Chapter 5
Chapter Five
EMMA
My eyes refuse to open. It’s like someone’s glued them shut.
When I try to move, it's almost impossible.
I'm swimming in a pool of chocolate syrup.
There's something wrong with my body. I know all the weight holding me down can't be my own. Along with the weight, there’s a soreness between my legs that is starting to grow stronger.
Finally, I manage to peel my eyelids open just enough to see darkness. My room. My bed.
"Hello?" My voice comes out cracked, barely a whisper.
The weight shifts. I feel it then—something inside me, hot and thick, moving. How is that even possible? I must be dreaming. I need Daddy to wake me up.
As the fog in my head starts to clear, panic hits.
Someone's here. Someone's in me.
I try to scream, but it comes out as a tiny whimper.
"Daddy," I try again, the word tearing from my throat. "Daddy, help me." I cry out louder, knowing he will save me. The weight goes utterly still as my eyes start to adjust to the darkness. Then a voice, low and familiar, breathes against my ear.
"I'm right here, pretty girl." I blink a few more times. Then I see him. He's right there, above me. His face is inches from mine, sweat shining on his forehead.
"Daddy?" I say, trying to make sense of what’s happening. He's the one crushing me. He's the one... inside me. "What—"
"Shh." He kisses my forehead, my cheek, and my mouth. It’s the same way he always has, but then his tongue pushes past my lips. He's never done that before.
I taste whiskey and something that’s only him. It makes my stomach clench as I let him do it.
"Don't be scared. I've got you," he reassures me.
"But it hurts." He’s stretching me between my legs, and it burns.
There’s a deep ache along with it that feels bad but good. Like when I eat ice cream and get a brain freeze. I can't make sense of whether I should keep going or stop.
"I know, baby." He pulls back slowly, his hips rolling, and I feel every inch of him sliding through me. Then he pushes forward again, filling me completely. I gasp at the sensation. "You'll get used to it. I promise."
I push at his chest with my palms. My arms are working more, but barely. Not that it matters. I could never move Daddy. He's the strongest man in the world.
Daddy's breath hitches, and his eyes fall closed for a moment, like he's savoring it. He groans, low and guttural, and thrusts harder into me. The bed hits the wall, and I hear the unicorn painting over it rattle.
"That's it," he whispers, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head with one hand. "Fight me a little. Show Daddy how strong you are. Go on, pretend I’m the deliveryman you let stare at your body. He’s come back to collect."
I whimper, squirming beneath him, but the movement only drives him deeper. He likes this. He likes me struggling, likes me trapped beneath him while he works himself inside me.
"Daddy, I don't—" I start, but he cuts me off with another kiss, deeper this time.
"Would you rather it were him doing this to you?"
"No!" I gasp. I'm not even allowed to have boys in my room.
"You can do this for me," he murmurs against my lips. His free hand strokes my hair and my face, tender even as he holds me down. "I do everything for you, don't I? I work so hard to give you what you want. This is all you have to do in return."
He’s right. He does do everything. He takes care of me and protects me from the world. He's always been there, always watching. He's all I've ever had or known.
When he releases my wrists, I don’t try to push him off of me. My hands go flat against his chest, and I feel his heartbeat thundering against my palms. He's so big and heavy, shadowing me with his massive size.
"There's my pretty girl," he whispers as I soften beneath him. He cups my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. "You feel so good. So perfect. I've waited so long for this."
"I didn't know," I breathe. "I don't understand."
"There is nothing to understand. Good little girls are supposed to take care of their daddies. Right?"
I nod in agreement. That I do understand. "What's inside of me?"
"Our little secret." Daddy keeps rocking on top of me, the bed lightly creaking.
"Is it allowed?" I whisper. Daddy doesn't even let me watch the television when people start removing their clothes.
"Who's in charge?" I hear the warning in his tone, but I don't need it. I know the answer.
"You," I tell him, and he smiles at me. Daddy has all the answers, and he makes the rules. If he's doing this to me, then it must be right. "I'm sorry, Daddy." Tears prick my eyes. "I didn't know you needed this. Shouldn't I have been doing it all along?"
"Don't be sorry." He kisses my tears and licks them from my skin. "Just let me have you. Let me use this pretty little body the way I need to. You can do that, can't you? You can help Daddy with his needs?"
His words settle low in my belly. Help Daddy. That's all I've ever wanted. To be good for him and to do whatever it takes to make him happy.
"Yes," I say, more confident now. "I can do it, Daddy. I want to help you."
Daddy sucks in a deep breath, and his eyes go dark. "My good girl. My perfect, sweet girl. You're taking me so well now. Look how wet you've gotten for Daddy." He thrusts into me harder, faster, losing the careful rhythm he'd maintained.
I glance down between us, following his gaze, and I see it—the way my body accepts him.
The pain has twisted into something else, something good. It makes me arch my hips up to meet his thrusts.
"No," Daddy growls out, and I freeze. "Be still. Don’t act like a whore, Emma. Only sluts would try to fuck their daddy."
"Yes, sir," I agree and go completely still. I don’t move as I pretend to be one of my pretty dolls.
He groans, burying his face in my neck. "Never. I'll never stop. You're mine now. Every night, Emma. Every single night, I'm going to come to you like this, and you're going to spread your legs. You're going to be Daddy's good little girl, aren't you?"
"Yes," I gasp, the word torn from me as he hits some spot that makes my vision blur. "Yes, Daddy, yes."
"That's it. Take it all. Take everything Daddy gives you."
I feel him swelling inside me and the tension coiling in his body. Daddy's face contorts almost painfully, and I want to ask if he's okay, but I can't get any words out. At that moment, an explosion of happiness crashes through me in waves, and I gasp.
"Emma," Daddy chokes out as warmth blooms between my thighs, inside my lily. Then he collapses on top of me, heavy and soaked with sweat.
We stay like that for a long time, breathing hard. Eventually, he lifts his head and looks at me—really looks at me—and I see everything in his eyes. The hunger, the love, the relief of finally being known.
"You're my special girl," he whispers. "You always have been."
"I know," I say, and I smile up at him. "And you're my daddy. You always will be."
He kisses me softly and sweetly, and I kiss him back with everything I have. This is where I belong. This is who I'm meant to be.
His. Daddy's only pretty girl.
Forever.
THE END