by Lena Little
I gasp.
“I’m going to claim you so aggressively no man will ever even look at you, knowing you belong to me. I’m going to impregnate you with my seed, fill you with my juices until you’re so full it’s dripping out of you a week from Tuesday. Breed you with my child and then watch until your belly swells with my first born while my chest swells with pride. And one will never be enough. I’m going to keep claiming you, keep fucking you, all day every day until the end of time. Until we have a whole house full of kids. A family.
“Tell me you want that too.”
“I want that exactly,” I say, making it blatantly obvious with my words in addition to the fact that I’m rubbing my nub furiously with my first two fingers.
He grabs my thighs and opens my legs wide.
“You look like a seven-course meal all spread out for me and only me. Who owns this pussy?”
“You do.”
“I wanna hear you beg for it, because whatever this is between us, this imperfect perfection we share…I’ve never had anything like it before, little one. I know how special you, we are and I’m never letting you go. Your fate is sealed. Mine.”
“Yours,” I whimper, wanting him to slide his thick, throbbing cock in me so damn bad I could scream.
Lining the tip up with my opening, and putting his massive crown right at my entrance he leans forward and puts his forehead on mine. “You’re mine now, little girl. Mine all mine.”
In one thrust he enters me, filling me fully in ways I couldn’t even imagine. That scream that was on the tip of my tongue seconds ago is gone. I can’t speak. I can’t comprehend. I can only feel.
My body lurches up in bed from the pain of his cock buried all the way to my womb. It hurts like hell, and in the best way possible.
“You ok, little girl?”
“Uh huh,” I whimper.
“You sure?”
I reach my shaking hand back to his hips and slowly try and guide him out of me, but his body is just too big, too massive. Fortunately he reads me like an open book, and does what I need, backing out and letting my body get accustomed to having him inside me.
He leaves the tip of his rod just inside me before running the tip of his tongue around my areola before flicking my nipple and then engulfing my breast in his massive mouth.
He comes off me with a loud popping sound and then leans back, giving me a second to prop myself up slightly, where I can see the pink liquid coating his cock, the evidence of my virginity laid bare.
“Yeah, you see that too?” he asks. “It’s the most beautiful color I’ve ever seen, and as artists we’ve seen them all.”
We.
I like the sound of that.
And I like the sound of the grunt he makes as he re-enters me, my body still trying to adjust to him.
In and out as I fist the sheets until finally, he’s able to pick up the pace.
I try moving my hips in rhythm and not a minute later we’re fucking like we’re meant to fuck. He grabs my ass, spins me over like a spit-roast, his cock never leaving me, and starts taking me from behind.
Then from the side.
Then with my hands pressed down against the bed.
I’m a rag doll, flipping, tossing, spinning like I’m at the bottom of the shore break at the Pacific, waves crashing over me and doing with me as they wish. And that’s exactly what I wish for.
“Fuck, I’m close,” he grunts.
“Me too,” I echo.
“Tell me you want me to come inside you. Tell me you want my first born child,” he spits through clenched teeth as he drives into me.
“Yes, Daddy. I want it. Fill me with your come. Breed me. Make the two of us one. Forever. Please, Daddy, please!”
“Daddy needs to know you’re ready too. Princess’s needs are always first,” he says in one short breath, the words run together but I understand and feel his love for me, sending me over the edge.
“I’m ready, Daddy. I’m…I’m…”
Suddenly his thrusting stops and he somehow buries himself inside me even deeper than before, his hips pressed fully forward, his ass muscles clenched to get him as deep inside me as possible, to ensure his seed takes root inside me.
“Oh fuck, babygirl!” he yells. “I’m coming. I’m coming in your raw, tight little pussy.”
A wall of water rushes through me like a tsunami and I unleash my cream on his cock just as I feel jets of come flood into my body as his climax makes me see stars, every muscle in my body spasming as he continues to throw hot, white ropes of stickiness inside me, painting my womb with his gift.
His aftershocks last a full minute or so, not that I have any idea or comprehension of time in the moment, until he collapses directly on top of me.
We’re both covered in sweat, panting, trying to catch our breath with not enough oxygen in the world to help us now.
But eventually we do reach a level that’s not that close enough that we’re in danger of cardiac arrest.
He rolls off of me, his rod sliding out of me and I immediately feel the void, missing it with a need I didn’t know I possessed. I’ve always been the responsible one, the one who had to take care of my mother. And now, finally, there was someone to take care of me, and I needed that like the ocean needs water…every last drop.
And that’s exactly how much I was sucking up right now. All of him. Every ounce of this moment.
I lean over, short of strength and high on this feeling we’re sharing, and see the red blot on the sheet in the shape of a heart.
If that’s not life imitating art I don’t know what is.
But what I do know is this means everything.
I’ve finally found what I wasn’t even looking for. Someone who understands me even when I don’t quite comprehend myself. Someone to watch over me and push me to be my best in life, in all ways.
I’ve found him. The man has already changed my world for the better and will continue to do so.
My Daddy.
14
Silas
The next evening
I help Scarlett onto the boat and we take off for our sunset cruise after an early dinner in South Beach with her father.
“This is amazing,” she says, heading to the bow of the boat to take in the view before we turn around to watch the sunset over the city.
“We have to do this more often,” I say, as she does her best Leonardo DiCaprio impression, shouting, “I’m the king of the world!”
“Sweetheart, that’s enough. Get back from the edge.”
“Is that a rule, Daddy?” She turns around and turns her bottom lip up at me.
I simply point at the deck and she comes back to safety, where she belongs, by my side.
“I just wanted to have some fun.”
“And you did, and Daddy wants to have a lot of fun together for the rest of our lives, so he always wants you to be safe.”
“All our lives?”
That’s my cue.
“Yes, princess. All our lives.” I take a knee and carefully slide the small, black velvet box out of my pocket opening the top and exposing a ‘lucky seven’ carat ring, in a princess cut of course, for my princess. I’m extremely careful with the ring, one because it’s for the most important and beautiful girl in the world, and two, I don’t want it to wind up on the ocean floor, like the Heart of the Ocean did in Titanic.
“Beautiful,” I begin, taking her hand. “For all these years it was my best friend who was looking for you, and although I didn’t know it at the time I was too. The world never completely made sense to me before you arrived in it. I thought I had everything, but one second with you and I knew my life before had nothing. You keep me sane. You give me structure. And you are the person who I can’t wait to not only possessively protect and guide through our life, this life together, but also the only woman I’ve ever loved. To the outside world we’re probably crazy, but to each other we’re just crazy in love. Let’s continue this journey we’ve started, and sail off into the sun
set…for real, together. We’ve only known each other a short time, but we both know that when you know, you know. And I know you were meant to be mine and I was meant to be yours.”
I stand and emotions damn near get the best of me as her hands shoot up to her face, covering it as a single tear streams down her eyes. I slide the ring on her finger, a perfect fit, just as she’s the perfect ‘fit’ in my life.
My little one jumps into my arms and we kiss for the first time as an engaged couple.
She pulls her head back, and stares me in the eye as I do to her, seeing depths in her blues greater than the azure ocean surrounding us. “I almost thought you were going to ask me to marry you for a second.”
“That’s not my style.”
“No it’s not, and that’s why I love you. But for the record, I accept.”
“You had no choice,” I say, completely straight faced, which causes her to bust out laughing.
“I know. I don’t want to get punished. Oh wait…maybe I do,” she teases, bringing her pinky finger to the corner of her lips.
“You’re a good girl, and tonight you get anything you want.”
“Ben & Jerry’s Netflix and Chilled ice cream flavor?”
“Absolutely, although we’re not going to be Netflix and chilling, if you know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean. I might have to turn naughty just to…make sure,” she winks.
“And you know I’ll be right there to reel you in.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
I smile as she hugs me tight, then pulls away again. “I need to call dad!”
“He knows.”
“How does he know?”
“I asked him earlier today and he gave me his blessing.”
“You actually asked someone something? I’m shocked.”
“It’s a tradition.”
“You mean…a rule?”
“I guess Daddy has his own rules to follow in life too.”
“Like to always be my Daddy, and only my Daddy.”
“Always and forever. You were always the only one,” I say, bringing her hand to my face and kissing her ring. “And that’s why I love you, princess.”
“And I love you…Silas.” I give her a stern look and she giggles. “My bossy Daddy.”
“Good girl.”
Epilogue
Silas
Two months later
“And the winner of this year’s Art Basel is…”
The man slowly opens the envelope while a real live drum roll is played by a single musician.
“Scarlett Steele and Jack Sharp!”
I clap and whistle harder than I ever have in my life, completely abandoning my stoic, professional personality. It’s amazing what the right woman in your life will do to you, and I’ve got the only one for me.
And now that I do I want nothing more than to enjoy life to its fullest, and cheer on my little one through all her accomplishments.
We worked tirelessly for the last two months to get her up to speed to her dad’s level, and to also get Jack back into the swing of things. His mental struggles are starting to turn a corner and he’s seeing the world with renewed optimism, and with Scarlett in my life the sun has never shined brighter.
Although I have lots of money, she isn’t superficial in the slightest. She isn’t motivated by the wrong things. Not only that, she’s a blank, clean, white canvas for me to paint. And she knows it, loves it, and trusts in me to create a masterpiece.
As far as I’m concerned, she always was exactly that.
I stay in the backdrop and listen to her and her dad tell the story I already know, and how the crowd can’t believe what they’re hearing. Being that it’s Art Basel, there are a lot of famous and influential people in town and out of the corner of my eye I can already see a couple of the major Hollywood studios talking about a picture. If I can hear it right they’re already in a bidding war.
Little do they know everything about my wife is priceless, including the secret we share.
I’ve converted one of the rooms in the house into her little space. Now that we understand the dynamic we have completely, and that there are more people like us out there, I was able to do quite a bit of research and find out things that can help her thrive.
And thriving she is.
Oh, she’s still a brat from time to time, like spilling cereal, and milk, on Saturday mornings when we’re watching cartoons, but I’m almost sure those little acts of disobedience are intentional. Not that either of us are complaining, because little time has been known to include some pretty interesting spanking sessions, more than a time or two. Let’s just say wooden hairbrushes aren’t just for making sure my baby looks her best.
Scarlett steps off stage while some reporters surround Jack. This was his big ‘I’m back’ moment, and will get him back in the spotlight where he deserves, counted amongst today’s most elite artists…just like his daughter.
“We did it,” she says, throwing her arms around me. “Daddy,” she adds, whispering it into my ear.
“I’m so proud of you baby girl. We need to celebrate. I know you’re not twenty-one yet, but winning Art Basel certainly means you deserve a sip or two of champagne.”
“Isn’t that breaking the rules,” she asks, reaching her hand around and giving me a playful spank that no-one can see.
“You only did that because you know nobody can see and Daddy can’t punish you right now.”
“Or maybe because I’m counting on Dad to punish me later, as my present for being a good girl today.”
“It’s Daddy, not Dad.”
“Actually…” She lets the word just sit there in the air for a minute, before a huge grin spreads across her face.
“You’re kidding me?”
“Did somebody say kid? Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner,” she teases, but I can tell by the look on her face it’s not a joke. Her words are for fun, but they’re real.
“Baby! This is perfect!” I say, swooping her up and spinning her around, making sure her dress doesn’t come up because I’m still, and always will be, possessive of what’s mine. And no one is allowed to see any part of my princess, just as no one’s allowed to see her Daddy’s body. “Boy or a girl.”
“It doesn’t work that way. They can’t tell this soon.”
“Daddy’s got a lot to learn about being a daddy,” I half-jokingly admit.
“He sure does, but there’s one thing he doesn’t need any instruction on.”
“What’s that baby girl?”
“How to be the best Daddy in the world. My Daddy.”
“My angel. Forever and always.”
Extended Epilogue
Scarlett
Six years later
Sawyer, our oldest, flips on the lights after arriving home from his first day of school.
“Mom? Dad? Is anybody home?”
I look across the hall at my husband who gives me a wink just as we hear the tiny steps of our little boy across the hardwood floor we had installed in the home we moved to last year so the kids could grow up on the beach, experiencing Mother Nature’s ‘true art.’
I start counting down on my fingers as his footsteps alert us he’s getting closer. 3…2…1
Silas nods and we jump out at the same time, each tickling a few ribs of our boy as we yell, “Happy Birthday, Sawyer!”
He just about jumps out of his shoes and then we all laugh, realizing we put one over on him.
“I knew you didn’t forget!” he says.
“No way, buddy,” Silas quickly agrees. “You and Sofia and Sebastian are the most important things in mommy and daddy’s world. Your special day is our special day.”
I give my son a hug and then Silas goes right back to being himself.
“Room clean?”
“Yes, dad.”
“Good grade on your test?”
“Yes, dad.”
“Treat your classmates and teachers with respect today?”
>
“Yes, dad.”
He answers each without a trace of annoyance, Silas having taught him the value of rules and rewards from an early age. It seems I’m the only one who enjoys breaking rules and the punishments they result in.
Somewhat counterintuitively, Silas never spanks our children though, or lays a hand on them in any way other than to show his love and affection, which makes sense because his look and voice alone can be punishment enough. I know. Making our kids stand in the corner, write sentences, or extra chores? Absolutely.
Sawyer’s little brother, Sebastian, comes out of the kitchen with icing all over his face.
“Happy birthday!”
Silas and I just look at each other, before I voice the obvious. “Guess it’s time for the angel food birthday cake.”
“Angel food? You made me an angel food cake?”
“For my angel on his birthday? You betcha!”
He gives me a big hug and goes running off into the kitchen while Silas and I quickly check on a sleeping Sofia.
“Wonder if he knows you’re my little angel,” Silas says, sneaking up from behind me when I’m standing at the edge of the crib.
“Silas,” I slap his hand away. “Let’s leave the little play for later.”
I can feel him kiss the back of my neck and I carefully slide out of his grasp, put my thumb on my nose and wiggle my fingers at him while I stick out my tongue.
“Looks like you’re already there,” he winks.
Sofia suddenly starts giggling, watching me make funny faces at her daddy, and my Daddy too, but in very, very, very different ways.
Silas takes my hand and we walk into the living room, seeing that Silas has already cut himself a piece of birthday cake that’s so big it’s literally hanging over the edge of his plate as he sits on the couch as the opening credits to The Jungle Book roll.
Silas’s mouth opens, and I quickly put my hand in front of it before he can say anything.
“He’s breaking every rule in the book,” I say. “It’s his birthday. The only book that matters today is The Jungle Book. We all need to get a little crazy sometimes, right? Getting crazy from time to time is the only way to stay sane.”