He continued eating his dinner, as though he hadn’t just taken everything she knew and shaken it upside down. He was watching her with close attention, but without trying to make her nervous. Lena felt his foot pressing lightly against her ankle, letting her know that he was there. Because he was a Daddy.
She knew he’d asked her a question, but her mind couldn’t settle enough to answer. Was this what she wanted? She’d sure found it hot enough when he used all of that Daddy magic on her before.
And how would it be different if she was supposed to be a little? She couldn’t see herself running around in pigtails. There was something there, though. Something just out of touch. Something that she had to acknowledge that she wanted a lot more of.
Or, God, maybe that wasn’t even what he was asking about anyway. She couldn’t even remember the question. Sorry, got distracted, she signed with false confidence. What did you ask?
An indulgent smile formed on his lips. He probably knew exactly what was going on in her head. He could read her entirely too easily. How does a Daddy take care of his sweet girl?
OK, yeah. So this wasn’t just an idle question. Lena felt her heart pounding like it would break free of her ribs. Could she be his sweet girl? Would he be her Daddy if she wasn’t his sweet girl? How was she supposed to negotiate these things?
For now, she just tried to respond normally. He, um, gives her things. There, that was pretty safe. And he’s in charge. Also generic enough. Nothing different from many other D/s relationships really.
Dustin seemed to be waiting for something more. He trapped her feet between his own, giving her a little extra measure of safety.
She hid a little behind her hair. Trying to make herself smaller, less exposed. It wasn’t like she was actually talking about herself, anyway. He takes care of her. She’d said that earlier. But it felt completely different now that she knew what he was thinking.
She watched Dustin closely. His breath looked heavy too. Like this was really what he wanted.
And he makes her obey. She looked downward as soon as she said it, only watching him in her peripheral vision. That was it, really. The core of it. Dustin could make her obey, not just while he was taking care of her, but because he was taking care of her.
Good girl, he signed. She felt all melty and liquid inside, warmed by his praise and bursting with possibility.
She shifted on her chair, wondering what was coming next.
He shifted back a little, untangling their feet except for his toes resting lightly on top of hers. Eat your dinner. He took another intentional bite of his own.
She speared a piece of broccoli on her fork. Pressed it to her lips. Chewed. Swallowed. She had no idea what it tasted like, because all she could see was his pleased smile.
They ate without talking, Dustin clearly giving her time to order her thoughts.
So… she wanted a Daddy. At least some of the time or in some way. Maybe not with bottles and sippy cups, but something.
How the fuck had she not known this about herself before? She’d seen tons of Daddies at the clubs. Scened with them. Dispensed basic advice and listened to people’s fears and hopes.
Had she just ignored it because she didn’t feel an initial urge toward it? Was there something different about Dustin? Maybe the fact that he wasn’t willing to settle for just a few nights together and a relationship that ended when they’d both come?
She was finding that she really liked being pursued. And snuggled. And sent texts all week. And made to do what Dustin told her even when she acted like she didn’t want to.
But, fuck, that was a lot to take in.
Dustin finished his last bites and then caught her again. Is any of this something that you’d like to try?
I’m not a baby. She’d meant to say something a bit more sophisticated, but that was what came out. It was probably the only thing that she had figured out right now.
And then Dustin blew all of that scattered confusion and realignment to a whole other level. I didn’t think you were a baby or that I’m looking for one. But I was thinking that a Middle, maybe a bratty teenager, could be fun for our next lesson. Maybe something that we could try out?
He trapped her feet again, keeping her anchored and secure.
Was that what she was doing when she kept trying to push his limits? God, she probably acted exactly like her eighth graders sometimes. They thought they were so grown up, so experienced. But then the littlest thing might tip them back into childhood and they were trading Pokémon cards and making friendship bracelets.
They tested boundaries and put on a show, but inside they were just trying to get attention and figure themselves out. They acted like they were too old for parents, too cool for school, but they craved guidance when it came with the right touch of care and respect.
It was distressingly easy to imagine herself that way.
Dustin pulled the fork out of her limp fingers and held her hand across the table. He always felt so warm and stable. It was just something that I thought we could try. No pressure. I think it fits with who I am, and I thought you might find it relaxing.
Relaxing? She’d been thinking kinky.
His eyes twinkled. I got some graphic novels that I thought you might like. And some lip gloss. But only if you’re interested.
Shit. He’d really prepared for this and thought about what she would like. This wasn’t casual at all. The thing was, now that she was here, in this moment with Dustin, it didn’t feel casual to her, either.
She felt like some suffocating layer was sloughing off her body. It was like starting a Lena day, but somehow even more intense.
She wanted her presents, too.
What graphic novels?
The new Ms. Marvel. And The Prince and the Dressmaker.
Damn. She’d read articles about both of those. Ms. Marvel had been reinvented as an observant Muslim teenager and the second one was about a gender fluid prince. Dustin had totally nailed it. She could definitely spend the whole evening wrapped up in reading, an indulgence she rarely allowed herself.
I’m interested, she agreed, putting on a show of nonchalance. Now where were her books?
Interested in the comic books or interested in letting me be your Daddy for the evening?
She knew what she wanted, or at least what she wanted to test out. But did she have to say it? Can I have the comic books if you’re not my Daddy? she stalled.
Maybe for your birthday. Adults are more patient, I think. He was totally on to her.
Fine. She rolled her eyes. It was kind of liberating being difficult like this.
He gave her a look.
The situation was slipping away from her quickly. What magic words had he said to tip this over from a lesson where she still maintained at least some level of control into… this? It was almost terrifying in its simplicity.
She’d imagined starting a scene with a clear beginning and end, but it occurred to her that she was already in it.
He smirked. Fine, who?
He could make her say it, but he couldn’t make her be all sappy and sweet. Fine, Daddy, she huffed. She still felt a little silly, and embarrassingly turned on, but less silly when she was making a show of fighting it. Maybe because then it felt less like she was choosing it and more like she was just following his lead.
She hadn’t acted like this even when she really was a teen and she felt a little giddy letting herself talk back to him.
No, it was more than that. It was the knowledge that she could act out and throw herself around because he would be there to catch her and contain her. Because he even appreciated it. Maybe even because he wanted her to be happy.
She felt a little like she was split in half, simultaneously a defiant teen and an adult watching from the sidelines. But the adult thought it was pretty hot, too. And was getting steadily edged out.
That’s my good girl. You know you can still use your safewords, right?
Red, yellow, green. She didn’t me
ss around when she said it. Safewords were serious.
And if you don’t like something, we can try something else or just stop.
Yeah. She gave a little flounce. Books?
Finish your dinner.
Dammit.
With that incentive, though, she finished her dinner in record time. It really was relaxing just focusing on doing what she was told and earning her books. It might have been scary doing this with anyone else, but with Dustin, she felt safe.
And she was finally starting to feel bolder. She decided to stop second-guessing herself, to just give in to it. It couldn’t hurt to try it, right? And she was going to do it, she was going to do it right.
All done, she flipped her hands over dismissively.
Rinse your plate and put it in the dishwasher.
The command annoyed her even as she tingled with warmth in her core. Because Daddy was being annoying, but she knew better than to say it. She just did a kind of half-assed job on scraping her plate, which was a strangely liberating defiance even if he didn’t know about it. She still had to be good to get her presents.
Go get my bag and bring it to me.
She was kind of tempted to look inside, but she handed it to him responsibly.
He unzipped it and set a slim, brown paper bag on the table and then laid a black Sephora bag on top.
She grabbed for the top bag. Sephora was the good stuff.
He quickly slammed his hand on top of hers, halting her before she could pull away. What do you say?
It was kind of hard to stay bratty when he’d bought her such awesome presents and she felt such joy bubbling up inside. Thank you, Daddy! She’d thought it would be harder to say those words, but they flowed naturally.
One part of her observed this, how deep she was getting into this and how quickly. But the rest of her just wanted to let it happen. Worry about the consequences later. Or better yet, let Dustin, no, Daddy, worry about them.
Dustin tilted up his cheek and pressed a finger to it in silent command. A kiss?
She wrapped her arms around him exuberantly, feeling very lucky. Because he was so strong and grown up and in control and she got to kiss him.
She pressed one quick little butterfly wing of a kiss to his cheek before dancing off with her presents.
He waved broadly to get her attention. Stay in the living room or the kitchen where I can keep an eye on you.
I need a mirror!
Bring the mirror in here.
Lena shuffled her feet down the hallway, but she didn’t really mind getting the mirror. It was nice to be close to Daddy.
When she settled down at the table and opened the lipstick, it was pinker and shinier than the natural shades that she usually wore. It still suited her complexion, but it reminded her of bubble gum and glitter.
She wiped off the old color and applied the new one. She rubbed her lips together. It definitely made her look younger and cuter.
She decided to put her hair up in a ponytail. Not the usual one she wore at the nape of her neck, but piled on top of her head.
In the edge of the mirror, she could see Daddy leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen and watching her. He probably didn’t know that she could see, so she was basically like a spy.
She tilted the mirror to see his face. He looked adoring and happy. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever seen him so relaxed as he stood lounging there.
She got an idea and added another coat of lip gloss.
Then she turned and swooped up to him, feeling daring and flirty. She left a pink kiss mark right on his cheek and ran away before he could react.
She grabbed the brown bag with her new books from the table and raced to the couch. Only after a few minutes of intensely studying the covers did she look up at him.
He was putting something in the fridge, but once he looked up, he smiled at her indulgently. She looked quickly down at her books. Daddy was intense!
She couldn’t choose between the two books and wanted to savor them, so she first read the backs and studied the covers. There were author’s notes in each one, so she read those, too. She loved knowing about who wrote the books she read.
In between all that, she kept looking up to check what Daddy was doing. He wiped down the table and threw away the trash. He started the dishwasher. He even wiped down the kitchen counter from the crumbs she’d probably left there earlier when she’d made toast.
But he was totally watching her, too. It was a heady feeling.
He came over to the couch, lifted her legs up, and slipped in to sit beneath them. It made her feel cozy and special.
Can’t decide what to read?
I was reading about the authors and illustrators first. And I want to make the books last.
He gave her an indulgent smile. We can get more when you finish these. Why don’t you get started? You have an hour of reading time.
She made a face. An hour?
He nodded solemnly. She noticed that he still had a pink smudge on his cheek, and it made her feel warm inside.
She chose Ms. Marvel and started reading, slowly losing herself in the story of another teen girl trying to figure out her identity. Lena, of course, wasn’t trying to figure out her family, religion, and superpowers all at the same time, but she felt like Kamala Khan was someone she could identify with. She was fierce even when she was feeling insecure, and she wanted to do the right thing even when she wasn’t sure what it was.
It was nice, relaxing even. She could just give up everything and focus on someone else’s problems, while Daddy read on his tablet and mindlessly rubbed her feet.
And when she looked up, he was sitting there, just being close to her. But there was something exciting about that. Like he was a little larger than life. Almost mythic. A hero. Daddy.
She kept reading, getting sucked into the plot, but knowing that he was there, too. It was a type of security she felt deep in her core.
She was just starting a new issue when Daddy tapped her leg. How’s the book?
She bubbled over and started telling him all about it, only to realize that he’d read it, too! She shared her favorite parts and asked all sorts of questions, but he wouldn’t tell her what was coming next.
Because he was mean. And boring.
He wouldn’t even let her keep reading until the end of the issue. She thought about trying to keep reading anyway, but she was worried that he might actually take her books away.
Time for bed, he told her.
She debated arguing, but then got a better idea. If I get ready for bed, what do I get?
Plenty of sleep. His mouth was serious, but his eyes were laughing.
She rolled her eyes. In that case, I’ll stay out here. You can do better than that.
He pressed a kiss to her knee. You’ve been very good all evening. What does my sweet girl want?
She bounced up to sitting, not quite sure how to phrase what she wanted. Special Daddy time?
He chuckled. I thought this was special Daddy time. I’ve been enjoying myself. Are you enjoying yourself?
She couldn’t even put into words how relaxing and special this evening had already been. Who knew that this would be her thing? But was she going to tell Daddy that when he was teasing her?
Maybe. If it got her what she wanted.
She launched herself into his lap and covered his face with noisy, pink kisses. I’m having a wonderful time!
He was laughing, his belly expanding rhythmically against hers.
But do you know what would make it better? She lifted her chin, trying to look cute.
What?
Naughty Daddy time.
Well, I think I could be persuaded. He was just toying with her now. She could feel him getting hard beneath her, and she squirmed against him. The way that his breath caught told her everything that she needed to know.
He grabbed her arms, though, stilling her squirming and bouncing. He looked serious and she made herself pay attention.
&n
bsp; We need to check in first. Is your list of limits still the same? It’s OK if it’s different. Or you can just tell me what you want.
She scrunched up her nose. She was usually the one reminding people of stuff like this, but she’d been too distracted to think of it this time.
She wasn’t sure if her limits had changed, necessarily, but her interests for tonight had. Maybe nothing too rough right now? Kinky’s fine, but, like, gentle kink?
He kissed her forehead. That’s fine. He still wasn’t really comfortable with impact play or some of the rougher things anyway. And… do you want to stay a middle? We can do sexual things separately if you want to.
That was a difficult question, actually. She’d been getting carried away, and this had all been moving a lot faster than she expected it to.
As she weighed out the two choices, the adult observer at the back of her head got louder. She found herself analyzing the evening, dissecting what they’d done, wondering about who she was and what this meant…
Daddy pressed a kiss to her lips, disrupting her thoughts that swirled and crashed like rapids in a stream.
If the question is that difficult, I think we need to take a break. I’m going to tell you what to do, alright?
She nodded eagerly. This was so different than the scenes she was usually in, that started when someone was tying her up and ended when the cuffs came off. Even slipping out of this space felt uncomfortable and odd. Kind of jerky and discombobulating.
You’re going to rest your head on my shoulder. You’re not going to think about anything. I want you to feel my breath move in my chest. He moved one of her hands over his heart. You can stay there for as long as you want. And when you’re ready, you’re going to sit up and then we’ll have a conversation. Understand?
Yes, Daddy. Thank you.
Ahhhh… This was what she’d needed. She nuzzled into his shoulder, feeling their chests pressed together. They were both still hard, and her dress was rucked up around her thighs leaving little to the imagination.
But all she had to concentrate on was his breathing. With each breath, he lifted her body, just a little bit, and then lowered it again. It was almost like being rocked to sleep. It was safe. Comforting.
Love Lessons (Love Language Book 2) Page 18