Chapter 19 #2
“What’s up, Papa?” His voice was scratchy with fatigue, probably from an all-nighter patching up the club’s security system.
“Hey, I got a weird request,” I said, glancing at the stairs to make sure Aspen was still downstairs, humming to herself while she worked.
“I was wondering if you could pull together some things for me from your playroom? Just the basics. Maybe a nice soft blindfold, some restraints, you know, beginner stuff.”
He laughed long and low. “You planning on making your mate howl tonight?”
“Something like that,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t own any of that shit. Never thought I’d have anyone special enough that I’d need it. I just want to give her a night to really unwind. Like, the whole nine yards.”
“Yeah, man, I got you.” There was shuffling on his end, maybe him digging through the closet or a locked trunk. “You want the leather cuffs or the padded? I’ll even toss in a soft flogger like the one you used at Kozlov’s club.”
I snorted. “Class act. Pack me a sampler, would you? I’ll swing by after close. Aspen can wait in the truck.”
He grunted, but there was affection underneath it. “She’s good for you, Papa. Never seen you so alive.”
“She’s everything,” I said, surprised at the catch in my own voice. “Thanks, brother.”
“Anytime,” he said, then hung up.
As we locked up, Aspen looked at me and smiled, tired but content. “Thank you for everything today,” she said.
I cupped her face and kissed her softly. “Anytime, Sunshine.”
She touched the spot where I’d kissed her, then nodded at Oscar, who was already snoring on his back, paws twitching like he was chasing something in his dreams.
“Let’s take him home,” I said.
She laughed. “He deserves a treat. And so do you.”
We left the bakery behind, the prairie sun low and gold over the horizon, and I promised myself I’d make tonight special for her. After everything she’d survived, she deserved more than protection—she deserved to know what it felt like to be truly cherished.
I’d figure out how to do that, even if it killed me.
I locked up, double-checked every latch, then ushered Aspen out into the chilly dusk. She shivered, so I wrapped my jacket around her and held her close as we walked to the truck.
“What’s the plan tonight?” She asked, eyes hopeful and a little shy.
I wanted to say, “Ruin you, in the best possible way,” but I bit it back. “Something you won’t forget,” I said, and kissed her hair.
Wrecker's driveway was empty except for Parker’s fancy sports car and his fancy Ford. I told Aspen to wait in the cab. “I’ll be two seconds, I promise.” Then I jogged up to the front door.
Wrecker answered in jeans and a t-shirt, bare arms covered in ink, his hair still damp from the shower.
“Got your care package,” he said, handing me a heavy black duffel with reinforced handles. It clinked, like there were more than just restraints inside.
“Extras?” I asked, one brow up.
He shrugged, a wicked grin on his face. “I added the stuff you liked at Kozlov’s club. And a couple new things, just in case you’re feeling creative.” His gaze softened, voice lowering. “She’s gonna love it, man. Just be gentle. That one’s got a heart like a biscuit.”
“She’s tougher than she looks,” I said, but I smiled at the truth of it. “You and Parker doing okay?”
He nodded. “She’s a handful. But she’s worth the trouble.” He patted my shoulder, firm and final. “Go knock her socks off, Big Papa.”
I waved the bag and headed out; the gravel crunching under my boots.
Aspen watched me load the duffel behind the seat. “What’s in there?” She asked, voice barely a whisper.
“Surprise for later,” I said. “You trust me?”
Her green eyes were steady and clear. “Yes. Always.”
Back home, I hung the duffel in the closet and told Aspen to meet me in the bedroom after she washed up.
She went, with a little nervous energy in her steps, and I could hear her run the faucet, brush her teeth, and whisper something to Oscar as he snoozed in his travel basket. I changed into a pair of black athletic shorts, then set up the room: dimmed the lights, drew the curtains.
She came in a minute later, wrapped in nothing but a towel, cheeks flushed pink. She stopped just inside the doorway, uncertain.
“Come here, Sunshine,” I said, voice soft.
She obeyed, and I tugged her gently into my arms, feeling the warmth of her bare skin through the thin cotton. I kissed her temple, then slid the towel off her shoulders. She gasped, suddenly shy, but I kept my hands on her arms, grounding her.
“I want to try something tonight,” I said, keeping my tone even. “If you hate it, say so. I’ll stop. But I think you’ll like it.”
She nodded, breath trembling.
“First, I want you to relax. Can you do that for me?”
She nodded again, and I led her back to the bathroom, where I ran a bath for her. I added lavender and a handful of sage from the garden and made sure it was steaming hot. The air was thick with scent, and the water shimmered in the low light.
“Get in,” I said, and she did, sliding under the surface with a sigh. The water came up to her chest, and I knelt beside the tub and traced a finger down her collarbone.
She shivered, but not from the cold. “You’re so gentle,” she whispered.
“Not always,” I promised, and she smiled, anticipating what was coming.
I reached for some bath wash and a washcloth, then lathered her skin—slow circles on her arms, her shoulders, down the slope of her back and over her hips.
She let her head fall back against the rim, eyes closed, trusting me completely.
I lifted her leg and ran the cloth down one side and up the other.
When I reached the top, I lightly grazed her pussy as I turned my hand and felt wetness that was more than the bathwater.
Then I ran the cloth down her other leg.
“Mmm you’re a tease,” she murmured.
“Only a little bit,” I said as I grazed her clit this time and she shuddered a little.
I leaned down and gave her a small kiss, my tongue reaching out and giving her lips a small lick as she tried to lean up for more.
“Uh uh. Tonight, you take only what I give you, Sunshine. But not to worry. I’m going to give you so much.”
Her surprised face was so adorable.
When I rinsed her, the water turned milky with suds and herbs. I lifted her hand, kissed her palm, then trailed kisses up the inside of her arm to the hollow of her elbow.
She made a soft sound, half moan, half plea.
“Are you ready for what I have in store?” I asked, and she nodded, her eyes glassy with want.
I helped her out, wrapped her in a thick towel, and dried the ends of her hair with another. She stood there, flushed and perfect, while I finished toweling off her legs and feet. Then I scooped her up, carried her to the bed, and set her down on the fresh cotton sheets.
I went to the closet and returned with the duffel, unzipping it slow so she could see every step. She watched, curiosity and hunger fighting for space on her face.
I stood her at the foot of our canopy bed.
I pulled out the padded cuffs first—soft black leather, lined with lambswool. I showed them to her, let her touch the material, then wrapped one around her wrist and buckled it, snug but not tight. She shivered again, but this time with anticipation.
“Do you trust me?” I asked one more time.
“Yes,” she said, voice strong now.
I cuffed the other wrist, then pulled her to me to the foot of the bed. I used the connecting strap to secure her hands above her head when I looped it over the wrought-iron bar of the canopy. She stood facing me, arms extended, breasts rising and falling with each breath.
Next came the blindfold—silk, soft and cool. I tied it behind her head, careful to keep her hair from snagging.
“You look beautiful. But I need you to stand with your legs spread for me please,” I said, and she blushed, even though she couldn’t see me. She did as she was told. Such a good girl.
“Now what?” she asked, voice a little shaky.
“Now you just feel,” I said.
I let my hands roam—down her arms, over her ribs, circling her nipples with my thumbs until they stood hard and pink. She moaned, twisting her hips. I pinched one nipple, then soothed it with a kiss, switching to the other and repeating until she was squirming.
I reached for the next item in the bag—a small, soft leather flogger, the tails fine and supple as suede. I brushed it over her belly, her thighs, the curve of her hip. She jerked, surprised, but then melted into it as I flicked it lightly over her inner thighs.
“You like that?” I asked.
“Yes, sir,” she gasped.
I worked up a rhythm, letting the strands tease her breasts, her belly, then back to her thighs. Each stroke left a faint red trail, and soon her skin glowed with heat.
I stopped and knelt between her legs, running my hands up the inside of her thighs. She was soaked, the scent of her need mixing with lavender and sage. I licked a stripe up her pussy, tasting her, and she arched up, straining against the cuffs.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“Patience,” I said, and reached for the next surprise.
But I paused just a moment to look at her—flushed, trembling, helpless and completely safe in my hands. She trusted me. She wanted this. And I wanted to give her the whole fucking world.
“Papa?” she whispered, and I knew she was ready for whatever came next.
I smiled, even though she couldn’t see it, and bent down to kiss her, gentle, slow, promising her everything.
The real fun was just beginning.
I let her squirm for a moment before I moved on.
I reached into the duffel, grabbed the little purple vibe Wrecker had slipped in, and thumbed it on low.
The sound was almost nothing, but Aspen flinched, her breath hitching in the sweetest way.
I trailed the tip over her nipple—she jolted, almost yelped, then bit her lip.
I circled it, flicked the speed up a notch, and watched her whole body tense.
“You good?” I asked, pausing just long enough to let the question register.