Chapter 7 #2
He pulls back and thrusts in deep. The angle is different like this, hitting spots that make stars burst behind my eyelids.
"Oh my God—"
"That's it. Let me hear you. No one can hear us in here."
His hands grip my hips as he sets a rhythm that's deep and claiming.
The sound of the shower water and skin slapping and our breathing fills the space.
"This what you wanted?" His voice is rough. "When you invited me in here? Wanted Daddy to fuck you against the wall?"
"Yes. God, yes."
"Such a naughty girl. But you're my naughty girl, aren't you?"
"Yes, Daddy. Yours."
One hand slides around to find my clit, and the dual sensation is too much.
"I'm going to—I can't—"
"Yes, you can. Give me another one. Show Daddy how good he makes you feel."
His fingers work my clit while he pounds into me from behind, and I come with a cry that echoes off the tile.
"That's it. Fuck, I can feel you. So perfect." His rhythm falters. "I'm going to come. Where do you want it?"
"Inside. Please. I want to feel it."
"You sure?"
"Yes. I'm on birth control. I'm clean. Please, Daddy."
"Fuck." Three more deep thrusts and he buries himself completely, groaning my name as he comes.
I feel the warmth of him inside me, and something primal purrs with satisfaction.
Mine.
We stay like that for a moment, both breathing hard, the water washing over us.
Finally, Tyler pulls out carefully and turns me to face him.
"You okay? I wasn't too rough?"
"You were perfect."
"Good." He reaches for the soap again. "Now let me actually clean us up before the hot water runs out."
This time, his touch is purely practical. Washing away soap and sweat and the evidence of what we just did.
When we're both clean, he turns off the water and wraps me in a fluffy towel.
"That was..." I can't finish the sentence.
"Yeah." He pulls me close. "Not how I expected this afternoon to go, but I'm not complaining."
"Me either."
He towels us both off and quickly dresses. I stand there, wrapped in a towel and finally say, "I forgot to bring clothes.”
"Right. Of course." He clears his throat. "I'll grab you something."
He returns with sweatpants and a t-shirt. Both are way too big for me, but soft and smelling like him.
"Thanks, Daddy."
His jaw clenches. "You're welcome, baby girl. Get dressed. Dinner should be just about done. I put it in the oven before you called me in.”
I change quickly, rolling the waistband of the sweatpants so they don't fall down. The t-shirt hangs to my thighs. I quickly knot it just above the sweatpants.
When I emerge, Tyler's plating chicken and vegetables.
"Feel better?" he asks without looking at me.
"Much better. Thank you for letting me use your shower."
"Anytime." He finally turns, and his expression softens when he sees me swimming in his clothes. "You look good in my things."
"I look like I'm playing dress-up."
"You look like mine."
The possessiveness in his voice makes my breath catch.
We eat at his small dining table, and the conversation flows easily. He asks about my day, about the shop, about whether I've thought more about the pricing discussion.
"I did," I admit. "And you're right. I need to raise my prices. I'm just scared."
"What are you scared of?"
"Losing customers. Not being good enough. Failing."
"Those are all valid fears. But let me ask you something, what's scarier? Raising prices and maybe losing a few customers, or running yourself into the ground because you're not making enough money to sustain the business?"
Put like that, the answer is obvious.
"The second one."
"Exactly. So, we're going to make a plan. Tonight. Together." He clears our plates. "Now, let's talk about your pricing structure."
We spend the next hour going over my costs, profit margins, and what competitors charge. Tyler pulls up spreadsheets on his laptop, helping me calculate what I should actually be charging.
"You've been operating at basically no profit," he says, frowning at the numbers. "Chloe, how have you been paying yourself?"
"I... haven't been. Not really. I take what's left after expenses."
"That's not sustainable. You need to pay yourself a salary. A real one."
"But what if there's not enough—"
"Then we adjust your prices until there is." His voice is firm. "You're not running a charity. You're running a business. Act like it."
The words should sting, but they don't. Because he's right.
"Okay. What do you suggest?"
We work through the numbers, and by the time we're done, I have a new pricing structure that's higher than my current one but still competitive with other local shops.
"It feels like so much," I say, staring at the numbers.
"It feels like what you're worth. There's a difference." He closes the laptop. "I'll be there when you implement it. I'll remind you that you deserve this every time you doubt yourself."
"Thank you, Daddy."
"You're welcome, baby girl." He glances at the clock. "It's getting late. You should probably head home."
"What if I don't want to go home?"
"I need to be very clear about something. This relationship” he motions between us, “it isn’t casual for me. You're not just someone I'm sleeping with. You're mine. My girl. My Little. And I take that seriously."
"I want to be yours. Fully yours."
"Then you are. From this moment on. Mine to care for. Mine to protect. Mine to love." His hand cups my face. "And I'm yours. Your Daddy. Your partner. Your person. Do you understand what that means?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Say it. Tell me what it means."
"It means we're together. Really together. It means you'll take care of me and I'll trust you to do it. It means I'm not alone anymore."
"Exactly. And it means that when I set rules, you follow them. When I correct you, you accept it. When I tell you you're loved, you believe it." His thumb brushes across my lower lip. "Can you do that?"
"Yes, Daddy. I can do that."
"Good girl." He stands, pulling me with him. "Come on. Let's get you to bed."
"Our bed?"
His smile is slow and warm. "Our bed."
I climb into his bed and he heads into the bathroom. He joins me a few minutes later, pulling me against his chest.
"Comfortable?" he asks.
"Very."
"Good." His hand strokes my hair. "Sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow's a big day."
"Why?"
"Because you're implementing your new prices. And I'm going to be there to support you."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to. I told you—I'm not going anywhere. That includes being there for the scary stuff."
I burrow closer to him. "I love you."
"I love you too, baby girl. So damn much."