lined up the tip with my channel. My walls twitched, readying my body for him. His fingers and tongue were different than this. The men who raped me rarely used their fingers but wielded their dicks like weapons. But right now, we met each other’s gazes.

Theyweren’t there.

This was Cook and me.

He slid forward, at the same time dragging me onto his cock. I flinched, bearing down on him, and he stopped. A vein in his neck throbbed. “Relax.”

I wasn’t sure I could, not even after the last two orgasms had me loose and needy. My stomach twisted. I was thinking too much. I wanted him.

“It’s going to hurt if you remain this tense.”

Good. I only nodded.

Then he drove into me hard, pushing away my lower lips and splitting me wide open. Pain slashed across my body. Hot lava seeped through my veins.

Once Cook was deep in me, he pinched my hips. His body and mine were joined. At long last. He had me splayed open, and I’d take whatever he gave. I would bend however he liked, twist and never snap.

“Oh God, Daddy, yes.” I panted and my body tried to adjust to him.

He looked down at me, dragging his eyes across my skin. Fire ignited across my skin in the trail of his gaze. He lingered long on my scars, and I fought not to shudder while he was inside of me. A small growl echoed from him, rumbling his cock deep inside of me. His balls rested on my ass.

“Adjust, Maddie,” said Cook through clenched teeth.

I didn’t move a muscle. I wasn’t comfortable, but I wanted him however he wanted me.

“Maddie,” urged Cook.

But I still didn’t move.

Suddenly, he pulled my hips toward him. My lower back no longer touched the wedge, and he dragged it from beneath my body. We were still connected, my body hovering over the bed, only held up by the straps and his strong hands.

“Ah, shit.” I whimpered.

There were too many pulling sensations in all my joints, and I couldn’t focus on locking down against the intrusion. It didn’t matter that others had been there—inside me—before him. In this position, he’d removed my ability to think. All I could do was feel.

He held me against him with one hand and reached up to pinch my nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. A small wave of pain bolted through me mixed with pleasure. He ran his thumb around the edge of my areola before pinching me again.

I no longer needed to see. All this Daddy did to me, and no one had done these specific things before. He made me forget. Gave me exactly what I needed.

“This is your last chance, Maddie,” said Cook.

Lost in everything I felt in my body and soul, I couldn’t answer.

He didn’t warn me again.

His hands gripped onto my hips, digging in as he slid almost all the way out. Then he pulled me forward to meet his thrust. I cried out and he grunted. Then he set a punishing pace, swinging me off his cock and back on. He continued pumping while he moved my body. Back and forth. Over and over.

My ass met his thighs with a slapping sound, punctuated by my squeaks and his grunts. The whole time, his cock massaged my inner walls. So much fuller than I’d been before. Stretched for him. Open to my daddy.

Incoherent words—yesses, ohs, ahs, fucks, gods, all of it—flowed from my lips, but Cook kept pounding me down onto his cock.

My orgasm started to build again, this time deep inside me rather than from my clit. I was helpless to do anything. To move. To fight it. To make it last longer, even though I didn’t want it to end. I never wanted us to be done.

A scream ripped through my throat as I detonated, but Cook didn’t slow down.

Didn’t stop.

If possible, he fucked me harder through the waves racking my body.

I didn’t want him to stop. Or slow. Or be softer.

He moved in and out of me quickly, jackhammering his hips forward.

“Let it out, Maddie,” growled Cook, hitching my hips up further. I didn’t normally bend this way. My back ached further away from the bed as I used the tension of my restraints to bend at an awkward angle. It made him hit me deeper and differently than anyone else who had ever been in my pussy.

I clenched my teeth together. Pleasure and pain blended until I couldn’t tell which was which. I was already sensitive, already floating toward an out-of-body experience. If this was death, I would die in Daddy’s arms a happy woman.

“Now, Maddie,” Daddy growled. “Come on my cock.”

Another orgasm was on me in a second, and I let out a moan.

“Gorgeous.” He didn’t slow or lessen how he fucked me.

I hadn’t come down from that orgasm when I came for a third time with him inside me. Cook plundered me in all the best places—places that I didn’t know existed and now only belonged to him. Like how I only belonged to him.

Before I could breathe again and recover—what the fuck was he doing to me? How could he do this to me?—he pushed me over the edge again.

I was a puddle of flesh when his fingers gripped my thighs harder. I craned my neck to meet his gaze, though his face had doubled, tripled, floated around me. I couldn’t tell what was up and what was down. Who needed to know when he fucked me like this?

With a roar, Cook came inside of me. His whole body jerked forward as his head dropped backward. His cock grew, plunging deeper, as his body locked up. His length twitched as he stood stock still, riding out his own orgasm.

I couldn’t say how long we stayed like that before he eased me off his cock. The full condom hung off his cock, and he walked over to the sink. Water ran.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I mumbled.

Vaguely, I felt a cool cloth pressed against my lower lips. The room was spinning around me, and I had absolutely no control over my body. The restraints loosened, lowering me to the bed. I felt my dress cover my body again and the cool cloth removed. I think I curled onto my side before giving up and embracing the darkened shadows around my vision.

I don’t know how long I drifted or what Cook did while I recovered.

But then, strong arms slipped under my shoulders and knees, cradling me against my Daddy’s chest.

A hand brushed hair away from my face, and a deep, gentle voice asked, “Can you ride, nizhóní?”