Daddy

by Handel, Shanna

  She’s almost made me forget the doom that hangs heavy in my belly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t think I’ll be needing your services.”

  She stops in her tracks, holding a perfume bottle up to her nose she was just about to sniff. Her gaze focuses on me like laser beams. “Rockland said you were getting married today. And so you shall.”

  “I’m afraid he’s mistaken.”

  “Arranged marriages happen every day. Statistically they’re more successful.” Rushing over to me, she sits by my side like an old friend. She smiles brightly but worry lines her eyes. “Charlotte, you have to go forward with this. And from what Emily’s shared with me about your feelings for the groom—why not?”

  Does everyone in the Village know of my childish infatuation? Of Rockland’s order of marriage?

  I realize I’m playing this wrong. I can’t raise any suspicions in order to carry out my plan. I can only think of Eli and sparing him a life yoked to me. I smile and say, “Forgive me. Just pre-wedding jitters.”

  Charlie smiles, relieved, and begins the process of primping and preening me. She curls my hair, pinning it to my head with beaded barrettes. Blushes my cheeks, shadows my lids, lines and colors my lips. When she’s satisfied with her handiwork, she goes to the closet, taking down a long, cream-colored garment bag that she’s hung inside.

  She unzips it, pulling the gown from its protective casing. Ivory silk decorated with beading and lace styled with a high neckline and long sleeves. A throwback to a more modest time, a Victorian-era gown.

  Exactly what I would have chosen for myself. I breathe out the word, “Emily.”

  Charlie nods. “Yes. She picked it out herself late last night when she first got word. Daughtry’s had your size, you were lucky.”

  “It’s—it’s gorgeous.”

  She approaches me as one might a wild pony. “May I help you into it?”

  I nod appreciatively. It’s a lovely gown to die in.

  She unties the white nightgown I was given to sleep in. It falls to the floor and I step out of it, completely naked and bare to this stranger. Charlie slides the creamy silk down over my body; it cascades like water. The sleeves are just about a half-inch too short but otherwise, it’s a perfect fit.

  Charlie holds my shoulders, guiding me to the floor-length mirror that stands in the corner of the room.

  As she buttons up the back, I stare at my reflection. It’s like looking at a girl in a storybook. A princess on her wedding day. A gasp escapes my throat. “I can’t believe it’s really me.”

  “The barrettes are vintage, something old. The dress is new, and I have a little something for you.” She slips next to me, handing me a sapphire-colored bracelet. “It’s made of blue diamonds. They’re incredibly rare. It’ll be something borrowed and something blue. Emily sent it. She wore this on her own wedding day.”

  “It’s beautiful.” I slide the bracelet onto my wrist. I don’t have the heart to tell her I won’t be alive to return it to her.

  Charlie’s eyes sparkle with excitement. She says, “One more gift.”

  “From who?”

  “Your groom.” From behind her back, she retrieves a red Bachman’s Jewelers box.

  My hands shake as I open it. Resting on the velvet is a pair of dangling teardrop-shaped diamond earrings. They are stunning and they must have cost a fortune. More touching though, they look just like something I would have picked out myself, had I the opportunity to shop at Bachman’s. Delicately removing them from the box, I breathe, “Oh, Eli.”

  They hang heavy on my lobes, making me feel like a princess.

  When she’s satisfied with how I look, Charlie takes me downstairs. Armed guards lead us to a brick building a few blocks from where I stayed. Not exactly the typical wedding party.

  One of the guards holds the doors for me; a dark curl hangs over his eye as he gives me a friendly smile and a wink. Too overwhelmed with fear, I can’t return the grin.

  We enter the building and Charlie leads me to a massive elevator. The doors open and we step inside. A black leather bench runs the length of the back of the elevator. My knees are so weak, I’m tempted to collapse onto the bench, but I force myself to stand tall, riding the elevator to the top floor. When the doors open, fresh morning air greets me. We’re at the rooftop bar. I’ve heard Eli speak of this place, at one of the Bachman galas.

  Overlooking the city, the view steals my breath and for one moment, I feel the joy of a bride. Then I remember what I must do, and sobriety overwhelms me.

  There’s an altar that’s been covered in fresh flowers. Pale peach roses arranged with pink and white snapdragons.

  Rockland and his wife, Tess—I know her by her red hair—stand beside a man I don’t recognize. Eli steps out from behind them.

  His dark hair is slicked back. His strong frame is encased in a perfectly cut black tuxedo. The crisp white shirt enhances his tanned skin. When our eyes meet, I don’t see the dread I’ve anticipated in his gaze.

  Instead, as he’s taking me in, a flash of approval dances over his features. Then he does something that shocks me to my core.

  He smiles.

  My heart flutters like bird’s wings. I can scarcely breathe. I whisper to myself, “He’s... happy?”

  Charlie pats my arm. “Of course he is. Look at you. Any man would be thrilled to have such a stunning bride, and even better, one he’s known almost his whole life. It’s fate.”

  Fate.

  A fickle mistress.

  When I was speaking to Pearl on the train, I was so convinced that I was equipped to give fate a push along.

  Look at where it’s gotten me. Where it’s gotten him.

  I take the bouquet Charlie hands me, the scent of roses reaching me. I walk slowly down the aisle to meet my ultimate fate.

  Avoiding Rockland’s and Tess’s gazes, I stare directly at Eli. All the feelings I have for him rush to the surface, making my knees weak, but they only serve to further steel my resolve.

  I’ll never let him give up his future for mine. I love him too much to let him.

  The man officiating the wedding greets us. He asks, “Who gives the woman to be married?”

  Rockland steps forward. “Tess and I.”

  My father’s image bubbles to the surface and I use every ounce of strength and courage I have to push it aside.

  If I think of my father on this day, I’ll break.

  There are more words, but they fall on deaf ears. I can only focus on what I must do, nothing else.

  The officiant looks at me, smiling as if he doesn’t know my life is on the line. He asks me, “Do you take this man to be your husband?”

  Finally hearing the question I’ve been waiting for, my heart stops. I stare directly into Eli’s eyes. I speak clearly, loudly, so there can be no doubt of my answer. “No, I do not.”

  There’s a quiet, collective gasp. Eli’s dark brows rise over his angry eyes. “Charlotte—”

  I’m shocked by the strength of resolve that envelops me. I stand firm. “I said no. I’ll not force you to vow away your entire life because of a mistake I’ve made. I’d rather die.”

  Giving me a dark look, he grabs the bouquet from my hand, tossing it to Charlie. Over his shoulder, he calls to the others, “You’ll have to excuse us for a second.”

  He’s tugging me away from the altar, down the aisle, toward the elevator. His hand is so tight around mine that it hurts.

  My heart thrums in my chest as I try to keep pace behind him. I cry out, “What are you doing?”

  “Spanking some sense into you.” He punches the elevator button. The doors open and he drags me inside, hitting the door close button. “You’re going to be over my knee until you’re ready to march back out there and take our vows.”

  The huge steel doors creak to a close and we’re alone. “You... can’t!”

  “I can and I will,” he shouts.

  I’ve never heard him yell before.

  The fury in
his gaze, the way he’s towering over me; I’m suddenly terrified of him. Fear pricks my skin in little shocks. My throat closes but I clear it, managing to say, “You can’t spank someone into marrying you.”

  He drops down onto the bench, tugging me right over his lap. “These are extenuating circumstances. And yes, I can.”

  My arms and legs are flailing. One of my sandals slides from my kicking foot. “Give this up! I am not going to marry you!”

  His hand comes down in a hard spank. I’m instantly taken back to that night at the ball, when he threw me over his hard thigh and spanked me. I’d forgotten how much it stings! His hand comes down again. And again.

  I wriggle my hips in an attempt to escape. He circles my waist, pinning me to him. I flail my arms in an attempt to beat him off. He easily circles both my wrists into one of his, pinning those as well.

  I kick my legs, losing my other sandal. He slips one strong leg out from under me, twisting it around and capturing my fighting legs.

  I’m trapped.

  With his one free hand, he gives my bottom a hearty smack. Then another. And another. Soon, he’s got a rhythm going, spanking every inch of my bottom. The stinging spreads like wildfire and I’m howling in pain. But I’ll never give in. The stakes are too high.

  “Ready to get married yet?” he asks, spanking me harder.

  My ass is throbbing. “Never!”

  “It’s a shame. You sure make a beautiful bride.” He stops spanking, but only to tug at the slippery material of my dress, yanking it up and over my hips. I wear no panties; the only ones I had made a terrible line beneath the silk. Silly, I know, to worry about a visible panty line when you’re being marched to your death, but it happened. A low, guttural moan rises in his throat. “No panties.”

  I feel his cock harden against my belly. To my dismay, moisture pools between my bare thighs. The scent of my arousal reaches me. Which means...

  “I’ll bet your pussy is all wet from your spanking, isn’t it? Would it really be so bad, being married to me? I know exactly how to care for little girls like you.” His fingertip slides between my legs, up the slick slit of my pussy.

  It feels so good. Tingles dance over my entire body and I let out a soft sigh. “Girls like me?”

  “Yes. Ones that need a loving man to spoil them when they’re good,” his finger plunges inside of me, “and punish them when they’re bad.”

  I cry out, the pleasure from his finger fucking me making my mind go blank, my body go limp. He adds a second finger to the first, and together they slide inside of me. My muscles tighten around them. One more plunge and I think I’ll come.

  “Girls that need a daddy.” His words cause a clench and a gush of my pussy. His fingers fuck me, in and out, harder and faster and I’m gasping and bucking against his lap, stealing every ounce of pleasure he’s offering me. “I’ll be your husband and your daddy, little girl. What do you say to that?”

  “Oh, Eli.” The impending climax takes over, becoming the only sensation in my world. Just as I’m about to burst, his handiwork stops, freezing all the pleasure, stopping my climax right at the brink of orgasm. “No! Please, don’t stop.”

  “Then don’t call me by my name.”

  How is it that I know what he wants? Can I truly utter it out loud, once more? I force myself to whisper the taboo words, “Please don’t stop... Daddy.”

  My words make his cock even harder beneath me. He releases a moan of satisfaction. “Good girl.”

  “Daddy, please, finish what you’ve started.” He slides inside of me and continues finger-fucking my pussy. The pleasure builds once more, even more intense than before, my belly rubbing against his erection as I ride out the final waves of my orgasm. My back arches and I cry out in delight at the powerful release.

  I collapse, limp over his lap, attempting to catch my breath but before I can, he pulls me up from his lap. Stands me before him, my dress falling back down into place.

  I’m panting, my legs are jelly, barely able to hold my weight. His gaze locks on mine, a wicked glance dancing in his irises. He undoes his belt, unzips his pants, and frees his cock from his trousers, all the while never taking his eyes off me. It springs to attention, tall and proud and ready, the head glistening.

  His hands clutch at the fabric of my dress, rucking it up back around my hips. Holding his gaze, I wrap my arms around his neck, spread my legs, and climb on top of his lap.

  Is this happening? It feels like a dream that’s an interlude in a nightmare—I’m finally getting to do what I’ve wanted to do with him for years, what I’ve dreamt about so many lonely nights in my bed.

  Despite the sordid circumstances, I take the opportunity, my core aching, my pussy crying for him. My knees go to either side of his thighs. I line up my slick heat with the throbbing head of his cock and slowly, I sit.

  He thrusts his hips up, entering me and I exhale, the sensation unworldly, transcending all space and time. Lower I go, further he enters, until I’m sitting down on his thighs, his cock fully inside of me, a fleeting thought of gratitude for my IUD the only sane thought in my mind.

  His hands slip beneath my dress, clutching at my hips. As his fingertips dig into my flesh, I moan as he raises his hips, shoving his cock just that much further within me.

  My fingernails scratch at the back of his neck as my head lolls back. “Eli, oh, Eli,” I call as his pelvis thrusts up at me.

  His cock stops moving, staying still buried deep within me. Teasing me, torturing me with his lack of friction. His dark eyes flash in disapproval. “Don’t you mean—Daddy?”

  His words cause another pool of moisture between my legs, further slickening my sheath. “Yes, Daddy.”

  I ride him, my knees bearing down into the bench on which he’s just spanked me. Made me call him Daddy. I ride and as I ride, I know there will never be another man like this. Not one who knows my innermost longings and can fulfill them so completely.

  I roll my hips back and forth, as if riding a bucking horse at a breakneck pace. With every movement, I feel the full power of his cock meeting me, my pussy clenching around his member and milking it for all I can get.

  I want him. And I want him to want me in return. If I am to be wed, let it be to him, Eli, the man I’ve compared all other men to.

  Let it be for the man who gives up his life so that I may keep mine.

  A real life daddy dom.

  He tilts his head up, finding my lips and abusing them with his rough kisses. There is such a hunger behind them that catches me off guard—I’d never anticipated him wanting me this strongly.

  But his kisses don’t lie.

  He wants this every bit as much as I do. His mouth moves to my neck, freeing my lips to utter the words I whisper from my soul, “Daddy, my daddy.”

  His hands grasp my breasts, kneading and pinching over the thin material of my gown. My heart swells beyond measure when he matches my whispered words with his own. “Baby girl, my sweet, sweet baby girl.”

  I won’t last much longer—I feel the beginnings of another orgasm building within me. I ride as if I’m riding for my life, bucking and humping his cock, the friction inside of me forcing me into a place of immense pleasure. A place I know I’d do much more than marry to buy the rights to return to again.

  His hands slip beneath the cheeks of my ass, squeezing as we rock together to climax. He gasps, “How did I not know sooner?”

  I cry, “What did you not know?”

  “That your body was meant for me.”

  And his words are my undoing. The climax takes hold, my pussy clenching down on his cock. “I’m coming!”

  “Let it go, baby girl. Take every second of it,” he murmurs through his kisses.

  I climax, clutching him, inhaling him as he consumes me.

  I sit, straddled over his lap, panting as he thrusts one last time, his hot seed bursting within me.

  His hands cradle my face. His kisses move to my ear as he whispers, “Now, are you ready to
become my wife?”

  I collapse upon him, resting my head on his chest. “Yes.”

  His lips tickle my earlobe. “And be my baby girl?”

  Longing rises within me as heat rises in my face. I whisper, “Yes.”

  He takes my hand in his. Kisses my forehead softly.

  He’s so kind to me, so gentle. I don’t deserve him. Tears brim in my eyes and I whisper the words, “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this...”

  He tucks a strand of loose hair behind my ear with a contemplative look on his face. I fear his rejection until he speaks. “I know this isn’t exactly a conventional love, but there’s been something between us for a long time now. I tried to deny it, but these circumstances made me realize whatever it is... it’s something worth betting both our futures on it. Who knows what could grow from it?”

  My fingers tremble in his. I stare down at our joined hands. “Thank you. For saving my life.”

  He gives my hand a tug and teasingly asks, “By spanking your ass to change your mind?”

  I want to laugh but my gratitude is heavy on my heart. I stumble over my words. “By... wanting to marry me.”

  He gives me one last kiss. He speaks softly and I treasure every one of his words. “It’s not what either of us predicted for our futures, but it seems we’ve been brought together by forces greater than ourselves. It must be fate.”

  We stand, cleaning ourselves and arranging our clothes as best we can. Hand in hand we walk back to the altar where the others politely pretend there’s been no interruption. Could they hear us? I glance over my shoulder at the elevator doors. If they couldn’t, the wrinkles in our clothing give us away.

  They begin the ceremony again. This time when the officiant asks if I take Eli to be my husband, I say, “I do.”

  I look to Tess. There’s a hint of a smirk playing on her lips as she gives me a wink, as if she’s set this up.

  Rockland smiles as well, waiting with a cool confidence that alludes to his certainty we’ll move forward with the marriage.

  Even though I didn’t really have a choice, I realize I want this. I want this marriage with every thread of my being.