Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Dylan
Did she really think he could get enough of her in a single summer? If he had a hundred lifetimes with her, he’d never tire of touching her, tasting her.
Speaking of…
“You’re wearing entirely too many clothes, little girl.”
Her soft groan snapped the already tenuous hold he had on his self-control. Flipping her onto her back, he pressed her down into the couch, wedging himself between her thighs as his teeth scraped down the side of her neck.
For months he’d been dreaming of this moment, telling himself he’d take it slow, that he’d drown her in pleasure before finally claiming her.
But now that he was in the moment, all he could think of was burying himself in her. And judging by the way she was writhing under him, her soft gasps and moans filling the air, she was just as eager as him.
Slow and sweet could wait.
He was vaguely aware of something ripping, and then her shirt fell away, those gorgeous breasts he’d spent so many nights dreaming of finally bare to his gaze. Or mostly bare, other than the simple satin bra still covering her.
Bracing one hand on the arm rest behind her head, he used the other to tug her breasts free of the bra, running the pad of his thumb over her nipple. A shiver ran through her body and he grinned down at her as he did again.
“Do you like it when Daddy plays with your nipples, baby?”
Red flooded her cheeks and she let out a low whine in response. It was obvious she was enjoying herself, but he wanted to hear her say it. The fact that it embarrassed her only fed those dark, depraved parts of him that craved her total submission. “Use your words, baby. Tell Daddy what you want.”
“Dylan…”
Cupping her full breast in his palm, he squeezed the pink little bud between his thumb and forefinger. Sam bucked under him, her needy moans turning to cries of pain. “You know what I want you to call me, Samantha. Be a good girl and say it.”
“D-D-Daddy!” she cried out, and his blood heated in his veins at hearing her call him Daddy for the first time. “It hurts, please!”
Gentling his hold, he bent his head and laved at her abused nipple with his tongue. “That’s my good girl. Tell Daddy what you want.”
“Touch me. Please, Daddy.”
“Where?”
“There. Everywhere.” Her voice shook with shocked laughter. “God.”
“Good girl.”
Need, raw and naked, flashed in her eyes at his praise. “Fuck me. Now.”
He hadn’t thought anything she could say would convince him to slow down.
But those words, and the commanding tone she spoke them in, gave him the strength to rein in his raging libido.
Hovering over her, he let his lips curve, and nearly crowed with triumph at the flicker of fear in her dark eyes.
“Naughty, naughty girl. Is that how you talk to your Daddy?”
The little brat had the nerve to smirk at him. “It’s how I talk to the man who’s supposed to be fucking me right now.”
“Hmmm. Perhaps we need some ground rules before we continue.” Sitting up, he reached for the button of her dress pants, popping it open with a deliberate slowness, all while keeping his eyes locked on hers.
“One. Daddy gives the orders. Little girls may ask, politely, for something. But once you start getting bossy with Daddy, you forfeit your right to come for at least an hour.”
It was a delight, watching her eyes widen as he tugged her pants down over her lusciously thick thighs. “That’s not fair!”
“Oh, I happen to think it’s entirely fair. I know you’re used to being in charge at home, but that stops now. You want something from me, you ask politely or you’ll be punished. Am I understood, Samantha?”
Her breath caught, a lovely little sound that had his cock twitching in his pants as he ran his hands over her soft skin. “I-I’ll try.”
“Good girl,” he praised, lowering his head to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, earning him a needy little whimper from his beautiful babygirl.
“Rule two. No more swearing. I’ll allow the word ‘fuck’ when you’re asking for Daddy’s cock, but that’s it.
From now on, naughty words will get that pretty bottom of yours spanked, and if you can’t learn to control it, we’ll escalate to washing all those naughty words out of your mouth. ”
“Well that seems completely unreasonable.”
“Disagree. And since I’m the Daddy, I get to make the rules. Rule three,” he continued, rolling over her protests, “no more talking bad about yourself. I’ve been wanting to spank that particular habit out of you for years, so I will not be holding back.”
Beneath him, she went still, a frown tugging at her lips. “You make it sound like I do that all the time.”
“You do. But it stops now. I don’t care where we are or who we are with. One negative word about yourself and you will regret it. Am I understood?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t spank me in public. Or with other people around. Hard limit.”
“My naughty Little girl. Who said I had to spank you to teach you a lesson? A plug coated with peppermint or ginger oil will have you regretting your behavior just as effectively as a spanking, trust me.”
Now her eyes went round, her breath hitching as she sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh.”
“Mmhmm. Let’s see… Rule number four.” Leaning over her, he captured her wrists in one hand, pinning them over her head as she gasped softly.
“Your pleasure belongs to me now. Which means no getting yourself off without my permission and we’re going to start working on training you to hold off until Daddy gives you permission to come when we’re together. ”
“I don’t… I’ve never done that. I don’t know if I can.”
“Daddy will teach you.” Keeping her wrists trapped, he lowered his head, brushing his lips over the swell of her breasts.
“I don’t think this should need to be said, but the basic rules also apply.
No lying, no putting yourself in danger.
Oh. One more thing.” He let his lips curve, savoring the moment before he dropped his final bombshell.
“No more secrets. And that includes the playroom you usually keep locked up tight.”
Sam
Shock. That was the first feeling she registered. The pure surprise of his words that had her staring up at him, her brain scrambling to make sense of what he’d said.
But shock quickly gave way to panic. Icy tentacles wrapping around her lungs, squeezing the very air from them. “Get off me.”
Worry filled the warm green-gold of his eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“I’m not your baby. Get the fuck off of me, Dylan!”
Pushing backward, he knelt between her thighs, holding his hands up in the time-honored gesture of surrender. “Okay, I’m off. Talk to me, Sam. Is this about your playroom?”
Air. She needed air. She couldn’t fucking breathe. Scrambling off the couch, she headed straight for the kitchen.
If she couldn’t get air, she could damn well get some wine.
She didn’t even reach the wine rack before he was on her again, his hand firm but not painfully so around her arm. “Sam. We need to talk about this. Tell Daddy what’s wrong.”
Daddy. A word that had sounded like a promise just moments ago now felt more like a threat. “I told you, I don’t need or want a Daddy.”
“That wasn’t what it sounded like when I had you begging me to fuck you just now.”
Panic turned to fury, bubbling hot in her veins as she whirled to face him, not even caring that her breasts were still bare and tingling from his touch.
“You think you can just waltz in here, violate my privacy, and start playing Daddy just like that? You have no idea what being a Daddy means, because if you did you never would have gone poking around where you weren’t welcome. ”
The corners of his lips dipped down, and she swore she could see that brilliant mind of his working. “I can understand why you feel that way.”
“Of fuck you, Dylan. That’s such a cop-out.”
Anger flashed in his eyes, but only for a moment before they went cool again. “When we’re both feeling more settled, we’re going to have a discussion about your language. For now, I’d like a chance to explain.”
“Fine.” Jerking her arm from his grasp, she pulled her shirt closed to cover herself and turned back toward the wine rack. “You talk, I’m going to drink.”
“One glass, and then you’re done for the night.”
“Whatever.” She was being a brat, and she knew it, but being ordered around by a man young enough to be her son was turning out to be more grating than she’d expected. Or maybe it was just because she was still so furious with him.
“You are pushing your luck, little girl. Keep that attitude in check or you’ll find out exactly what I know about being a Daddy.”
She hated herself, and him, for the flash of aching need between her thighs at the threat. Pouring herself a generous glass of wine, she turned back to face him, making sure to keep her shirt closed tightly in front of her. “You said you wanted to explain, so explain.”
“I wasn’t snooping. I want that out in the open. As far as I knew, the only thing behind that door was your office.”
“You think that absolves you of violating my trust? The fact that I kept it locked should have been enough for you to stay the fuck out.”
Again with that flash in his eyes, this time accompanied by a muscle jumping in his jaw.
“It was. The day I discovered your playroom, it was completely by accident. I was up early one day—well, that’s not entirely truthful.
” A splash of red appeared on his cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair.
And damned if she didn’t want to do the same, even as pissed as she was.
The thought of sinking her fingers into those thick, soft locks while he…
Right. She was supposed to be mad, not fantasizing about holding onto his hair while he ate her out on her couch.
“I set my alarm early one Saturday, so I could be up before Ethan and have some time with you all to myself. It was the second time I’d spent the holidays with you, so I pretty much had your routine memorized. But you deviated from the routine.”
Warmth pooled in her belly at the knowledge he’d cared enough to learn her routines. Or maybe that was the wine.
Yeah, definitely just the wine.
Either way, she wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. “So it’s somehow my fault you broke into my room?”
“I didn’t say that. You weren’t home, but I didn’t realize that.
When I didn’t find you on the couch pretending to not watch the cartoons you always say you’re playing for ‘background noise’, I checked your office.
I knocked first, then tried the door. You must have forgotten to lock it the night before or something, because it opened right up. ”
“Oh.” That… actually made more sense than she wanted it to.
“Yeah. I closed the door as soon as I realized it wasn’t actually your office, but, well…”
“You can’t unsee what’s been seen.”
“Exactly.”
Well now she felt like a complete ass for jumping to conclusions. Not to mention cussing him out over it.
Embarrassment crept in, smothering all the other emotions she’d been clinging to during his explanation. “I guess I owe you an apology.”
“You do. But I owe you one, as well. I should have told you sooner rather than dropping it on you like that. At the very least I should have waited until our… emotions weren’t running quite so high.”
“Apology accepted. I’m sorry I freaked out and cussed at you.” Swirling her wine, she peeked up at him, one question still worrying at her. “Does Ethan know?”
“No, baby. I haven’t told him a single thing. Not about your playroom, or about that being what drove me to learn everything I could about Littles and Daddies so I could be everything you needed.”
Fucking hell. How was she supposed to keep this casual when he went around saying shit like that? “What if I’m not a Little? What if I’m just some weirdo who likes stuffed animals?”
A slow, wicked smile curved his lips as he plucked the wine glass from her hand and set it on the counter.
Placing his hands on her hips, he backed her up until the edge of the granite pressed into her back.
“And what if you’re just a naughty Little girl still trying to keep secrets from her Daddy? ”
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to keep her gaze locked on his. “That would be very naughty of me.”
“It would be. And what happens to naughty girls who keep secrets and use naughty words, Samantha?”
“Th-They get spanked?”
“Yes. Yes, they do.”