by Frost, E J
“All right. Look, about Emily, you know I’m not trying to be a dick, right?”
“I get it. Don’t be surprised if Daisy tells her, though.”
Rick drops his head nearly to his chest. “Fuck. I didn’t think of that. Even if I ask her not to, she’ll probably still do it. She’s pretty pissed at me.”
“She’ll get over it. You’ve been friends a long time. Do a scene with her tonight. Remind her you’re not an asshole. Lucy’s here; so’s Austin. Daisy likes Austin, right?”
“Yeah, although I think Daisy’s in a girl phase right now.”
That would explain her pawing my baby girl. “Keep it to just topping, then. Lucy, Austin, and Justine are all happy to scene without sex.”
“Manny and Jen heading out after the game finishes?” Rick asks.
He knows that Manny and Jen are very vanilla.
“Yeah. After they’re gone, I’m going to do a scene with Emily to show Max that topping doesn’t have to be about pain or impact play.”
Rick snorts. “Good luck with that. He’s got his mind made up.”
“I’ll see if I can change it. Max is a top. Both Emily and I think so. He just needs to let go of his pre-conceived notions about kink.”
I don’t bother to tell Rick that Emily and I both think Max is a daddy, because that wouldn’t mean anything to Rick. Rick’s not a daddy. If there’s a place on the dominant spectrum as far opposite a daddy as it’s possible to be, Rick’s there.
“Whatever,” Rick says. “I’m not sure why you’d take it on yourself to try to educate the fucker, but more power to you.”
“Thanks,” I say wryly. In addition to not being a daddy, Rick doesn’t much care about giving back to the kink community. I’ve never seen him do a demonstration, never heard him talk to anyone about technique. Emily’s right, he is all me-me-me. “You mind sending Emily in?”
I leave on your way out unspoken, but Rick’s not stupid.
He straightens off my desk. “Sure. Thank you, man. I mean it.”
“Always, mate.”
Rick leaves the door open as he goes, and Emily must be waiting in the hallway because she rushes in a heartbeat later. Her eyes flick from my face to my hands, checking for a signal. When I simply beckon, she comes to me. I fold her tightly to my chest and kiss her forehead.
“How are you doing?” I ask, just to check-in. She seems fine, but I never assume with my little introvert.
“Good, Daddy. Is everything okay?”
“Uh-huh. Where’s Sable?”
“Upstairs in my little room. I’ve checked on him. He’s asleep on the day bed.”
“Good.” We were both concerned about how he’d react to so many new people and so much disruption when he’s just getting settled in, but in smart animal fashion, he’s retreated and found a cozy place to sleep. Since he was up yowling half the night, he’s probably knackered. “Gimme a kiss. I need my baby doll.”
She winds her arms around my neck and stretches up on her tiptoes. I take her mouth, slow and gentle to start. Nipping at her lips as she melts against me, then melding our mouths together until we’re fused. Our bodies synchronize. Breath and heartbeats matching. There’s heat, but there’s also peace and soul-deep comfort. I kiss her until I can face anything with a smile. Then I release her.
She drops back onto her heels and blinks at me, her eyes glazed. “Better, Daddy?”
“Much, much better, little love.” I lower my head until I can rub noses with her. “Don’t make any plans for tomorrow, huh?”
“Okay.” She doesn’t ask, but I can see the question in those big eyes.
“Daddy might need a lot of attention,” I tell her.
She grins. “Too much people?”
“Getting there.”
Emily and I barely had a minute to ourselves right after my injury. For weeks, we were inundated by well-meaning but less-and-less welcome “helpers.” Once I could get around again, the helpers trailed off and we’ve been on our own for the last three weeks. Having everyone here tonight is reminding me of those early days and making me wish I could kick everyone out and just have the evening alone with my little girl.
“Austin wants to put on some music and dance in the back yard. Is that okay?”
“Tell him he’s a part-timer, but, yeah, that’s fine.”
“Not everyone’s as devoted to sports as you, Daddy.”
“True.”
“But everyone’s enjoying themselves, I think.”
“Seems like it. You want my phone for the music?”
Shaking her head, she gives me a huge grin. “Music we can dance to, Daddy.”
I swat her ass, not too hard because of the plug. “Cheeky monkey. I’ll have you know, the Eighties were the height of dance music.”
Emily gives an exaggerated yawn, patting at her mouth with her fingertips, before she scoots out of my office with a giggle.
I try Dovie Donegan one more time before rejoining the party. Voicemail, but it rings seven times before the message comes on. I don’t think she’s dodging me. Just not answering her phone.
* * *
The Yankees scrape it by one run, the Blue Crew making us work for it. Even though Manny and I are the only die-hard fans in the room, the victory boosts the atmosphere after that less-than-collegial meeting so it feels like a party again.
Manny and Jen leave pretty much as soon as the game ends. Although Manny’s comfortable with kink, Jen’s not. She’s from a very strict, Catholic family and was a virgin when she married Manny. I’ve never heard her talk about sex. She been friendly to Emily and Manny says she’s fine with Emily’s littleness, but I haven’t taken any chances. Emily and I socialize with them at our place, on our terms, and they leave before we start to play. I appreciate that Jen doesn’t try to push her religion on me, and I don’t try to push our lifestyle on her.
As I’m seeing them to the door, Manny and I agree to meet at Rick’s an hour before his party.
“When are you thinking of heading to DC?” Manny asks me.
“I’m not sure. This week’s tight already. Miranda’s flying in to take a paternity test on Tuesday. I probably can’t leave New York while she’s here, much as I’d like to.” Manny’s my friend as well as my business partner so he’s been fully briefed on that shitstorm. “Party’s Friday. You think you can manage without me, if it comes to that?”
Manny shrugs. “If I have to. Feel better if you were there. You know I don’t understand halfa what I’m seeing at Rick’s parties.”
That makes me chuckle. I clap Manny on his solid shoulder. “Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow, hermano.”
After locking up behind them, I head back through the empty great room to the kitchen. Austin’s got George Michael playing, either because he shares my belief about Eighties music, or because Emily put him up to it, the little tease. The four submissives plus Daisy are out on the freshly mown lawn, among the fairy lights that Emily’s strung everywhere, dancing barefoot, while Rick and Max stand like bookends at the open French doors, watching them.
I pick up a fresh, non-alcoholic beer, open it and take a long draw, before I join them at the doors.
“They make a pretty picture, huh?” I say quietly enough not to disturb the dancers but loud enough for both Rick and Max to hear.
Rick nods. Max, whose eyes are glued to Emily, pushes off the door frame and stands beside me.
“I like seeing her so—”
He trails off, and I understand. He’s seeing her littleness. It’s hard to describe, because open, uninhibited joy isn’t something you see every day. It’s the laughter of kids at the playground. The first winter’s snowfall. The moment after orgasm. It’s rare and incredibly beautiful.
“This is what Emily gives me all the time,” I say to him. “It’s what a little gives her daddy. Her joy.”
Max’s face tightens. “And you give her pain.”
“I give her safety. You think she could be
this free and happy if she didn’t have a zealous guardian who shields her from the world’s ugliness? That’s what a daddy gives his little.”
Max says nothing, but his eyes continue to follow my glowing, giggling baby girl.
When the song ends, Emily rushes over to me and throws her arms around my waist. She grins up at me. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey, angel. Having fun?”
She nods. “Come dance with me?”
“You got it.” I hand my beer to Max and let my ebullient little girl drag me out into the twinkling twilight.
Chapter Seven
Emily
Daddy’s house can sleep nine and every bed is full, including the daybed in my little room, where Sable’s curled like a living stuffie among my teddy bears. Max and Sable are the only ones sleeping alone, not counting teddies. The others went to bed in strange combinations: Austin and Lucy in one bed, Justine, Rick, and Daisy in another. Daddy shrugged when I looked a question at him as we carried pillows and blankets around to the different beds after everyone finished their scenes. I guess he doesn’t understand their sleeping arrangements, either.
In our bed, there’s just Daddy and me, snuggled under the covers with the air conditioner going since he likes to sleep cool. It feels like it should be really late, given all we’ve done tonight, but it’s not even eleven. I expected, when we came to bed so early, that Daddy would want sex, or at least a blow job, since I’d had two orgasms during our violet wand scene, and he had none. But he smiled and kissed my forehead and said he’d wake me in the night if he gets horny. That tells me our scene was really good for him, too, if he’s satisfied without needing release.
As we cuddle under the covers, my head on Daddy’s shoulder while he reads to me from Captive of Gor, I wonder if I’ve ever been this happy. It’s a quiet happy. Not a loud happy like on my wedding day, although Maman managed to ruin that. Not a floaty, dizzy happy like the day I held my first book baby in my hands. This is a deep, peaceful happy.
I roll up onto my elbow and look into Logan’s face. He blinks at me, eyes dark and restful. “The descriptions of her ankles boring you, baby girl?”
I shake my head. “I’m happy.”
He smiles. “I’m happy, too.”
“I’m really happy.”
“Ah.” He nods sagely and puts the paperback down on the bed, open to save the page. I cured him of his habit of dog-earing books during our first week home. I mean, there’s being a Wolfy-Daddy and then there’s being a monster. “Really, really happy?”
“Insanely happy. Stupid happy.”
Daddy holds out his arms and I throw myself onto his chest. With a chuckle, he closes his arms around me and hugs me tight. “No take-backs, little girl. Once you hit stupid happy, there’s no going back. It’s a rule.”
I nuzzle his warm, daddy-scented neck. “I don’t think I saw that in our contract.”
“I’ll add it. And you know what happens to little girls who break rules?”
“They get punished,” I say, grinning into his skin.
“That’s right. A million smacky-bottoms for breaking that particular rule.”
I sigh happily. “Okay, Daddy.”
He turns onto his side and pushes his thigh between mine so I’m enveloped in his big body. So snuggly. “I’m right there with you, little girl. You know that I came tonight? Without you even touching me. I was so into our scene that I came without any other stimulus. I’ve never done that outside a wet dream. Stupid-happy, little girl.”
He kisses me, and kisses me, and somewhere in all the kisses, wrapped in my Daddy’s arms, I fall asleep.
* * *
I wake up still wrapped in my Daddy’s arms, still stupid happy, and right on the edge of an orgasm. Logan’s powering over me, driving his cock into me again and again, hitting all the right spots. He cups his hand under my neck as I open my eyes, lifting my head and pressing our foreheads together. I wrap my arms around his neck, lift my legs around his waist, and mumble a plea for permission to come before I let the pounding of his body inside and over mine take me over the edge. He grunts as I howl my release. Without even waiting for me to finish shuddering, he turns me over, pulls my hips up, slams into me from behind, and rides me to his own hot climax. He crushes me into the mattress as he finishes, sweaty and sated.
His warm lips press against my temple, smearing the wetness there. “Don’t move,” he groans.
I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.
He stretches over me, his hips tucking in tight against my bottom, cock still nestled inside me even though he’s going soft. It’s sticky and slightly icky and I love it anyway, because I know how much this connection means to him.
“Daddy’s gift,” I whisper.
He rubs a kiss over my temple again. “That’s right, baby girl. Feel it?”
I nod dreamily.
He sweeps my hair up and over the pillow and sinks his hands into it, not tugging, just holding me down. I’m not feeling an ounce of tension, but if I were, it would drain out of me to have him controlling me. I love when he pins me and lets me have his full weight, even though it’s kind of hard to breathe. I don’t care; oxygen’s overrated anyway.
“Who do you belong to, Emmy?” he murmurs.
“You, Daddy.”
“That’s right. Every inch.” He rubs his sweaty chest over my back like he’s trying to imprint all those heavy muscles on me. “Max wants you, little girl. I don’t think that’s any surprise to you.”
Max was watching me pretty closely during the party and our scene afterwards. But I don’t think he really wants me. He just wants a little.
“Max will make a really good daddy to a little who doesn’t need pain the way I do.” Max is a good man, and already has a wonderfully protective daddy instinct, but it’ll be years before he has Logan’s experience as a Dom, and I’m not sure he’ll ever want to give his subbie real pain. “He’s not a sadist.”
“You’re getting off more and more often without pain,” Logan observes.
I am but that’s not because I’ve changed. It’s because of who’s getting me off. “Daddy’s gift.”
“Mmm. Daddy’s magic cock?”
Daddy’s magic hip action. Logan’s cock is wonderful, no question, but it’s that amazing hip action, where he jackhammers my G spot or cervix or, God help me, my ass, that makes me come like a nuclear detonation. “Uh-huh.”
“All right, let’s be clear. Max is a friend, but you belong to me. No more kissing. Hugs are fine.”
Did Max kiss me? I honestly don’t remember. Oh, wait, yes. He kissed me goodnight after I made up the guest bed for him. He didn’t stick his tongue in my mouth the way Daisy does to annoy Daddy, but it was definitely more of a I’d-like-to-be-going-to-bed-with-you kiss than an uncle-y goodnight kiss.
“Okay, Daddy.” I try to turn my head to look over my shoulder, but he’s got me pinned down too tightly. I wish I could see his expression. “Please don’t ever be jealous.”
He nuzzles my cheek. “I’ll try not to project my past shit on you, sweetheart, and you know I trust you. But no more kissing.”
I hide my grin in my shoulder. I shouldn’t be happy that Daddy’s jealous. But his possessiveness sends a little thrill through me.
“No more kissing,” I agree. “I don’t really want Max’s and Daisy’s germs anyway.”
Logan chuckles, the deep vibration running through me. “Good girl. It’s just past seven. Do you want to go back to sleep for an hour?”
“I think I better get up and make breakfast for everyone.”
“No, I said I didn’t invite people over so you’d have to cook for them. I meant it. This is New York City. There’s every kind of breakfast anyone could want in a five-block radius. They can feed themselves.”
He’s right about that. “Then I’ll get up and make you breakfast.”
“Mmm.” He gives me more cheek and neck nuzzles, which make me melt into the mattress. “I could do with
a big breakfast, but I think you’ll do better tonight with a bit more sleep. How about we plan to take a nap this afternoon before dinner?”
“Sexy nap or sleepy nap?” I ask, because even though I totally love the way he woke me, I’d like more fucking when I’m actually awake.
Daddy grinds against me and I wish he wasn’t about to get up. This position is turning me on and even though he’s not hard, I can feel him in me and that’s making me achy and needy again, too.
“We can start with a sexy nap and finish with a sleepy nap. I can feel you squeezing, little girl. Do you like that idea or is Daddy mashing his cock in you getting you worked up?”
“Both.”
“Uh-huh. How’s this little sphincter?”
He reaches down between us and runs his fingers up and down my crack, which makes me aware that my sphincter is very sore, actually.
“Sore, Daddy.”
“Sore red or sore yellow?”
Sore red is tempting, because it would get me out of whatever my evil Dom is now planning to do to my ass, but it wouldn’t be the truth. “Sore yellow,” I admit.
“Take Stanley wet and you can have one more orgasm today. Take Stanley dry for me and you can have as many orgasms as you want without permission, but I’ll make sure you have at least four.”
Damn, there’s a devil-Dom bargain if I ever heard one. “Dry, Daddy.”
“Good girl. You please me so much, little love. Stay still.”
He lifts off me and holds me down with a hand between my shoulders while he wipes us both clean with baby wipes. He takes a fresh wipe to my ass, pushing it in a little, which I love because he’s making sure I’m not messy before he puts the plug in but I hate the invasion, and omigod is my butt sore.
The bed shifts as he rises to dispose of the wipes and retrieve the plug. I haven’t tried to take any of the plugs without lube before and as the bed dips with his return, a cold shiver runs through me. Will I tear without lube? Am I being stupid in trying to please my Dom?