Protecting His Brat

by Sorcha Black

  I whimpered, feeling his semi-hard cock twitch against my butt.

  “Please, Daddy. I need to come.”

  “You don’t need to come, you want to come,” he pointed out. “You’re a spoiled little girl. You misbehaved, and I said no orgasm for you. Why should I change my mind?” His fingers were driving me wild, teasing, vibrating, tickling between my legs—never giving me exactly what I needed.

  “Because you’re a nice Daddy?” I hazarded.

  “You wish you had a nice Daddy.”

  “Because you like watching me come?” I tried again.

  “I like watching all sorts of things. I could go outside right now and watch the birds for a while, and that wouldn’t be rewarding bad behavior.”

  His hands moved off me, and for a horrifying moment I thought he was going to leave me that way. Instead, his arms hooked under the backs of my knees and pulled my legs wider apart, exposing my ass far more crudely to the mirror. He ran a finger over my anus, and I squeaked, shuddered, and tried to shift away, but his hand followed me and kept it up.

  “You keep saying you want my cock in here, so you’re going to have to get used to me touching you like this.”

  The finger on my clit was making my belly cramp with need, and the sensation on my anus wasn’t hurting—if anything, it was tickling and turning me on and making me struggle in his lap. He used some of the fluids leaking from my pussy to lubricate his finger and slid it around and around my clit, then did the same with the finger on his other hand and pressed it against my bottom hole.

  “Daddy, nooo,” I whined.

  “That’s not your safeword, little brat,” he reminded me. “Your safeword is fuchsia.”

  I nibbled at my bottom lip, too aroused to want him to stop. I just didn’t want him to think I liked it even if I didn’t exactly hate it…but it was making me feel shy.

  “See? It’s not so bad.”

  “It’s not in yet,” I replied sulkily.

  “I’m just playing. You’re going to take the tip of my finger, and that’s all.”

  I stared down at his fingers. They were thick and calloused, but at least the nails were trimmed back to nothing.

  He rubbed his finger there until I was whimpering and impatient for more. Slowly, he coaxed his fingertip into my protesting anus. I watched his expression as his gaze moved between my face and what he was doing. The process of convincing my body to take it had my nerves fraying like an overzealous violin player’s bow. I was on the sharp edge of bliss, teetering, gasping—ashamed that I liked what he was doing to me.

  “There’s a good girl. You like Daddy’s finger in your tight little hole.” His gaze was intent on mine in the mirror, his expression arrested, as though watching me as he touched me was better than porn.

  “No, no, no,” I sobbed, my mouth open at the strange sensation of being invaded that way. “Daddy, I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t want to like it, but your little pussy is so jealous and wet.” He wiggled the finger in my ass, and that was the very end of my control.

  My eyes rolled back as my body spasmed. I froze, afraid to move, but his fingers didn’t stop. I wailed, the sound thin and pathetic.

  “Fuuuck, yeah,” he murmured as I writhed in his lap, my hands on his wrists, not sure if I wanted him to stop or if I was afraid he might. “You’re the hottest fucking thing. Fuck, your poor pussy is pulsing and so empty.” He dipped a finger into the pinkness, playing in the mess he’d made as more of his cum leaked out—or maybe that cum was all from me?

  Fluttering aftershocks wracked me as he withdrew his fingers and turned me sideways in his lap again, holding me close. Lethargy crept over me, my energy completely drained and my mind a pleasant, fuzzy haze of contentment.

  His cock was hard against my hip, but I was so exhausted I couldn’t bring myself to think of trying to get him off again. Sleep sucked at me so insistently, it was like slowly fainting.

  My lids fell shut, and he held me there for a long time, murmuring to me, but I was only half aware of what he was saying—something about how beautiful I was, and how I was a good girl, and how he was sorry he’d been so mean to me. I wasn’t sorry at all. The memory of it was hot even this soon after it had happened. It had been degrading and rough, and I’d loved every minute of it, even when it had hurt.

  The man was perfect, and I was damned well going to keep him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Love was a strange and inconvenient thing.

  I watched her sleep, feeling like my heart was being torn from my chest. Although I’d brought her here to keep her safe, maybe I’d had ulterior motives I wasn’t willing to admit to myself. I’d cleaned us both up and tucked her into bed for a nap. She was curled on her side, looking so vulnerable that I felt the inevitable surge of protectiveness I always got around her.

  The way she pushed me and challenged me to dominate her made me conveniently forget about her inexperience, but I couldn’t keep letting my emotions and my dick override my common sense. It was one thing to tell myself there was no harm in letting her get me out of her system, but that wasn’t really what this was about.

  I wanted her to be mine. I wanted to keep her. I wanted to protect her from the world—from whoever wanted to hurt her, and even from her heartless mother.

  I should have been protecting her from me.

  Resisting her had become a Sisyphean task, and I’d found I wasn’t indefinitely up to the challenge. I should have left before I’d given in, but I was so weak when it came to her. If only we could stay on this island until we were sick of each other…if that ever happened. I wasn’t sure it would.

  Giving her up would kill me. Maybe literally.

  Watching her come out of her shell had been such a privilege, and I hoped like hell that when things went back to a strictly bodyguard/client relationship she wouldn’t lose all of her newfound excitement about life. No one deserved to spend their time on this earth so downtrodden and dismissed. Why wasn’t Aberdeen’s mother interested in her happiness?

  Even if she got out from under her mother’s thumb someday, there were always going to be people trying to take advantage of her good nature—sketchy men, unscrupulous contractors, shifty employees—people who discovered her true nature and used it against her.

  I didn’t give a rat’s ass about her money. Hell, I wanted nothing to do with it. I wished she could give it away, along with all of the obligations and responsibilities that came with it, and just be mine. That was probably the most selfish thing I’d ever thought of in my life, but I let myself feel it and let it go. I’d spent too long ignoring my feelings and bottling them up when I was younger, and it had never gotten me anywhere except unhappy.

  Yes, I loved her. No, I couldn’t keep her.

  It was as simple and crushing as that.

  * * *

  Aberdeen followed me like a puppy, eager to watch me doing the most menial shit. I’d thought she’d get bored of it after a few days, but she bobbed along after me, chattering and asking me questions. I drew the line at her following me onto the roof to fix a leak, but I did show her how to use a hammer. The chainsaw was off-limits too, but she helped me with some of the brushing on the overgrown island and managed not to lose any fingers.

  Soon, the place looked more like a patchwork fairy tale cottage rather than the kind of place monsters lived.

  Keeping her out of the sun was a challenge, but I nagged her about sunscreen until she rolled her eyes at me, then I spanked her and put it on her myself. The tip of her little nose got sunburned, and I berated myself for not buying her a wider-brimmed hat. She got scrapes and bug bites no matter what I did, and she teased me about being a terrible Daddy for letting her get damaged. The brat.

  It was good that she was smart and had a lot to say, because good lord could she talk. I found myself grinning even when she got distracted and went quiet, knowing more words were coming.

  How had I ever lived without her to brighten my days
?

  “We could just stay here,” she suggested as I was tucking her into bed. She’d been yawning by the campfire, and I’d coaxed her inside, gotten her nightgown—which she still insisted on wearing—and changed her into it, turning myself on even knowing I wouldn’t be laying a hand on her tonight. She’d stacked a lot of the wood I’d split. She was stronger than she looked, but she was exhausted.

  “Your mother would track us down and have me thrown in jail. Tomorrow we’ll go to the mainland where there’s a cell signal and call your mom to touch base. If things have settled down, we’ll go back. If not, we’ll pick up some groceries and stay awhile longer.”

  I sat down next to her hip, facing her, and she sighed, wiggling to get comfortable on our ridiculously lumpy mattress. “I hope the creeps have sent a million more threatening messages and broke in three more times.”

  “Aberdeen,” I gently admonished. “I hope it’s safe for you to go back. Keeping you safe is more important than this.”

  She raised her brows at me. “What’s the point in taking me away to keep me safe, just to bring me home and plop me back into my old life? Even if they’ve miraculously arrested the legion of bad guys supposedly after me, and put them in jail already, I don’t want to live in that pretty cage anymore. I like doing things, not spending all my time sitting in my room or being trotted out for functions. It’s such a ridiculous waste of my life. None of the things I usually do matter.” She looked out the window at the moonlight shimmering on the calm black water. “I want to come back here with you.”

  “Like mowing the lawn on an island in the middle of nowhere matters? The things you do in your day-to-day life—that’s what rich people do. You can set some boundaries with your mother. Get involved in things that interest you outside of the house. Pick charities you’re passionate about. After your birthday you’ll have spending money she doesn’t control, so you can buy your own clothes and your own music and things. It’ll be better.”

  “I want to tell her we’re together.”

  My heart sank even though it was trying to leap. It was a disconcerting feeling.

  “That’s not a good idea,” I said, not caring about my reputation anymore. Now I was just worried her mother was going to use me to hurt her somehow, or that she’d shame her for what had happened. All of this was my fault—I was the one who’d allowed her to seduce me. “We’re ending this when we get back. If we tell her, she’ll send me away. You know she will.”

  I’d stay even though it would hurt like hell to see her with Courtland, or whoever else she ultimately chose. I’d keep her safe better than any other man because I was doing it for love, not money.

  “We’re not ending things when we get back, Blue. I won’t allow it.”

  “It’s not up to you, Aberdeen.”

  “Well, it’s half up to me. We’ve already established that if it’s up to you, you’re going to be balls deep in my pussy, Daddy.” She jutted her chin defiantly.

  I gasped theatrically and watched in amusement as her cheeks went bright pink at her boldness.

  “Aberdeen Arabella! Such dirty talk out of that prim little mouth!”

  She touched her lips. “I have a prim mouth?” she demanded, shoving my arm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I groaned and ran my finger along those lips. She caught my fingertip in her mouth and suckled it, playing, exploring it with her tongue. My cock tapped impatiently on my zipper demanding to be let out.

  “You don’t like my mouth, Daddy?” she asked sweetly, giving me her doe eyes.

  She was enough to make a grown man cry in frustration.

  “You have a beautiful mouth,” I admitted. “Interesting how fast you turned the conversation away from that rude thing you just said.”

  “You noticed that?” She grimaced. “I mean, it’s true though, isn’t it?”

  “It is true, but you know the sex isn’t the only reason I…like you.” I’d almost said the other L-word but swerved at the last minute.

  “I know. Mother is also paying you. I wonder how mad she’ll be when she finds out she’s been paying you to thoroughly deflower me.”

  “That’s not what she’s paying me for.”

  “Hmm. So, if the sex can’t be considered one of your duties, is it a job perk, or overtime?”

  “It’s a perk for you. I should be getting hazard pay after the scratches you left on my back.”

  “Are you still whining about that?” she teased.

  “I’m not the masochist here.” What the hell—I was going to tell her. “If I liked pain, I’d fall madly in love with a woman I can’t keep. Oh wait…”

  Her pretty blue eyes flashed to mine, the small “o” of surprise on her lips so sweet I couldn’t help but lean over and kiss her. When I sat up again, her eyes were shining with happy tears. Shit. I’d needed to say it—she needed to hear it—but it didn’t change a damned thing.

  “You love me?” she asked shyly.

  “Of course I do. How much more obvious could it be?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not like I have a lot of experience with relationships. I thought maybe you were just being nice.”

  “I’m not a nice guy. I’m never nice.” I exhaled. “But Aberdeen, this doesn’t change anything. I can’t have you—not to keep.”

  “Well, you’ve been having me, and the sky hasn’t fallen in yet. The only thing that’s standing between us being together is my mother’s opinions and society’s expectations. It’s not like there’s a law saying I can’t have a relationship with my bodyguard.”

  “There’s not a law, no, but how could we stay together and have it not be weird? How would it work? I’d come home from my job once a week, meet you at my place, and screw your bratty brains out for twenty-four hours before leaving again? What about if things get more serious between us? Are you going to take me to functions with you? Are you going to buy me a fancy tuxedo and make me your pet ogre? Aren’t trophy boyfriends usually models or actors or something?”

  She shrugged. “You are a trophy boyfriend—look at yourself. As for the rest, we’ll figure that out.”

  “That’s not a very practical way to handle big life decisions.”

  “I didn’t say we had to elope tomorrow. I said there’s no reason to end things when we go home. We can take things as slow or as fast as we want to.”

  I knew that look. She had definitely been thinking about eloping. God help me, I’d never been able to read a woman the way I read her—it was like being able to see little thought bubbles above her head. The worst part was the little brat seemed to be able to do the same with me…not that I was a complicated man.

  Maybe she had me wrapped around her little finger, but there was no way she was going to brat her way into marrying me. Absolutely not.

  How I felt about her didn’t matter. Neither did how she felt about me.

  She would marry someone important someday—someone with money. She would forget her little crush on me as soon as she got some life experience under her belt, which was as it should be. She would probably remember me as her first and shake her head and laugh at her younger self, wondering how she could have had her head turned by an ugly, older man who was a glorified servant.

  The love she felt for me would be fleeting.

  I watched her drift off to sleep. Her hand went slack in mine, and I observed her every shift in expression with an amused tenderness I’d never felt for anyone else.

  I was grateful to have had the chance for some time alone with her, at least, before my life went back to what it always was—empty and lonely in a way that a twin sister and two best friends could never fill.

  * * *

  I watched her leaning against the car and dialing the phone. Her usually perfect corkscrew curls were a bit frizzy around the edges. Her eyes were hidden by a pair of oversized sunglasses I’d bought her on the trip here that made her look more like a rich, spoiled brat. I wasn’t sure where she’d scrounged up the sundress fro
m. It had been fished out of her luggage before she’d attempted to talk me into staying on the island one more day.

  Did women intuitively know about the universal male weakness for sundresses, or was it something they were taught? My balls ached because I knew what panties my little monster was wearing under that barely-there tease of pale floral cotton.

  I’d seen her naked enough times I should have been at least partially immune to the sight of her bare legs, but as she spoke to her mother, I couldn’t help but check her out.

  I was hardly the only one.

  The gas station attendant had almost fallen over himself cleaning our windshield, and now a man who had to be old enough to be her great-grandfather was sitting on the bench outside the store, his gaze narrowed on her, nodding slowly in appreciation. He had to be in his late eighties, but I kept an eye on him anyway. Just because he was an unlikely abductor didn’t mean he wasn’t being paid to watch for us.

  It was so strange…I was still being careful to keep an eye on things, but deep down it still felt like no one was looking for us. I hadn’t seen anyone even remotely suspicious since we’d left the house. It was as if the abduction had been staged to chase us away. But why? From what?

  Keeping an eye on her and the surrounding area as casually as I could, I handed the woman at the outdoor kiosk a twenty to pay for the produce Aberdeen had requested. She’d been teasing me about how she could feel scurvy setting in after all the treats she’d been eating.

  I was moving back toward her by the time she got off the phone. Her mouth was stiff. Was she trying not to cry?

  Without a word, I put the produce in the backseat and took her hand, locking the car behind us as I led her away from prying eyes into the little park I’d spotted not far away.

  “That didn’t go well?” I asked unnecessarily. I could tell by her lack of expression and her stiff shoulders that she was about to fall apart. Hopefully she wouldn’t keep it in.

  “She figures it won’t be safe to come home for another week. She added some men to the security detail, and they haven’t found anything—no other nighttime visits or strange occurrences. She wants us to wait here to make sure.”