Mustang Daddy - A Single Daddy, Small Town Second Chance Romance

by Sienna Parks

  She gives me a shy smile, which completely throws me off kilter. We’ve just shared something so amazing, she has given herself to me completely, and yet she can still be shy over something so seemingly inconsequential. “Yes, Master.”

  When we’re dressed and ready to leave, I pull her into my arms, taking in the sight of the room around us. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For tonight. For giving yourself to me. For letting me have the honor of being your Master.”

  I seal our departure with a kiss, take her hand in mine, and lead her out into what feels like another world. The sights and sounds of Andromeda feel so different to me now. What we shared tonight went far beyond the reaches of this club, or my playroom. I contemplate that as we make our way to my apartment, my heart suddenly feeling heavy in my chest as I realize that Vittoria de Rossi has a power over me that no one in my life ever has. She has the power to break me.

  This… us… just became something more. A living breathing entity that I don’t have complete control over. And I never will….

  Six Weeks Later

  I’ve known this day was coming, but in my mind, I enjoyed the blissful ignorance of thinking that we would have longer together before this happened.

  The past six weeks have been the most amazing of my life. Unfortunately, Vittoria had a set back with her injury, but the silver lining was that it’s given her more time here with me, together with two weeks that she already had scheduled off, and we’ve made the most of it. Three days after our first night in the playroom, Vittoria got a call from Lily. Carter and Addi decided to elope without telling anyone, and when Addi sent a message to Lily by accident, which was meant for Carter, it became a race against time for Xander and I to track them down and get our girls there in time for the ceremony. It was a crazy few days, exciting, comical, and hot as hell. We had so much fun together, and by the time we came home, she had a new sister-in-law. I’m so glad that I could be a part of it with her.

  Watching Carter pledge himself to Addi, and seeing how happy they were, made me realize just how much I want it. Not necessarily marriage, I’m not even sure how Vittoria feels about that, but definitely the forever part. The highest honor a Dominant can bestow on his submissive, is to collar her. It’s a definitive claim, a message to everyone else that she belongs to her Dominant, and more importantly, that he belongs to her. Vittoria’s neck is far too elegant for a collar, and for me, it’s not about showing everyone that she’s mine. When the time comes, it will be about showing her how much she means to me, and my commitment to her; to us. I’ll find another way to do that, without a collar - something for me to think about in the time that we’re apart.

  Our relationship is stronger than ever, our bond as Master and sub, based on love, trust, and respect. The foundation of what we have, was built on a long history of friendship, and taking it slowly when we found each other again has been the best thing for us. At the time, I thought I might literally explode from the pent-up frustration that came from denying her. But, now I know that it was worthwhile. By the time we added sex to the mix, we were already past the point of no return. And the sex… holy fuck!

  That first time in the playroom was unlike any other. Anyone will tell you that your first time with a new sexual partner is full of excitement, anticipation, lust and desire, and it’s something I’ve always thrived on when I was training women to be submissives. Vittoria was something else entirely. Making love to her for the first time in there was… life-altering. Sex with her means something; everything. I now understand the phrase that ‘two become one.’ Corny I know, but it’s the truth. She is a part of me, and I carry her with me wherever I go. I thought that concept was a fairytale, an unrealistic expectation created by Disney to disappoint every girl in the world, when they grow up and realize it doesn’t exist. But, I was wrong. It does exist, in the form of a tiny dancer, a fierce lover; my friend and submissive. I really am a lucky son of a bitch… although, it doesn’t feel like it today.

  Vittoria has been given the all-clear to start training, which is fantastic, but it also means that she will be flying out to rejoin the tour and start working with the physio to build her strength to get back to dancing full-time. I am so pleased for her, because I’ve seen the toll that this break has taken on her, and I know how much she loves ballet. It’s her obsession, her addiction. But at the same time, I’m sad that the cocoon we’ve been living in for these past few months, this perfect life of a Master and his sub, is coming to an end. It won’t be the same from now on, and it will be months before we get to spend this length of time together again. It’s been a gift and a curse. Knowing what I’m missing, will make being on the road a lot harder.

  I’ll miss walking into the playroom at Andromeda, and seeing her kneeling, ready and waiting for me. She is the perfect submissive in that room, she never falters, not even for a moment. She gives me her absolute trust and devotion, and I in turn reward her… over and over again, until she’s limp in my arms, unable to walk out on her own two legs. I love the feel of her nestled in my arms, as I stride through the corridors, content that I’ve satisfied her in every way, before taking her home to the warmth and intimacy of my apartment. I’ll miss lying down beside her and pulling her into my arms, listening to her breathing as it evens out and slows in peaceful slumber. I’ve become so accustomed to her; I don’t know how I’ll sleep without her beside me.

  I’m supposed to start touring with the band next week, which I guess is a good thing. It’s what I’ve been working towards for the past year of my life, and their new album is fantastic. They deserve this, and they deserve my full attention at such a crucial time in their career. I’ve been consumed with my desire for Vittoria over the past few months. Ever since she walked back into my life… she’s become as necessary to me as the air I breathe. Our connection has become so much deeper, so much more profound. I’ve always loved her, but it’s only now that I’ve really been able to spend time with her alone, and explore every facet of who she is – that I realize just how in love with her I really am.

  She is everything to me, and the thought of us being on different continents for weeks or even months on end gives me a physical pain in my chest. How am I supposed to be a good Master when I’m not in the same country, when I can’t adequately assess her wants and needs? She is so excited to get back to what she loves, what her body craves, but I can also see her internal struggle. She has the same concerns as I do. She’s worried that the distance will tear us apart.

  I’ve been wracking my brain over the past few days, thinking of ways to make this easier for her. I already know that it’s going to almost kill me being away from her for so long. Not being able to touch her, to feel her come apart beneath me… will be hell on earth. She’s like a drug. The moment I got that first real taste of her in the playroom, my first real hit, I knew she would be a lifelong addiction for me.

  It was hard when we first tried to stay in touch long distance, only talking via text and calls. FaceTime is great, but it doesn’t even come close to being in the same room together. Something happens when we share the same space; the air around us becomes charged with lust, desire, love, and passion. It’s an emotional and physical reaction that sparks inside of me.

  I have a copy of her schedule over the next few months, and have been trying to find days when I could visit her or have her flown out to see me, but it’s not looking good. On paper, it looks like we’re going to be missing each other by a day or so whenever I’m within travelling distance of her. I haven’t told her yet, because I think it would be harder for her to say goodbye today if she knew that it might be months before we see each other again.

  The airport is alive with the peaks and troughs of travel. People running into each other’s arms as they’re reunited after days, weeks, or months apart; family, friends, and lovers. The other side of that coin, the one that I’m on, are the people who cling to each other, taking one last embrace, one last kiss,
remembering how it feels, and holding onto it as their bodies part, their fingers touching until the space between them is too great. The airport is a melting pot of emotion, and for me, it’s becoming synonymous with Vittoria.

  I wait as she checks her bags, drinking in every detail of the way she looks, her hair, her lips, her eyes that are fighting back tears as she walks over to me with her boarding pass in hand.

  “I don’t want to leave you.” She wraps her arms around my neck, burying her head against my chest.

  “I know. I don’t want you to leave either, but this is what you’ve been working toward, what you’ve been desperate for. You need to dance, it’s who you are, and I would never try to stop you, or hold you back.”

  She lifts her head, looking up into my eyes with so much love. “And that’s why I love you so much, Master Fitzgerald.” A mischievous grin spreads across her face, and I know she’s remembering what it felt like to scream my name in ecstasy before we left for the airport. Hogtied and spanked, and loving every minute of it as she begged her Master for more. I can still taste her on my lips as we stand here, in a sea of people, no one suspecting that her ass is a pretty shade of red right now, and her nipples puckered with little plastic clamps I placed on them in the elevator of my building on the way here. I told her not to remove them until she gets to her hotel, and only when she has me on FaceTime to watch. It’s a twisted kind of torture, for her and for me, but I wanted her to have a reminder as she travels so far away from me today; that I am her Master, and no matter where she is, or how many miles are between us, I control her pleasure, and her pain.

  “Enjoying being a tease, Miss de Rossi? Two can play at that game, remember that as you sit on the plane today, the engines vibrating through your body, sending sensual shocks to your beautiful, pert… clamped nipples. Remember it as your panties become wet with your own arousal, and I’m not there to alleviate the discomfort.” The groan that my words elicit, causes my pants to tighten and I thrust my groin against her thigh, letting her know exactly what her little noises do to me; that I’ll be dealing with my own discomfort while she’s gone. “We better get you to where you need to be. As much as I would love for you to miss your flight and come home with me to my bed, I need to do what’s best for you. Come on…” I grab her hand and navigate through the crowds, slowly making my way toward the security gate, the point of no return, the moment when I have to watch her leave… again. At least this time, I know she’s coming back to me, and that she is mine.

  When the sign comes into view, I tighten my grip, my body reacting to our imminent separation, making me feel physically sick at the thought of it. My steps slow almost to a standstill, stalling for more time. I can’t look at her, because if I do, I know what I’ll see – tears, fears, and more emotion than I can handle, so I continue to walk, repeating the words over and over in my head, ‘I am in control, I am her Master. Show no weakness, only strength.’ I must have said it to myself twenty times when we find ourselves at the entrance to security, the board beside us mocking me, ‘PASSENGERS ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT.’

  She turns in my arms, a quiet sob breaking free, causing my heart to fall into my stomach. I cup her face in my hands, wiping her tears as I lower my lips to hers. It’s not a frantic kiss, but a gentle one, filled with passion and understanding. I savor the feel of her tongue caressing mine, and the softness of her lips as they press against my own.

  When I finally pull back, I’m fighting to keep my composure, forcing myself to remain strong for her. “Don’t cry. We’ll be together again soon. I promise. And, in the meantime, I want you to take it easy, and do as the physio says, don’t push yourself too hard.” I rain tiny kisses all over her face in my attempts to calm her. “Let yourself enjoy every minute. Don’t be sad, and remember, no matter where you are. You. Are. My. Nyx. My goddess above all others. I am your Master, and I expect you to behave as such. You will obey my commands and know that you are always my priority.” I hold her gaze, entreating her to understand the gravity of what I’m saying. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master Fitzgerald.”

  “I love you, Vittoria. More than life itself. I always have and I always will.”

  She holds me as tight as her arms will let her, leaving no space between us. “I love you, too. So much it hurts.”

  “No more tears. This is a good day. You’re healed and ready to get back to what you love; what you were born to do. I’ll see you soon. Now go, before I change my mind and take you home.”

  We share one last kiss, before she turns and walks through the gate, getting further and further away from me. I stand for a moment, watching her disappear from sight, feeling almost winded by her departure, like a part of me has gone with her, and it has… my heart.

  After a few minutes, I pull myself together and start to weave my way through the crowds and out of the airport, heading home to my empty apartment to get organized for my own departure next week; Flaming Embers’ debut tour.

  Two Months Later

  We’ve been on the road now for two months, and the boys are killing it, night after night. The crowds love them, and they love the crowds. Word is spreading about how amazing they are live, especially for first-timers. It’s exactly what I was hoping for, and the media attention and interview requests are starting to roll in thick and fast. I’ve been preparing for this for months, and I’m ready to take them to the next level, but I’m not sure if all of them are quite ready for that leap. It’s going to change their lives forever. What they have now is new and exciting, but it’s theirs; this next step will take that away from them, and they’ll have to share this success with the world, opening themselves up to scrutiny and judgment, and the pressures that come with it. I know they’re going to be huge, I can feel it, and no one deserves it more than Campbell McCabe.

  The show was amazing tonight, and as the backstage aftermath begins to calm, and the groupies leave with various band members, I find a quiet spot to sit with Campbell’s guitar and play for a while. I’m nowhere near the player I used to be, but I’m good enough for my ears only. I’m tired of drunk girls trying to bed me, explaining night after night that I’m not interested because I have a girlfriend. Calling her that seems so trivial, and doesn’t begin to describe what we are, but I’m not about to start explaining it to some slutty college girls. Instead, I politely decline their advances and go in search of somewhere quiet, which I’ve managed to find in this venue.

  Since we started the tour, I’ve found myself becoming immersed in the music again, not just the managerial logistics of it all. The last time I picked up a guitar or wrote a song was years ago. I was too bitter back then to find enjoyment in it, but now that I’m in a better place in my life, I’ve started writing again. I can’t play for long periods of time, but when I do, it’s an amazing feeling, and right now I’m working on something I started writing for Vittoria.

  As I sit with the guitar in my lap and a pencil in my hand, jotting down ideas and chord progressions, singing the lyrics I have so far, I sense movement behind me.

  “Holy fuck, Logan! You kept that a secret.”

  I turn to see Campbell standing in the doorway with a shit-eating grin on his face. “No secret, just messing around.”

  “Bullshit! You’re a talented bastard and you know it. You’ve got a better voice than me.”

  “Stop kissing my ass, I already got you a record deal. Are you drunk? Stupid question, of course you are. Great show tonight, you guys killed it.”

  He strides toward me with all the rock star swagger of a seasoned pro. “Aye, we were alright. I missed a few riffs here and there; felt like a right bawbag. It was so fuckin’ hot up there on stage, I was sweatin’ like a rapist at confession.”

  “What the hell is a ‘bawbag?’” I’m still getting used to his… way with words, but he makes me laugh on a daily basis.

  “Sorry, mate. I keep forgettin’ to cut out the slang. A bawbag is yer testicles. Sure, I’m a modern-day Shake
speare!” He grabs two beers from the mini-fridge in the room and holds one out to me. “I dinnae want to drink alone. Join me?”

  “Sure, why not. It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.” I take the bottle, twist off the cap, sending a shooting pain through my hand after only an hour of playing the guitar, which really pisses me off. I take a long swig of my beer before setting the guitar down and slumping back into my seat.

  “So, what’s your story, big man? You’ve got a voice any front man would kill for, an’ you’re flexin’ yer hand wae a grimace on yer face. I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but I’m guessin’ an old injury?”

  “You’re a perceptive guy, Campbell. Yeah, I injured it over a decade ago, and it ruined my chances of doing what you do.”

  “What happened? Tell me tae mind ma ain business if I’m bein’ a nosey bastard, but you look like you could use a friend, and you might be our manager, but I consider us friends, too.”

  I don’t know if it’s his open personality, or the fact that I’m missing Vittoria so badly, but I find myself talking before it dawns on me that he’s the first person I’ve ever told this story to.

  “When I was eighteen, I had it all at my fingertips. I’d just finished school, with no intention of going to college. I had a band – guys I’d grown up with, that knew how much of an escape music was for me. I had an agent, Derek, who was in the process of finalizing the paperwork on a record deal for us, when he started dating my mom.” I take another long swig before I continue. “My mom never did have great taste in guys. My dad was a deadbeat drug dealer, who skipped out on us when I was eight years old. We were better off without him, but he left behind some angry associates who came looking for him. Instead of getting rid of them, my mom started dating a long string of losers, each one worse than the last. I thought when she shacked up with Derek, that she’d finally found a decent guy. It wasn’t ideal with him being my manager, but he assured me that it wouldn’t affect my deal.”