by Maggie Ryan
She looked up at the man who was now her everything and when he brushed his thumbs across her cheeks to wipe away the tears, he said, “Don’t be scared. I’ve got you.”
“I know. I’ll never be scared again. I love you with all my heart, please… please make me yours now…”
“Now and forever,” he said.
She stood as he she felt him pulling the weight of her hair, moving it over her shoulders, and lifting a few strands to run them through his fingers.
“I love your hair,” he said, bending to press his lips to an ebony curl before turning her away from him. She trembled as his fingers worked to unfasten the buttons of her dress.
“I love your neck,” he said, bending to brush his lips across its nape.
“I love your shoulders.” He kissed each one as he began to pull the dress open. “I love your back,” he continued, his soft kisses as he bent to kiss her spine causing her nipples to tighten until she felt they would burst.
He straightened and turned her to face him. The look in his eyes had her bloomers becoming even damper.
“Arms up,” he said softly and she lifted them, her nipples tightening even more as he began to pull the dress over her head.
He kissed every part he uncovered, her elbows, her collarbone, stating that he loved each one. He knelt to remove her shoes and stockings, lifting each foot for its kiss and when his lips pressed against the scars on her legs and he stated he loved her legs, she felt tears well and finally released her last doubt.
By the time she was standing in nothing but her bloomers, her entire body flushed with arousal, with need, her nipples aching from the kisses they’d received but wanting oh so much more, she attempted to help by reaching for the tie on her last barrier.
“No, little one, I like to unwrap my gifts all by myself.” His words had her groaning, her legs trembling. “Now, don’t move.”
Lilly watched with a mixture of shyness and fascination as he began to undress. She’d known he was strong but the muscles that flexed across his shoulders and down his arms as he removed his shirt told of his fitness. The broad span of his chest and the flat plane of his abdomen had her wanting to run her fingers across his skin, her lips following. When he was down to his underclothes, she could see the bulge of his manhood and began to tremble.
He knelt before her again and reached for the ribbon, and when her bloomers slid down her legs, he bent forward and kissed the black curls of her sex. “And, my bride, I am going to love your little quim until you are screaming in pleasure.” Stripping off his last barrier, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
*
He pulled back the covers and then placed her on the bed. Her black hair fanned out like India ink on the white linens, her entire body flushed a soft pink. Joining her, he took his time, again kissing down every inch of her body. She began to keen when he pulled her nipple into his mouth and began to suckle. Her every moan, every sigh, every movement was perfect, as it told of her passion.
When he’d worshipped each of her breasts until she was writhing, he moved down to kiss her tummy, his tongue darting into her belly button, grinning when she squealed at the sensation. He continued south and when he placed his hands on her thighs and gently guided them apart, she moaned.
“Ready to scream?” he asked as he bent to kiss her inner thigh, his finger running softly along her sex to find her sopping wet.
“Yes… oh, please!”
He lowered his mouth and as his tongue broadened to swipe the length of her quim, her hands pushed against his shoulders and her eyes widened in shock.
“Papa!”
“Shh, little one. As I told you, I love every single inch of you.” By the time he suckled her throbbing, swollen clit into his mouth, she was lifting her hips, one hand fisted in the bed linens, the other twisted in his hair. “Come for me, Lilly. Come now,” he ordered, slipping a finger into her quim, readying her for what was to come. It took only a few gentle thrusts and a deep suckle on her little pearl before she obeyed, her body bucking as he continued to feast on her nectar. He gave her a few moments before he lifted himself over her and pressed his lips to hers. She didn’t balk at the taste of herself but eagerly returned the kiss, her arms going around his neck. He pulled back and whispered, “I promise, it will only hurt a bit this time. Just hold on to me, trust me.” She nodded and when he pressed forward, she opened her legs further to accommodate him.
Phillip went slowly, listening to her every soft moan and watching her eyes as he entered her inch by inch, allowing her body to stretch around his girth. When she began to lift her hips, as if seeking more, he bent to kiss her again and then thrust hard, swallowing the cry of her pain as he broke her maidenhead—made her his, and the two of them one.
“I love you, Lilly,” he said, releasing her lips only when she relaxed beneath him. “You are mine and I am yours.”
“Forever,” she said.
Epilogue
A month later, Phillip walked into the kitchen, where his cook, Mrs. Poole, was packing the picnic basket.
“Have you seen our little one?”
Sharon smiled as she closed the lid. “If Miss Lilly is not with you, or in the library, there is only one other place she will be.”
“Oh, right, the garden. Thanks, Mrs. Poole. I suppose I’m just a little nervous.” This woman had been with his family before he was born and he considered her more of a friend than an employee. “I just want her to be happy.”
“If that little one were any happier, she’d outshine the sun.” Sharon slapped at his arm when he kissed her cheek before grabbing the basket. “Save those kisses for Miss Lilly. Now, shoo, I’ve got a thousand things to do before dinner.”
Phillip didn’t have to walk far to find his little one. He exited the door off the kitchen and found his love in the large kitchen garden. Setting the basket down outside the gate, he entered and quietly walked up behind her where she was talking to a tomato plant.
“If you don’t grow big and strong, then Mrs. Yardley won’t be happy,” she said as she packed mulch around the plant. He listened to her give a soft giggle and then watched in puzzlement as she softly slapped at a few stems.
“Hmmm, and I thought only papas spank,” he said, loving her squeal of surprise as she fell back onto her behind.
“Papa, you scared me!”
He crouched down and bent forward to give her a kiss. “I didn’t mean to frighten you but do you think spanking that plant is going to make it behave?”
She giggled. “You are supposed to tap the stems holding the blossoms, Papa. It helps the fertilization process.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Mrs. Yardley told me so.”
“Ah, then it must be true,” he said, helping her to her feet. “Remember you told me it was time to plant your cuttings?”
“Yes. I thought one on each side of the gate would be nice.”
He knew she planned on planting the third in her garden at Eleanor’s school. She continued to tend the garden a few times a week, and he’d been introduced to her friends, Jimmy and Matilda and their new son the day she’d fixed an arrangement and they’d delivered it to their store. While she cooed over little Michael, he’d thanked Jimmy for taking such good care of his Lilly. He’d been impressed when the man nodded and warned him that taking care of her was now his job and he’d better make sure to do a damn good job.
“That might work,” he agreed as Lilly drew him to the gate and pointed to a spot. “How about we discuss it while we have our tea party?”
“Oh, that will be fun.”
He took her hand and picked up the basket. When he didn’t stop at the flagstone patio behind their house, she looked puzzled. “Where are we going?”
“I thought we might find a new place.”
He watched her look around. His property included pastures to both sides where his horses roamed but at the back of the house, there was an expanse of grass and then a thick wood.
He began to walk across the lawn.
“Are we going into the woods? I thought you said it was dangerous.”
He stopped and looked down at her. “Tell me, what do you hear?”
She tilted her head up and then closed her eyes, that adorable crinkle across her nose. After a few seconds, she gave her answer. “Birds?”
He chuckled. “Yes, and what else?”
“Nothing… oh! The noise has stopped! Have your men finished working on whatever they were building?”
“Yes and while I didn’t want you wandering in the woods while they were working, it is now safe.” He paused and the said, “Unless you don’t want to explore?”
“Oh, no, I want to, Papa. I can’t wait to see what plants are growing among the trees.”
They continued walking and he listened to her chatter about the uses of various plants she’d read about in one of the many gardening books he’d given her. While she loved working among the vegetables, and though she never complained, he knew she had been disappointed not to discover massive flower gardens on his land, but he’d had no use of ornamental plants. He had the only flower he’d ever need in his Lilly. They walked for a few more minutes and when he began to slow, she looked up at him.
“Welcome to Lilly’s garden,” he said softly and lifted his hand. She followed his gesture and gasped.
He’d hired a crew not only to make a clearing in the woods but to construct a gazebo. He’d copied the one at Eleanor’s but had enlarged it. Bright white paint gleamed under a roof of green. Another crew had planted beds and hung baskets of flowers. A paved walk would lead from the house to her garden so that she could visit without getting her slippers dirty.
Looking down, a bit puzzled when she hadn’t moved a muscle or said a word, he realized that tears were streaming down her cheeks. God, he was a fool! Of course she wouldn’t want a memory of that gazebo.
“I’m sorry, Lilly. I-I didn’t think… please don’t cry.”
“Oh, Papa, I love you so much. I can never give you… you give me so much.”
He dropped the basket and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t you know that you have given me more than I will ever need? Lilly, you have given me your heart and your joy. Every single day when I wake up beside you and every single night when you scream in pleasure, you are giving me the gift of yourself. I wanted to give you a garden of your own, to work among the plants and flowers that you love. We can change whatever…”
“No! We won’t change a single thing,” she said, pulling on his hand. “It is just absolutely perfect just the way it is! Come on! I want to see it all!”
He felt his heart begin to beat again with the joy in her eyes. They walked around the entire gazebo and he watched as she bent to touch each plant and knew that with that soft touch, they would grow. When they reached the front again, she paused.
“What goes here?” she asked, pointing at the two empty beds.
“Ah, wait a minute,” he said, taking the steps two at a time and returning with two pots. “I thought this would be the perfect spot for your roses.” He handed her the pots which held the plants she’d nurtured. He’d been amazed watching them grow, any doubts at her skills disappearing as leaf after leaf appeared on what he’d incorrectly called sticks. She bent and placed each pot in the middle of its own circle and when she knelt down, unconcerned that her action would soil the knees of yet another pair of white stockings, he chuckled. “I guess you are planting before we are eating?”
She looked a bit surprised at the reminder they’d come to have a tea party. “I forgot… I suppose they can wait.”
“I want my little one relaxed as we eat, and since I plan on teaching her how her sounds of pleasure can join the songs of birds, I think you should plant them now.” He paused and then grinned. “Then again, it would pleasure me very much to see my naked little gardener among her garden.”
“Papa!” she said, her face flushing. He walked up the steps again and returned with her basket of tools. While she planted her roses, he retrieved the picnic hamper and set out their tea. There was a small creek that she’d discover on the other side of the clearing but even that distance would have been too far for her to walk back and forth with pails of water. He’d had his men install a pump that would not only water her garden but would be handy to wash a little one’s dirty hands.
Drying her hands with his handkerchief, he asked, “Did you give the roses a kiss, little Lil?”
She smiled and nodded, and he swooped her off her feet and carried her up the steps and set her down on the blanket before the bench, where he’d already set Miss Bushy and the doll she had named ‘Florence Sarah’, after her mother and the girl who’d given it to her. They ate and he flipped the acorns he’d set on the squirrel’s plate over the railing so she could have a biscuit. When they were done repacking the basket, he led her to a bench on the other side of the gazebo and patted the surface.
“Oh,” she said, reaching down to trace the letters he’d had inscribed. “It says ‘Papa’s Lilly’.”
“You are mine,” he said, reaching for the large bow at the back of her dress. She blushed as he removed the pinafore and set it aside only to turn her around to unbutton her dress. Pulling it over her head, he saw that her nipples were already puckered. He smiled and removed her two petticoats and then her shoes and stockings. He thought she was beautiful dressed in the formal gowns he’d had made for her to wear to the opera, or in the latest fashions she wore when accompanying him to social events outside those hosted by their special circle of friends. But he loved the little dresses, petticoats and pinafores she wore every day, and she’d confessed she loved wearing the clothing just as much.
He knew she was probably worried about being seen naked and outside, and yet when he patted the ruffled seat of her bloomers, she smiled, and when he reached for the satin tie at her waist and allowed the fabric to slide down her legs and she stepped out, he could smell her arousal and easily see the glistening it was painting on her denuded quim. He pulled a pillow from beneath the bench and set it in the middle.
“Turn and put your hands on the bench,” he ordered gently and was treated to the view of her pale little heart-shaped bottom when she obeyed. “Present,” he said again and watched as she spread her legs apart and went up onto her toes.
“Good girl. Cheek on the cushion and push your bottom up nice and high for Papa.” He’d given her legs a massage after she’d stretched that morning as he did every day. Still he asked, “You will tell me if your legs become strained.”
“Yes, sir, Papa,” she said as she obeyed.
He lifted his hand and began. Within six strokes, she was moaning, and the cupping of her quim found her flooded. “Be still,” he said, smiling as she groaned, knowing she’d be unable to as he ran a finger over her pearl. “Was that a wiggle?” he asked and chuckled when she gave him a strained, ‘yes, sir’. “Ah, and what happens to naughty girls who can’t be still for their papa?”
“They get spanked,” she said, her tone almost breathless.
“That’s right, Papa spanks his Lilly’s bottom.” He gave her another round of swats, rubbing her reddening globes after each one and then again running his fingers over her sex. His cock was as hard as the nails used to build her this gazebo and yet he’d not release it until he’d brought her to her culmination. She moaned and he watched her eyes flutter closed, her bottom lip caught by her teeth as she quivered but managed not to move—but he did. Kneeling behind her, he said, “What a good girl. Open those hot little cheeks for me.”
He loved her instant obedience and once she’d spread the globes of her arse, he moved the fingers he’d coated in her abundant cream to her bottom-hole. He’d learned that his little one would probably never lose her embarrassment at his orders that demanded her complete submission for the impending play his order communicated and that she found them easier to obey when he’d reddened her bottom—not for true punishment but for preparation.
The slight pain from her spanking tended to allow her to enjoy the pleasure he was teaching her she could have when he played with her bottom.
Pressing just the tip of one finger into her tight ring of muscle, her deep moan hardened him even further. “Push back, take Papa’s fingers into your little rosebud.” His free hand continued its play in her quim as he seated first one and then another finger deeply into her back passage, scissoring them widely to stretch her tightly puckered orifice. “That’s my beautiful girl. Hands down.” Once she was braced against the bench again, he said, “I want you to come for me, Lilly. I want you to come very, very hard.” He replaced the fingers at her quim with his mouth and enjoyed his favorite dessert.
“Papa!” she screamed as she convulsed. His fingers continued to gently thrust into her bottom and his tongue continued to lap at her cream until she was whimpering with the over stimulation. Only then did he slide his fingers free and stood, picking her up and carrying her to the swing. A thick cushion of a dark green printed with lilies covered the seat as he lowered himself and arranged her to straddle his lap. Opening his trousers, he released his cock. Lifting her, he guided his cockhead to her entrance and slowly lowered her down its length.
“Ready for another lesson, my love?”
“Oh, yes,” she said.
“Hands behind you,” he ordered and once she’d done so, he bent forward to kiss each of her pebbled nipples and then began to lift her up and down his shaft. The swing swayed them back and forth as he taught her how to ride his cock. God, it was absolute heaven on earth to be joined with the woman he loved, to know that each soft moan was indicative of her intense pleasure. Lifting her until she was free, he watched her eyes grow wide when he repositioned his cock.