Bound to the Daddy (Knotted for Life)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

STEPHANIE

“Fuck.” The guttural groan washes down my spine, sending tingles through my clit.

My pussy tightens as a majestic Alpha growl rips from Brody’s throat and floods the room. His fingers curl into my hair, gripping me, giving me a bite of pain that never fails to make slick drip from me and slide down my inner thighs. I open my mouth a bit wider so I can take even more of him deep into my throat.

“That’s it,” he rasps, jutting his hips up, driving his massive cock deeper into me. “Almost there. Fuck Steph. Fuck. Keep going. Deeper. Fuck. Me.” His command ends with a long, drawn-out moan.

Honestly, it’s my favorite way of hearing my name said. That deep, husky, can’t control myself, sloppy utterance. Pulling back, I lock eyes with him, smirking as I drag the tip of my tongue from his swelling knot to the tip, lapping up his bitter precum.

His cock jerks as his eyes nearly cross. It’s a power I’ve learned to harness. Seeing him nearly incoherent from what I do gives me a thrill like none other. With another smile, I part my lips and wrap them around his tip before sucking hard.

“Jesus, Steph,” he barks out. “You’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that.”

I pull back and plant my hands on my hips. “Well, that is the idea, isn’t it?”

Get him off nice and good, so he’ll want nothing more than to return the favor. I can only hope he’s enjoying it as much as he’s letting on. Shoving those thoughts out of my head, I relax my jaw and open my mouth as wide as I can before sliding back down his shaft.

Saliva drips down his soft skin, easing my movements as I pump up and down. Despite the fact that he doesn’t get me off more often than not, I can’t deny I truly enjoy the act of giving. It turns me on like nothing else. With a satisfied hum buzzing in the back of my throat, I send the vibrations around his tip as he bumps up against my tonsils.

Nausea swirls in my gut, but I press on, rocking my head up and down. I slip my left thumb into my fist and squeeze hard, helping my gag reflex a touch. It’s not that I can’t take something touching the back of my throat. It’s more that his girth makes things a bit more difficult.

Anytime I pleasure him this way, I have to concentrate. Alphas are just so big, so overwhelmingly large. If I’m not careful, I can graze him with my teeth or choke. Even now, my breath comes in shallow gasps as I do my best to inhale every time I come up.

When he’s that far in, I can’t really get enough oxygen. My equilibrium tilts as I become a bit more lightheaded. But he doesn’t seem to notice or even care. His hands are back in my hair, guiding my movements as he uses me as a living, breathing, masturbatory device.

And honestly, it’s how I like it.

While I’m on my knees with his cock in my mouth, I can’t think about my lousy job, or the fact that it’s getting harder and harder each month to pay rent or even buy groceries. In this space, I’m a courtesan, a sex toy, and I’m very good at my job.

At least that’s what Brody’s moans tell me. His words never do. And so I have to go by how his body writhes at my touch, how his voice gets all quavery and whiny, and how his fingers grab me in such a possessive way.

“Yes,” he hisses, holding my head down as his knot begins to swell. “Fuck me, yes!”

There’s no way in hell I can fit that monstrosity in my mouth. Wrapping my fingers around the girthy knot, I squeeze and release, mimicking how I think my pussy would feel wrapped around him. Not that I would know.

Apparently knotting is a wifey privilege. Until, or rather, if , the government puts us together, it’s all penetration and no knotting. Which is a ridiculous hill to die on, but I’ll never force him to do something he doesn’t want to do.

With another set of squeeze and releases, I hold my breath and brace as his cum shoots into my mouth and down my throat. It’s hot, bitter, but wholly addicting. A rush of satisfaction flutters down my spine and clenches deep in my pussy.

His satisfied roar as he pours himself down my throat reaffirms his pleasure and thus heightens my own. My body tingles as I swallow him up, lapping at every drop so I don’t waste even a single one. Perhaps there’s help programs for people like me addicted to Alphas.

Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m just hard-wired to want a massive cock shoved in any hole it desires. But I know other omegas who can take it or leave it... So it’s probably just me. No one else I know seems to have such a massive appetite.

Lifting from his deflating cock, I wipe my lips and give him a smirk. “Okay. My turn.”

“Ahhh, babe. I can’t. I wish I could. But I have a thing down at the Digital Currency Commission.”

I sit back on my heels and frown. “But didn’t you already have a meeting with the DCC yesterday?”

He gets up and starts grabbing his clothes from the closet. “Yesterday was about a new type of digital currency they were hoping to unveil. Today is streamlining the process. You know how it is. But hey,” he shoots me a finger gun. “That was awesome. Just what I needed to get my head on straight.”

“I... I suppose.”

“Look,” he leans over and kisses my cheek. “I’ll get you next time. You know I’m good for it.”

A weary sigh drifts from my lips as I root around in the bed for my clothes. I hate that he’s right. I hate that he’s so fucking good at what he does that I salivate at the mere thought of him putting his head between my thighs.

It’s what keeps me coming back day after day. It’s this itch that only he can scratch. Since the day he was my first, he was my only... If he’d just play fair, maybe things wouldn’t feel so hopeless between us at times.

But what can I do? He’s all I know. But then, maybe it’s time to change that. As good as he is, there has to be better. There has to be someone who can actually put my needs first and not as an earth-shattering afterthought.

“What makes you think I’ll still be here for you to reciprocate?” I half say to myself, not really intending the words to come out.

Unfortunately, they do, and for a moment, they just hang in the air. As much as I want to draw them back in, I can’t. Not that Brody seems all that affected, anyway.

His lips slide up into that half smirk of his as he waves my statement off. “Awww, c’mon, Steph. Don’t be that way. You know I’m a busy man with important things to do. You’ve known this since we hooked up in high school. I mean, I’m a Rothsbourne, for God’s sake.”

“Pretty sure your dad wouldn’t want you dabbling in digital currency. I know that much.”

“Okay. Now you’re just mean. Look. I’ve had this meeting on the books. If you even bothered to look at the schedule...”

“Fine,” I finally breathe out. “You know what? You’re right. I’m wrong. Go to your meeting.”

“You’re a doll. Hey. Remember. I’ll get you next time.”

“Sure. I know you will.”

“That’s my girl. Hey. The maid isn’t coming again until Friday. If you could put these sheets in the wash for me before you leave, that would be amazing. And maybe tidy up the space a bit? You know, put the womanly touch on it?”

He reaches into the pocket of one of his designer suits, no doubt purchased by daddy dearest. Out pops a few bills that he plops onto the bed. “Don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate you.”

I resist the urge to be snide and make some off handed comment about how it’s real, physical money instead of the make-believe shit deals in. But the truth is, I need that cash to get me enough gas to get back home and to work until I get paid again.

“I would never think that,” I reply, allowing a hint of sarcasm into my voice. “You’re far too good for me.”

“Awww babe. It’s what I do. Hey. Who’s my prettiest girl?”

Again, another sigh drifts from my lips as we do this song and dance. “Me?”

“Bingo. I’ll see you soon. Make sure to put it on the calendar, so I know.”

With that, he leaves me alone in a pile of sheets, pillows, and dirty clothes. The room still smells like him and his cum, coating me from the inside out. I can’t seem to think clearly when it’s around me, on me, and fucking in me. Letting out a groan of frustration, I start to clean up the guesthouse.

Mumbled curses and promises to make things different fly from my lips as I hurl the sheets into the machine. Unfortunately, he didn’t tell me if he wanted me to actually stay and put the laundry in the dryer or not. But maybe that’s what the money was for?

I shove my hand into my pocket and pull out the wad. It makes me feel like a common whore. Part of me thinks he would never intentionally do that to me, but I just can’t tell anymore.

With laundry going, I walk over to the hub on his counter and open up the calendar. Booked. The mother fucker is booked out for the next few weeks.

“Argh,” I cry out in frustration, flipping through until I find the next available date. “Can’t you just fucking go down on me without me having to fucking schedule it?”

“I mean, it’s a bit unorthodox, but if you insist. Not sure how Brody will feel about it though,” a deep voice purrs behind me.

Goosebumps explode over my skin as I turn around and face Rex Rothsbourne himself. He looks me up and down and smirks, making my stomach flip. Like father, like son, I guess. He has that same commanding demeanor, only his feels far more predatory where Brody feels like he’s trying very hard to follow in his daddy’s shoes but keeps coming up short.

Heat fans my face as I note the raise in his eyebrow as he stares me down. Unfortunately, I’m the one to look away first. Just like every time he catches my gaze. Moments tick by as he simply stays silent, watching me, before looking down to fiddle with his designer watch.

How many times did I touch myself at night while imagining him looming over me, telling me to come like a good girl? Only to be faced with the reality of actually shacking up with his son? It’s sick, I know, but part of me keeps coming back to Brody because I hope and pray he’ll turn out like his dad.

I definitely need to get therapy once I can afford it. In fact, maybe I should just take this as a sign to cut ties and find a situation that’s less... toxic. It’s not as if I’m just deliriously happy here. I just haven’t found a situation that works. Again, not that I’ve been looking.

“Sorry, Mr. Rothsbourne. I-”

“How many times have I asked you to call me Rex?”

For a moment, all I can do is stare at the imposing Alpha before me, my face heating up from his not-so-gentle rebuke. As much as I hate being in trouble, I can’t deny the slight clenching in my gut as he stares down at me, demanding an answer. None of this makes any sense.

Clearing my throat, I shove aside all of those wrong feelings and focus on answering the question. “Since I first started doing group projects with Brody.” Unable to fully articulate why it feels so wrong without also betraying these inappropriate feelings, I merely shrug, hoping for it to settle this and end the conversation. “Sorry. Something about calling you Rex just doesn’t feel right.”

His soft chuckle floods the room, making my head spin, as he leans forward. “Would calling me Daddy feel better? More right somehow?”

My world tips for a moment as I stare at the man, dumbfounded by what I just heard. But then he laughs even harder, throwing his head back as if it’s all a huge joke.

“I- I don’t know if that’s...”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Just a little dad humor. Think nothing of it. But you do realize you’re a grown woman. Right? You don’t have to call me Mr. Anything. Rex is perfectly acceptable.”

“I get that, Mr.- Rex,” I fumble. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

He brushes off my words as he looks around. “Where’s Brody? I want to speak with him.”

“Oh. Sorry. You just missed him. He’s at a meeting.”

With a fierce frown that makes my insides clench, he leans past me to flip through the calendar. The heat from his skin scalds me, even through both of our clothes. Every breath is laced with the scent of cologne and the unmistakable spice of his skin.

God, have I ever been this close to him before? It’s insanity. That’s what this is. I shouldn’t want my boyfriend’s dad. It’s just sexual frustration that has me wanting his touch, even if it’s just an innocent pat on my shoulder.

But he doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t even brush up against me as he pulls back, his frown even deeper. “Damned DCC. Such a stupid waste of time and money.”

“Exactly what I said,” I grumble, grabbing a few things off the counter so I can put them in the sink.

“You always were a smart girl.” He pauses and crinkles his nose. “What are you doing? We have a maid for that.”

“Brody said she wasn’t coming and asked if I could clean up. I mean... I use this space too, occasionally… So. I figure why not.”

With an exasperated sigh, the Rex Rothsbourne takes the dishes from me and puts them into the sink himself. “I’ll get Emily to come over and clean this place up. It’s not your job to do. I swear, some days, I feel like you’re way too good for my son.”

I shrug, not sure how else to respond. “I mean, this is probably going to be my last time here, anyway. It’s the least I can do.” Again, not at all what I need to be saying, but it seems as if my mouth just doesn’t want to obey me right now.

His eyes narrow as he looks me up and down. “Oh?” He growls, once more invading my space. “Did my son do something to you?” There’s a concern there underneath his stern gaze, but there’s also something more, something… primal.

I must be reading into things. There’s no way Mr. Rothsbourne can feel anything for me other than familial concern. It’s just not right otherwise.

“No,” I groan as my mouth and brain refuse to cooperate with each other. “That’s the problem.” I clap a hand over my mouth, heat pouring off my face as I look down at the floor.

Fucking mouth. Fucking brain. Fucking everything going wrong today.

An irritated sigh flits from my lips as I look around to make sure I’m not leaving anything behind. “Sorry. Gotta run. My shift starts in a bit, and I want to clean up first.”

“There’s a shower right behind you,” he says in that ridiculously erotic rasp of his.

Is it my imagination, or does his eyes get darker as he talks to me? Shaking my head, I dispel the notion and note his eyes are just his normal, intense dark blue that they always are.

“I’ve been here long enough. It’s okay. I still have hot water back at my place. For now at least,” I tease. Instantly, I sober up as his expression turns concerned. “It’s a joke. Albeit a dumb one. Seeing as you probably never had to deal with stuff like this,” I babble. “You know, I’m going to shut up now.”

“Do you need any money?” Without waiting for me to say anything, he reaches for his wallet like it’s nothing.

Just like Brody. It means nothing. And to be chucking it at me so freely makes me wonder if I truly mean nothing. Or if I’m just another commodity to them.

“Brody already gave me some. It’s all good.”

“Not that digital crap,” he growls out.

“No.” A nervous giggle erupts from my throat. “Not digital.”

“Listen.” His voice turns deadly serious as he steps in closer. “I’ve known you for years now. You’re like a daughter to me in some ways. If you need anything. And I mean anything. Trust me to take care of anything. I’m good for it.”

And just like that, it’s as if cold water dumps on me, killing any growing ardor. Like father, like son, after all. Of course, he’s fucking good for it.