Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Sam
It rained the whole way home, which did nothing to improve her mood. Apparently, it was just One of Those Days and literally nothing short of a strong drink and hiding away under the covers was going to fix it.
Only, she couldn’t even do that without being rude, because Dylan was there. If he knew what was good for him, he’d taken the hint during their text exchange earlier and he would leave her the fuck alone.
She wasn’t in the mood to deal with him and his delusions of Daddy Dom grandeur.
But it was clear the moment she stepped through the front door that she wasn’t going to get her way, at least not without a fight.
Fuck.
The familiar scent of tomato sauce and bubbling hot cheese had her mouth watering as she kicked off her shoes by the front door. Okay, so pizza had been a good call. That didn’t mean anything.
And finding a gorgeous man in her kitchen, still dressed in his work clothes with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone wasn’t all that bad either. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched as he moved around the room, sleek and surprisingly graceful.
Then he spotted her, and the smile that lit his face was joy so pure it couldn’t be faked. How the hell was she supposed to stand firm when he looked at her like she was the fucking sun, moon, and stars?
Figuring nobody was that damn strong, she turned on her heel and headed for her bedroom, deliberately ignoring the pull in the opposite direction. Toward her Little room and Mr. Snuggles.
No matter how crappy she was feeling, she was not about to expose that side of herself. It was bad enough he was so intent on being her Daddy when he had no clue she was actually a Little. He might have his suspicions, but that didn’t mean she had to confirm them for him.
A quick shower to make up for the one she’d missed that morning and a pair of soft leggings and an oversized t-shirt improved her mood marginally.
And, as much as she hated to admit it, so did the giant glass of red wine and slice of pizza holding approximately two pounds of various kinds of meat she found sitting on the coffee table in her living room.
She dropped onto the couch beside him and picked up the wine first, deliberately ignoring the pizza. A Daddy would tell her she needed food in her tummy first, right?
“That bad, huh?” Sympathy was woven into every word as Dylan simply reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Wanna talk about it?”
It shocked her to realize she did. Not so much that she wanted to talk about her day, but that she specifically wanted to talk about it with him.
The man was dangerous, but she drained her glass anyway and set it on the coffee table beside her still-untouched pizza.
Shifting in her seat to face him, she studied him for a long moment.
If he really wanted a relationship with her, this was part of the gig.
Better for him to find out right sooner rather than later how much of a neurotic mess she could be when things didn’t go her way, right?
Better, certainly, than for her to pretend to be someone she wasn’t for six months, only to slowly let him see those needy, vulnerable parts of herself and then scare him off after she’d already developed feelings.
“Yeah, I do wanna talk about it.”
So she did. From waking up late and not being able to take a shower, which always made her feel weird and gross during the day, to the accident that nearly made her miss her own presentation, to her asshole boss giving her crap all day, to the system crash that had sent everyone into a panic, all the way up to her absolutely shitty drive home in the rain.
Through it all, he just… listened. At one point, he silently leaned over and refilled her wine glass before handing it back to her, but he never interrupted, never offered “helpful” suggestions on what she could have or should have done differently.
And when she was done, the corners of his lips lifted slightly in a sympathetic smile. “That sounds like a really rough day. What do you need from me?”
If there existed on this Earth a woman strong enough to resist that kind of seduction, Samantha had never met her.
Still holding her half-empty second glass of wine, she straddled him, one knee on either side of him pressing into the couch cushions. The thick bulge of his cock pressed against her suddenly aching pussy and she rolled her hips against him. “Would it be too forward to say I need you to fuck me?”
“Not at all. But I don’t fuck women who have too much alcohol in their systems to think clearly.”
“A glass and a half is nothing. I’m thinking perfectly clearly.”
“The answer is no, little girl.”
Her bottom lip immediately puffed out in a pout, and somewhere in the far recesses of her mind she realized he had a point about her not thinking clearly if she was slipping so easily into “bratty little girl” mode right in front of him. “Not fair.”
“Trust me, I don’t want to tell you no anymore than you want to hear it. And I’ll happily take you up on that offer another day, when you’re stone-cold sober and won’t hate us both in the morning.”
“What if I promise not to hate anybody?”
“Samantha…”
“Oh, all right.” With a huff of aggravation, she moved to climb off his lap, but he gripped her hips, holding her in place with a smile that could only be described as mischievous tugging at his lips.
“I said I wouldn’t fuck you tonight. I never said you couldn’t sit on my lap and snuggle.”
“I can’t sit here all night. You’ll lose the circulation in your legs and then you’ll hate me because my fat ass paralyzed you.”
It didn’t take a genius to know that was the wrong thing to say to a man who fancied himself a Daddy. Even before his eyes darkened or his jaw set, she knew she’d fucked up.
“Since I am also not in the habit of spanking naughty little girls who have had too much to drink, we can talk about that comment tomorrow. For now, I think you need to get some pizza in your tummy to soak up some of that wine.”
Shame washed over her, hot and heavy as she nodded.
He released her long enough for her to grab her pizza, but she didn’t return to his lap.
Snuggling on the couch with pizza and a movie was a hell of a lot more intimate than sex, and just then she felt like she might break apart into a million pieces if he so much as touched her.
She didn’t even know why she’d said such a thing.
Sure, her body was curvier than it had been at sixteen, but wasn’t everyone’s?
And even if she sometimes worried about the softness of her stomach or the thickness of her thighs, she’d certainly never said anything like that about herself out loud, not even to her girlfriends.
So why the hell had she said it now, and to Dylan of all people? The answer was there, in her brain, but it was as though she was trying to reach through jell-o to grasp it.
Okay, so maybe she wasn’t thinking super clearly. Which meant Dylan had been right to turn her down.
Asshole.
Blinking back the tears blurring her vision, she took a bite out of her pizza, but it might as well have been dirt for all she could taste of it.
“Sam… Come here. Please.”
“No.”
The petulance in her voice made her cringe. She was caught in some weird place between Big and Little, with no clue which direction she wanted to go.
“You sure? You look like you could use a cuddle.”
Whatever resistance she’d had crumbled at those simple words. Abandoning her food once again, she climbed back into his lap, pressing her face into his neck as his arms came up to wrap around her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not usually so… ridiculous.”
“One, I don’t think you’re being ridiculous. I think you’ve had a hard day, and having me here probably hasn’t helped. And for that, I’m sorry. As much as I want to be your Daddy, the last thing I want to do is pile more stress on top of you. Forgive me?”
“You don’t have to apologize. I’d be a neurotic mess with or without you here.”
“I’m going to ignore that for now, but tomorrow we’re going to have a serious discussion about how you talk about yourself.”
“Uh-huh. What’s two?”
“What?”
“You said ‘One, I don’t think you’re being ridiculous’. What’s two?”
“Ah.” The sternness cleared from his tone, leaving behind pure masculine satisfaction.
“Two, there’s no need for you to apologize because I’m enjoying the fuck out of this right now.
Obviously not the part where you’re upset and stressed, but the part where you need me to comfort you and love on you? Yeah, I love that shit.”
Sincerity rang out in every word, so much so that she lifted her head to meet his eyes, stunned when she saw that same sincerity reflected in the hazel depths. “You actually mean that, don’t you?”
“I do. But I also know you’re not really in a good place to have this talk, so it can wait until tomorrow. For now, I want nothing more than to cuddle on the couch and finish our dinner while we enjoy this absolutely goofy romantic comedy I found for us to watch.”
“That sounds amazing.”
Dylan
This time, he was the one who didn’t sleep worth a damn, tossing and turning all night as he relived the events of the evening over and over in his mind.
Had he pushed too hard? Not hard enough? At times, it felt like he was stepping right over the boundaries of what was appropriate given she hadn’t actually agreed to be his Little girl yet.
And at the same time, it had nearly killed him to tell her no when she’d all but begged him to fuck her.
If nothing else, he’d been sorely tempted to find out just how delicious her pussy actually was.
He’d dreamed of that moment just as often as he’d imagined spanking her for the first time, or of finally getting his cock inside of her.
Having everything he’d ever wanted so close without being able to fully claim her was harder than he’d anticipated.
His alarm went off a full thirty minutes earlier than it needed to, because he’d set it for the same time as Sam’s first alarm. Judging by what she’d told him the night before, a chunk of her problems the previous day had stemmed from waking up late and feeling rushed.
Which was just the kind of problem a Daddy could easily fix.
After rolling out of bed himself and using the bathroom, he made his way through the living room to her bedroom and knocked on the door.
“Go ‘way,” came the muffled reply, and he couldn’t help but grin at how adorably disgruntled she sounded.
“Rise and shine, Sam. Time to get that cute butt of yours in the shower.”
“Too early.”
“Agreed. But you have to get up anyway.”
He paused with his ear to the door until he heard her moving around. At some point, he was fairly certain he heard her mumble something along the lines of “bossy asshole”, and he just barely swallowed a chuckle.
Satisfied she wouldn’t be as rushed this morning, he made his way back to his room to get ready for his own day.
And if he added an extra splash of the cologne she’d once said she liked, or took a little extra care with his outfit, it was all more than worth it to watch her eyes go wide over the rim of her coffee cup when he stepped into the kitchen.
“Morning, beautiful. Have you eaten?”
“Not really a breakfast person.”
Hmm. He’d have to see about that. In the meantime, he settled for living dangerously. With one hand, he plucked her coffee cup from her grasp while the other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her up onto her tip-toes so he could brush a soft kiss across her lips.
“I have to get going. Be good, and I’ll see you tonight.”
He allowed himself another whisper of a kiss before he handed her back her coffee cup and turned to leave.
Your move, babygirl.