by Sue Lyndon
He wasted no time in getting back into bed, settling atop Cammie with his length pressing at her moist center. He dragged his cock up and down her wet slit, delighting in her whimpers and moans.
“Papa, I don’t think it will fit.” She stilled and peered down the length of her stomach at his hardness. “It’s so big, Papa.”
“I assure you, it will fit. It may hurt for a moment, but only this first time. But know that if I could take the pain on myself, I would gladly do so.” And he meant it. Yes, he had spanked her and brought her to tears already today, but this particular pain was one he wished he could spare her. Of course, it couldn’t be helped, and he endeavored to make it as pleasant as possible. “Trust Papa, Cammie. Once my cock is buried deep in your little cunny, all the tingling and all the aching you’ve been feeling will soon get better.”
“Very well. I-I trust you, Papa,” she said, nodding and offering him a brief but reassuring smile.
Her surrender and her trust were the sweetest gifts.
He cupped her breasts, enjoying the weight of them in his hands, and leaned down to capture one nipple in his mouth. He laved at the ripe peak and reached one hand around her to squeeze her bottom. She gasped and writhed underneath him, and he soon paid the same attention to her other nipple, even going so far as to take it between his teeth and tug until she cried out and lifted her center hard against him, as if to compel him to thrust deep into her cunny.
He resisted the urge to drive into her just yet, instead wanting to caress and kiss her all over. He pressed another kiss to her mouth, this one quicker than the last, and moved down her slight form, licking the hollow between her breasts and dragging his teeth over her stomach. He ran his hands over every inch of her body, exploring her in all her perfection. He kept tasting her, too, licking and biting whatever part of her it pleased him to nibble on.
When, finally, he could stand the anticipation no more, he once again settled himself between her thighs. He met her gaze and started a slow push inside her. Holy God, she was tighter than he’d imagined. Her warmth was a vise around his cock, hugging him and drawing him to thrust deeper and deeper, until the tip of his length met resistance. He gathered her hands in one of his, pinning her down beneath him.
Then he drove the rest of the way inside her in one quick hard thrust, pausing once he was fully submerged. She pressed her eyes shut and winced, but only seconds later, she moved enticingly against him, wiggling her hips and struggling as if to free her wrists. But he didn’t let her go. He tightened his hold and withdrew from her cunny slightly, only to drive back in with another rapid stroke. And another, and another. He claimed her with abandon, unable to hold back the fire of his passion any longer.
Moments later, he released her wrists and gripped her hips, increasing the pace of his claiming. She clutched the covers until her knuckles turned white. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, and the scent of her feminine arousal hung heavily in the air. He inhaled deeply, unable to get enough of her.
This, this little girl was his forever. He could hardly fathom it.
The walls of her cunny suddenly tightened around him, and she moaned and jerked her hips up and down, riding the waves of her release. Her breasts bounced with her movements, and her expression was one of pure ecstasy. He followed her soon after, as his vision clouded and he erupted within her. He emptied himself inside her, filling her with his seed.
After he caught his breath, he carefully withdrew his length and gathered her up in his arms. She nestled her head on his chest and gave a sweet sigh, running her fingers in lazy circles over his flesh. He pulled the covers overtop her and their legs entwined together beneath the sheets, and he smoothed her tangled hair from her face and placed a soft kiss to her forehead, the need to take care of her in the aftermath of their first lovemaking overwhelming.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and not long after the wind howled and rain began pattering the roof as an evening storm swept across London. But the outside world soon faded and it seemed they were the last two people left on the earth. Two hearts beating as one. Husband and wife. Papa and little girl. And, God, did he love her. More than she could possibly ever understand.
* * *
Cammie sat across from Papa in the dining room, back straight with her hands folded in her lap, while two servants placed platters of toast, jams, fruits, boiled eggs, and baked ham on the table for breakfast. Her stomach rumbled so loudly that Papa smirked and said, “I believe a certain young lady has worked up an appetite this morning.”
The servants, bless them, exited the dining room hastily, leaving her alone with her papa. She flushed and glanced away, suddenly shy, despite all the intimacies they had shared the night prior and earlier this morning.
She licked her lips, still tasting the salty tang of Papa’s seed on her mouth. She’d never imagined he would require her to suck on his manhood, but he’d pushed her to her knees in his bedroom only an hour ago and ordered her to please him with her mouth.
Though it had been a clumsy affair at first, she had eventually gotten the gist of it, and he helped her by providing proper instruction. His words came back, making her feel faint and causing her kitty to pulse with need.
Hollow your mouth out and open your throat as much as possible.
Let Papa deep into your mouth. Good girl. Just like that.
All your holes belong to your papa. Your cunny. Your mouth. And even your rosebud. Whichever hole I want to fill, that’s the hole you will take my cock in, little girl.
“Cammie?”
She looked up from her plate, realizing she had reached for a piece of toast but had not taken a bite yet, let alone covered it with jam or butter. Had Papa been speaking to her? Oh no, she had gotten lost in her thoughts again. She hoped Papa wasn’t angry.
“Cammie, did you hear me?”
“Um, sorry, Papa. What did you say?”
“I asked if you would like to go for a walk in the gardens after breakfast? The rain appears to have cleared.”
“Of course, Papa. I would be delighted.”
She spread a liberal amount of blackberry jam on her toast and took a bite, practically moaning at the tart sweetness. Though she’d never gone hungry at Talcott House, porridge was usually served for breakfast on most mornings. Jam and toast and baked ham were her favorites, and she shoved several bites into her mouth and chewed vigorously.
“Cammie, slow down or you’re going to choke.”
She finally swallowed and looked at Papa. “I am fine.”
“I know for a fact that you have better table manners than that. Now, put your napkin on your lap and take slow, and smaller bites. If I have to tell you again, there will be consequences. The kind that involve you taking a trip over my knee, where you’ll get your tiny bare bottom smacked good and hard.”
Oh, there it was again. The sharp tingle. The incessant aching.
Why did Papa’s threats make her so breathless with what she was beginning to realize was desire? She didn’t enjoy the pain of a spanking, but when Papa got stern with her, she couldn’t help but flush and squirm in her chair.
With an internal sigh, she sat her toast down and obeyed, placing her napkin over her lap and sitting straighter, exactly how a lady ought to sit at the breakfast table with her handsome lord of a husband.
“Sorry, Papa. It’s just all so delicious.” She dabbed her lips with her napkin, then replaced it on her lap.
“That’s much better. Good girl.”
They finished breakfast a while later, with no more instances of bad table manners, and escaped out a back door for a leisurely stroll in the vast gardens of Ashton Manor. She walked arm in arm with Papa, and she was delighted when he insisted on holding her parasol over her head for her, to help shield her from the bright sun. Water droplets sparkled on some of the flowers and plants in the garden, but the paths that wound through the greenery were mostly dry, and the day was pleasantly warm.
He gave her a brief h
istory of the manor, and told her a little about his parents, both of whom had died not long after he had reached adulthood. Her heart panged for his loss, and she squeezed his hand and willed him to continue, but he kept his emotions guarded and didn’t say much more about them, other than that his mother had loved these gardens, and his father had been a man of few words. Still, she got the sense that he had loved them.
She remembered loving her mother, but always being scared of her moods and the strange men who would come to visit on occasion. She recalled sitting by her mother’s bedside when she had a fever, and her brother, Robert, telling her that everything would be all right. But it wasn’t all right. Her mama had gone to sleep and never woken up. Her next memories were of being cold and hungry on the street. And afraid. So afraid.
She gave her head a shake, trying to banish the dark memories from her thoughts. She was safe now. She had Papa. He wouldn’t let her go hungry or freeze. He’d spoiled her with a bedroom filled with clothing and toys. He’d made her feel wanted, and every time he looked at her, her heart did a little dance. She had never been so happy in her life. She felt as if she were floating in the clouds above.
Papa guided her to a sparkling fountain and they sat down along the edge. He clasped her hand and stared into her eyes, and she was so overcome by the level of warmth and affection reflected in his gaze that her throat started to burn. He gave her a smile and she melted on the spot.
“The gardens are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined, Papa. Thank you for showing them to me. And thank you for spending time with me this morning.”
“Where else would I be this morning, little one?”
She thought for a moment, worrying her lower lip. “Well, papas have to work a lot. That’s what my friend Cynny told me. She said her father—her real father, that is—worked all the time before he passed away and that she hardly ever saw him.”
He stroked a hand down her cheek and drew her closer, until she was almost seated in his lap. “I’m a lord and have people who depend on me, so yes, I will have to work. But you are the most important person in my life. You will come first, Cammie, before all others. I swear it. But,” he continued, “if you ever start to feel neglected or lonely, I want you to promise me something.”
“Promise what?”
“Promise you will come and tell me how you are feeling. I would much rather you tell me how you’re feeling, instead of you acting up and getting into mischief just to get my attention. I don’t think I need to remind you of what happens to naughty little girls in this household, do I?”
“I understand, and I-I promise, Papa.”
He kissed her cheek and she leaned into his show of affection, reveling in the soft warmth of his lips against her skin, and the slight scratch of his whiskers, as he hadn’t shaved today. She leaned back and peered at him, admiring how darkly handsome and rugged he looked.
The tingles and aching started to get worse, and she couldn’t help but squirm.
Papa gave her a knowing look.
“I think it’s time for a bath, young lady. If you’re a very good girl for Papa while he bathes you, I’ll stroke your kitty and help the aching between your thighs to feel better.”
She felt her eyes go wide. “Papa! How do you know about the aching?”
“You keep flushing and fidgeting. I bet your drawers are soaking wet right now, little girl. Come, let’s go back inside. Papa’s going to give you a thorough bath.”
Chapter Nine
A thorough bath, indeed.
Cammie trembled in the warm water, as she held position on her hands and knees with her bottom jutted up in the air so Papa could properly wash her. She was so embarrassed that he was cleaning her private parts, but she knew if she argued or resisted, he would only spank her bare, wet bottom. The last thing she wanted was another punishment, when her behind still smarted from yesterday’s spanking. She didn’t want to find out how hard Papa would spank her if she did something especially naughty, and she endeavored to try her best to follow his rules.
“A papa gives his little girl rules because he cares about her,” he’d told her right before he’d stripped off her morning gown and ordered her into the tub, which the servants had filled with the perfect temperature of hot water.
The tub was in her bedroom, and the curtains were wide open, the sun illuminating her nakedness. Papa dragged a soapy wet cloth over her kitty, then dipped it into the water and commenced giving her bottom the same careful attention. He’d already washed the rest of her, and he said this was the last, but most important, part of cleaning his little girl.
His touch was making her increasingly hot and achy though. Oh, how she longed for him to caress her kitty again, if only for a few moments. A couple of rubs to her sensitive nubbin, and she felt certain she would soar to the clouds. Touch me, she thought. Please, Papa.
He answered her unspoken wish, but he didn’t caress the part of her she’d wanted. Instead, he pressed a finger against her bum hole. She jerked forward in the tub, sloshing the water around as she attempted to evade his ministrations. That didn’t make him happy, and he gave her two hard swats, one to each cheek.
“Ouch! Ouchie! Papa, that hurts!”
“You were naughty. I told you to remain still, little girl. Now, do you remember what I told you this morning, about all your holes belonging to me?”
Oh no. No no no. Not in her bottom hole!
She swallowed hard and finally answered. “Yes, I remember, Papa. But could you please touch my cunny instead?”
Another smack. “What did I say about calling your privates your cunny? Are you a big girl or a little girl, Cammie?”
“I-I’m a little girl. I’m your little girl, and you told me not to use a grown up word like that. Sorry, Papa.”
He grabbed a towel and wiped up the water from the floor, and she gave him her best apologetic look. She hadn’t meant to make a mess. Would he spank her more? She scrambled back into position, on her hands and knees with her bottom lifted high, in hopes that her compliance would please him.
“I better not hear you using language like that again, Cammie. Not only will you end up with a sore bottom, I’ll wash your mouth out with soap as well.”
She shuddered and resolved to erase every naughty word from her mind. Not long after she’d turned eighteen, she’d gone through a phase at Talcott House during which she’d taken to using bad language, in an effort to impress her friends. Miss Wickersham, however, had not been impressed, and Cammie had had her mouth soaped out several times by her no-nonsense guardian. She made a sour face in remembrance and then nodded in agreement.
“I understand, Papa.”
“Good. Now, keep still while I tend to your bottom hole. I wish to see just how tight it is, so I know how much training you will require.”
Training? Oh dear. That sounded rather ominous. She tensed up, but that didn’t stop him from prying her cheeks apart and pressing at her snug entrance.
“Be a good girl and relax. Let Papa inside.”
She glanced over at him, and his kind tone coupled with his encouraging expression prompted her to relax her bottom and put her trust in him. She inhaled and then breathed out slowly, willing herself to calm and soften up enough to allow her papa to more easily breach her back hole.
He swirled a finger around her private entrance and in the next instant, commenced a gradual push into her tightness. Every few seconds, he paused and offered her encouragement, calling her a good girl and praising her for holding still. Finally, when she thought he couldn’t possibly push any further, he stopped.
“I’m all the way inside you now. Your little bottom hole is very tight, Cammie.”
She whimpered, unable to offer a verbal response.
“Soon I will claim you here with my cock.”
Her head jerked up, but she held position otherwise, and his digit remained buried in her snug hole. “But, Papa! You’re too big. It will never fit!”
He chuckle
d and his eyes darkened. “I assure you, with the proper training, it won’t be long before I’m pounding into your bottom with my cock.”
Her stomach flipped, but his words and the mental vision of Papa ramming his hugeness into her behind made her kitty clench up, and her breasts began to ache as if calling out for his touch. Would she like it when Papa stuck his cock in her bottom hole? Her face heated as she imagined getting onto her hands and knees on his bed and offering her most secret entrance to him.
How would he train her to accept his cock? Would he stick his fingers in her bottom during her bath time every day? She cast another glance at him and realized that beneath the fullness and slight discomfort of having her rosebud violated, there was a part of her that wanted more. Wanted him to add another finger, or thrust his digit in and out. She took a shaky breath and returned her stare to the soapy water.
Oh how she hoped Papa took her to his bedroom soon. If he didn’t make the aching go away, she would surely combust or lose control and start to think about touching herself.
To her delight, he dried her off and led her, stark naked, into his masculine room. Despite her nudity, she wasn’t cold. The heat of the nearby braziers wafted across her flesh. Papa kissed her and caressed her all over, leaving her breathless with anticipation. When he stripped his clothes off and crawled under the covers with her, the intimate contact of skin on skin warmed her further.
“You’re so beautiful, Cammie. So perfect.”
“Thank you, Papa,” she said shyly. “I think you’re perfect too.”
They spent the afternoon in his bed. He took her over and over again, with only brief pauses in between, during which he held her close and they talked of inconsequential things, everything from their favorite musical compositions to their favorite time of year. She preferred the summer months, while he enjoyed winter.