Chapter 22
Once Livvyand I are tucked up in Daddy’s arms, I tip my head up and whisper in Daddy’s ear, “True asked if there was a lock on the bathroom door. Do you think she’s being abused?”
“I don’t want to jump to conclusions until she tells us more, sweetheart,” Daddy responds. “But feeling safe is very important to her, and people who have never felt unsafe aren’t as single-mindedly focused on being safe, so I think it’s a good bet something that makes her fear for her physical safety is going on.”
“I didn’t expect her to be so young, Daddy,” I admit.
“She’s told us she’s nearly sixteen but she could be lying.”
She’s a small sixteen if that’s how old she is but I was an extremely small sixteen, so I shouldn’t question her.
“I hate that she’s so young and so alone, Daddy.”
Logan sighs. “Baby, I’m concerned for her, too but this isn’t something we need to take on right now.”
He’s right. We’ve got a lot going on. Still.
“We could just be her friends. And take her to see the Rexes this afternoon with Livvy?”
Daddy chuckles. “Yes, we can do that, baby doll. Mac and I probably need naps first, though.”
“You could nap while we watch a movie.” After he nods, I add, “She said she knows I’m a little. She asked me about it. Was I right about her being a subbie?”
“Uh-huh. I had to explain that Mac and I are Doms but we’re not her Doms. She’s having some trouble getting her head around that. She thinks she’s looking for a Dom but I think she’s just searching for a sense of safety.”
“Those things aren’t mutually exclusive, Daddy.”
He stretches the arm he’s got around my shoulders until he can reach around and tap the tip of my nose. “Cheeky monkey. I know they’re not. I think she’s conflating them. But it’s moot. She’s too young to submit to anyone, no matter how much she wants to.”
Being too young to do something legally and needing it with your whole heart are totally different things.
I shift around so I can stroke his chest. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. I don’t want to dredge up old hurts. But you had domly-feelings really young?—”
“I didn’t act on them,” Daddy says, his lips thinning down to a white line.
“You didn’t act on all parts of them,” I say, drawing a distinction I’ve thought about a lot, particularly watching Daddy interact with his sister. “Not on the sexual parts. But I think the line between you as Lizbeth’s big brother and you as a dominant is thin, Daddy. I’m not saying it’s bad. I see caretaking as a spectrum. Lizbeth’s told me you were even tougher on her with rules like doing her homework straight after school and her bedtime and her curfew when she got older than your mom and dad. She said your parents never had to punish her when she did silly things like eat too much Halloween candy or got caught texting her friends past her bedtime because you would give her the cold shoulder for days until she apologized and promised she’d never do it again. You were being a good big brother, enforcing healthy habits. But you were also topping her, Daddy.”
Logan’s jaw flexes and I know I’m getting close to his line. This is still a touchy subject for him since he feels so very guilty about the thoughts he had about his sister.
I take his free hand and squeeze his fingers between mine. “I know this is wrapped up in your feeling that dominance and submission is sexual. But for lots of people, it’s not. It wasn’t for me and Matthew and although that became problematic by the end, at the beginning it was good and healthy and helped me heal after my divorce. Please can you see it that way?”
“I’ll think about it,” he grunts.
With anyone else, I’d feel he was giving me the brush-off. But not my Daddy. He will think about it. He’ll turn it over and over and in a week or two, he’ll mention it during Knee Time or when we’re having a postcoital cuddle. Daddy’s a deep feeler. He’ll suck my words into his heart. I hope they’ll assuage some of his guilt. I also hope they’ll help him see that True’s submissive needs could be met, even at her age, without crossing any line.
“So, if she’s okay with littleness and understands about dominance and submission, could we make the trip to see the Rexes an outing for the playgroup?” I ask, moving away from the touchy subject.
“Sure. Max has already asked to meet her but he and Cynnie are doing something with her stepmother and dad today.”
Oh, goodie. Cynnie’s been estranged from her family for months after she broke away from them to be with Max. The only family member who has supported Cynnie’s independence is her stepmother. They’ve been having meals and outings frequently to help Cynnie’s stepmother get to know Max. Cynnie mentioned during our trip to the corn maze that her stepmother was trying to get Cynnie’s dad to join them for a meal. I’ll call her later to find out how it went.
“I’ll put it in the chat,” I say.
Daddy grins suddenly. “What you’re really asking is whether I think it’s okay for True to meet Sammi.”
“Pretty much, Daddy.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m actually more concerned about what Sammi might do to the museum than what he might say to True.”
“There aren’t any bunnies at the museum,” I point out.
Sammi’s been banned from zoos across the Tri-State area for his ... exuberance. We’ve had to put a “look with your eyes, not with your hands” rule in place with him for the Blunts’ therapy bunnies.
Daddy raises his eyebrows. “Bones. Big bones. Sharp, pointy bones.”
“Fossilized bones, Daddy. Even Sammi would have a hard time?—”
“No, don’t finish that thought. You’re tempting fate. I’m having visions of Sammi spinning around the museum clinging to a T-Rex vertebrae like that scene from Jurassic Park.”
I burst into giggles. “He wouldn’t.”
Daddy tips his head. “Not convinced, little girl.”
I don’t think he would. But taking Sable’s walking harness and strapping it to Sammi’s wrist for the day wouldn’t be the worst idea, either.
My faith in the power of blanket forts and Disney movies slips a little when True watches all of Brave in my tent with its twinkly lights and still doesn’t give up the goods. It worked on Bren when she and Master Mac were going through it and I honestly thought there wasn’t a tougher nut to crack in the whole world.
But True’s even more guarded than Brenna. By the time we’ve finished the movie and fielded five hundred questions—mostly from Sammi—in the Littles’ Army chat about what we’re going to do at the museum, she still hasn’t told us her real name or who her social worker is. Daddy’s upstairs napping but I can foresee this ruining our afternoon.
Nothing should ruin visiting the Rexes.
As we pack up the tent, I put a gentle hand on True’s shoulder. She startles and turns around quickly. I expect her to relax when she sees it’s me but she doesn’t.
Something finally clicks together. “Is a woman hurting you?”
Her face freezes. “Wh-wha-why would you ask me that?”
“Because of the way you interact with Daddy and Master Mac and me. You don’t have to tell me anything but please tell Daddy your name and who your social worker is so you can go back to where you stayed last night. Daddy’s a fixer. It’s what he does. But he can’t fix things if you don’t give him the tools he needs to do the job.”
“Like a plumber?” True asks.
“Exactly like a plumber,” I agree.
Daddy-the-plumber. I wonder if he’d be willing to role-play that? Daddy-the-plumber with his hard pipe ...
True glances over at the dining table, where Master Theo and Mistress Maude are sitting and looking at something on Maude’s phone. I thought Master Theo would either leave after breakfast when Mistress Dana and Austin did or take Daddy up on the offer of a nap in since Daddy evidently woke Theo up in the middle of the night to help with True. But he hasn’t. Despite a lot of yawning and three cups of coffee, Master Theo’s stayed up, keeping an eye on things.
“Do you trust him?” True asks me.
Do I? He was horrible with Brenna, questioning her like a criminal after she was attacked. And I didn’t like the way he was with Daddy even before that. But would I call him if there was trouble and he was the only one who could help?
“Yes. He’s a policeman, always. But he also understands what we feel deep inside if that makes sense.”
True’s eyes track across the kitchen to where Brenna’s putting out some scraps for Sable. “Was he Brenna’s Dom before Master Mac?”
Wow, I wish I had half this girl’s intuition.
“Daddy said he talked to you about consent, and how he and Master Mac are dominants but do not consent to being your dominant, right?”
True nods.
“This falls in the same category. It’s not fair of me to talk about any relationship Theo and Brenna might have had without their consent.”
“Oh.” She works her mouth from side to side while she digests that. She has a super-mobile face. I envy the range of her expressions. If I could move my face like that, I’d have Livvy giggling all the time. “I think I get it. I only asked because if Brenna trusted him to be her Dom, then I could trust him, too.”
“Without answering your question, you can trust him,” I say.
She smiles. “Okay.”
I could push her toward Theo but I don’t. I get the sense this girl has been pushed around enough. Instead, I finish packing up the tent, turn off the TV, and go upstairs to check on Daddy.
He’s awake when I peek into the bedroom. I steal in quietly and wait next to the bed for him to acknowledge me.
“Turn around, little girl,” he says.
I don’t question why. I do it immediately. Daddy’s given me an order.
He sits up and takes my wrists and crosses them behind my back. Taking my wrists in one hand, he pulls me back between his knees.
“Bend over.”
I do, slowly, keeping my legs and back straight the way he likes.
He pulls down my panties and rubs his thumb up and down my slit. I close my eyes and tremble with delight. I love it when Daddy’s abrupt and demanding like this. Also, orgasm-ahoy!
He dips his thumb into me and circles it around, spreading the wetness that flows at his touch. He pushes back in and brushes over my G-spot. Sparks flicker behind my eyelids.
“I see you trembling, little girl. Do you like that? Is your little pussy squeezing? Is your belly butterflying?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper. It’s not that I think anyone will overhear us. I just like the intimacy of this moment and whispering feels right.
“Do you have permission to come?”
“No, Daddy.”
“No. Not until I tell you. If it pleases me to edge you, I will edge you. If it pleases me to give you an orgasm, I will give you permission. But you do not own your pleasure. I do.”
I’d fall over if he wasn’t holding my wrists. Wolfy-Daddy destroys me in every sense, including my balance. “Yes, Daddy. I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too, little girl. Keep those legs straight.”
I lock my knees.
He slides his thumb out of my pussy and pushes it into my ass. Two long, thick fingers replace his thumb. He pumps his hand aggressively, the noise sloppy and obscene. Pleasure ripples all the way down to my toes. I shake so hard he pulls on my wrists to keep me on my feet.
“What are you thinking about, little girl?”
“You, Daddy.”
“That’s right. Your mind is on me. Always.”
“Always, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Bend your knees. You have permission to come.”
I don’t have time to thank him before he adds a third finger and pistons his hand in and out of me. I bite down on my lip so hard I taste blood to keep from wailing as my orgasm breaks, thunderous and debilitating. He more than destroys me. He annihilates my senses. I twist against his hold on my wrists, trying to maintain my position even as I writhe with release. Daddy’s grip never slips. He holds me through every gasp, every convulsion. When he wrings the last tremor out of me and slips his fingers out, I hang against his hold, my tears cooling on my cheeks, my lips forming the words “I love you” over and over.
“Ta, Daddy,” I finally manage. “Ta very much.”
“You’re welcome, little girl. When you can, stand up. Take your time. I’ve got you.”
I know he does. There’s nothing as sure in this world as the certainty that Daddy has me.
I open my eyes and blink to stop my head from spinning. I focus on the curtains, closed against the midday sun so Daddy could nap. There’s a bluish sliver of sunlight peeking through the left edge of the curtains. The winter sun in the City has a completely different quality than the summer sun. I love living here so much. I love watching the City change with the seasons. I love seeing the way Daddy’s home responds.
“I love living here with you, Daddy,” I tell him.
He runs the heel of his hand up my back. “Emmy, I’ve lived in this house most of my life but it wasn’t home until you made it our home.”
I stagger upright and turn around. “Really?”
He opens his arms and I rush in. He cuddles me tightly against his chest. “Really, baby.”
I bury my face in his warm neck and sniff his Daddy scent while I wet his T-shirt with happy tears. “Super-emotional, Daddy,” I tell him.
“Good tears, bad tears, or just surprise orgasm tears?”
“All of them. I’m feeling so much. I’m happy about everything. I’m sad for True. I’m overwhelmed by the surprise orgasm. Ta very much.”
He kisses my forehead. “You’re welcome, little wonder.”
“Also, and I’m not sure where this falls on the tear spectrum, I got a letter from Miranda this morning.” Daddy’s chest muscles go rigid under my cheek. “I left it on your desk. She wants me to bring Livvy to her hotel. I’m not going to. I’m not going to write her back, either. You don’t want me thinking about her and I’m trying hard not to?—”
“She’s not making it fucking easy, is she?”
“No, Daddy. And I still do feel sorry for her. But I won’t break your rules.”
He strokes his hands down my back. “If you were the daddy in this situation, sweetheart, how would you deal with Miranda?”
“Funny thing,” I say. “I was thinking when I read her letter that it’s a good thing I’m not a daddy because my heart is too soft. I couldn’t make the hard decisions you’re making. I’d cave. I admire you, Daddy. I’m a zillion times proud of you. I know it must be really difficult to be so strong.”
Logan blows out a long breath, weighted with pain and frustration. “The more she pisses me off, the easier it gets. Understand that she’s writing to you because she can’t get at you any other way. Do you feel unsafe?”
“No, just sad.”
He presses his warm lips to my forehead again. “You’re allowed to feel sad, Emmy. You’re allowed to feel sorry for her, pity her, wish her choices had led her to a different place. But you’re also allowed to be angry at her for harassing you.”
“I am a little.”
“I always want you to tell me what you’re feeling. Anger is a normal emotion. You get angry so rarely. I know it can be harder for women to express anger. It’s not as socially acceptable as it is for men. But you’re safe with me and if you’re angry, this is a safe place to express it.”
I rub my cheek against his collar and open up my heart to everything I’m feeling. “I am angry at her. She thinks I’m a weak link. She thinks she can turn me against you after she failed to run me off. I’m not weak. I hate that she thinks I am.”
“Good girl,” Daddy encourages me. “Let it out.”
“I hate that I let her get to me. I hate that she knows my insecurities. I hate that she saw those moments of weakness.”
I pant a little after I let that all out. I hate things about what’s between me and Miranda but in this moment, I let go of my hate of the woman herself. She doesn’t deserve that much emotion from me. She doesn’t deserve that much of my time and energy. It’s time for me to let the tangle of my feelings for Miranda fade. She only feeds off my attention like an emotional vampire. Daddy’s told me to ignore her and he’s right. All she deserves is indifference; that’s what I’m going to give her from now on.
“They’re not weaknesses anymore, though, are they?” Daddy asks.
They’re really not. Everything we’ve been through, the good and the bad, has convinced even my skeptical little heart that I can trust my Daddy. He’s not perfect. No one is. But he loves me. Really loves me. Unconditionally and without limits. I didn’t understand what unconditional love was before I met Logan. I’d only had conditional love from my mother, my brother, my ex-husband, my other Doms. When I did things they didn’t like, their love for me dimmed. Sometimes it died completely, like with Ash. They all tried to “fix” me, which really meant they were trying to get me to change the things they didn’t like about me. Daddy accepts all of me. Daddy wants me to be the best, happiest version of myself. But he’s left it up to me to discover and determine who that is. Because he loves me, and he always, always will.
“No, Daddy.”
“I’m a zillion times proud of you, my little wonder.”
“Love you, Daddy. Thank you for making me a bigger person, even though I’m very little.”
Daddy tips his head down to rub noses with me. “You’re very welcome. Ready to go see the Rexes?”
“Always!”
Daddy chuckles at my enthusiasm and lets me slide off his lap.