I pictured you down on your knees, calling me “daddy.”
It suits him. It’s easy to picture women begging him for pleasure with their long-lashed doe eyes and pouty lips, calling him “daddy.” He exudes masculinity in nothing more than jeans and a t-shirt. And I could totally picture myself down on my knees in front of him.
Duke pulls into his driveway and cuts the engine before turning to face me. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Libby. I hope I didn’t frighten you too much.”
I smile shyly. “Thank you again for helping me with those movers. I really appreciate it.”
I release the handle and the door opens. His eyes are still locked on me as I hop out of the truck. Eventually, he gets out and leans against the hood. “Just want to make sure you get in safe,” he calls out when he notices me looking back.
When I step foot on my porch, I turn to see him still watching me. I wave before unlocking my front door and entering the quiet refuge of my new home.
Deep in my gut, I know I can trust Duke. There’s something honest about him, maybe it was the way he handled the movers this morning or maybe it’s the way he didn’t hold back in telling me his fantasies. His words replay over and over in my mind as I get ready for bed.
As I settle onto the couch for the night, I feel restless. The idea of calling someone “daddy” for sexual pleasure is both enticing and frightening. When I close my eyes, Duke’s face pops into my mind immediately and I let myself fantasize. I picture his strong body covering me as he pounds his cock ruthlessly inside of me over and over, demanding I say the one thing he wants to hear. And when I refuse to submit, he continues to torture me with endless pleasure, keeping me right on the edge until I finally beg him for release.
“Not until you say it, Libby,” Duke demands in my dream.
My mouth opens to say exactly what he wants to hear but the word never comes. He leaves me, completely unsatisfied and the fantasy ends, turning quickly into a nightmare. Duke is bathed in a sinister red glow and in his hand, he holds a leather whip.
“I’m your daddy, Libby. Submit to me,” he says with a crack of the whip. “Bend over and show me your ass because I own you.”
My eyes pop open and I sit up on the coach, breathing heavily and back in reality.
What the fuck was that?
The rest of the night is a waste and I end up unpacking a few boxes until I feel sleepy. It only feels like I’ve been asleep for less than hour when someone knocking on my front door startles me.
“Shit,” I hiss, jumping off the couch. There’s light streaming through my windows making everything extremely bright. I stumble to the door, open it and am face-to-face with a scowling Duke.
He thrusts a pastry box into my hands. “Cinnamon apricot muffins, from Milltown Bakery. Why don’t you have any curtains on your windows? Or blinds?”
He pushes past me into the house and starts looking around. I’m stunned. He spins and levels me with an expectant glare.
“Because I just moved in yesterday?” I offer with a shrug.
“Well I can see everything through your front window. And I mean everything.” His eyes skim my body and stop right at my waist which is when I realize I’m wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boy briefs.
I quickly set the box of muffins down on the table and scurry to my bedroom to find a pair of shorts.
When I return to the living room, Duke has a box cutter in his hand and he’s opening one of the dozen boxes stacked along the wall.
“What are you doing?” It’s a stupid question because clearly, I can see what he’s doing.
“Helping you. You’ve got to have curtains in one of these boxes,” he mutters.
“I don’t.”
He stares at me with big blue eyes before shaking his head and mumbling something about spanking me.
“Is this a part of the whole daddy thing?” I ask, curious.
“No, it’s a pervert thing. Do you want people staring at you through the window?”
I feel like a child being admonished by… well, by her father. I sit down on the couch with a thud and look up at him. “If this is what you were talking about last night then I am not here for it. I don’t need to be treated like a child, Duke.”
His hardness softens as he sits beside me. “This not what a daddy relationship is all about. Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what to think! Do you like using leather whips on women?”
“No, I will never hurt you, baby.” He reaches up to run a comforting hand through my tangled curls. “Don’t get me confused with Christian Grey, Libby. He’s a fictional character and I’m a real fucking man.”
Duke
For the next few hours, I help Libby unpack and move furniture. I learn so much with every box I open. For instance, after the fifth box of books, it was easy to figure out she loved reading. Her eclectic, shabby chic furniture made the house feel comfortable and cozy.
“That’s enough for now,” she says after I’ve just finished assembling her bed. “I need to get ready for work.”
Unexpectedly, I feel a little insecure. “Can I take you to dinner again tonight?”
“I won’t get home until well after dinner. How about I call you and we can make plans?”
“Sure,” I agree. I turn to leave but then I realize she hasn’t looked me square in the eye in a while. Whenever we talked, she looked beyond me or was busy unpacking a box. I spin quickly on my heel. “Are you avoiding me, Libby?”
The uneasy smile on her lips is telling. “Of course not, Duke.”
Over the years, I’ve developed a keen ability to determine when someone is lying to me. And Libby just did.
I’ll let her have this one, but the next time she lies there will be a consequence. I step forward and place a light hand around her waist before bending to lightly kiss her cheek. “Have a good day. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
I head toward the front door and stop when I notice the lock. “Call your landlord and have him change this lock. Anyone with half a muscle could just break in here,” I tell her.
“Sure. I’ll call him tomorrow.”
“Call him today, I mean it. And get some fucking curtains.”
I leave before I haul her across my knee. She’s not ready for that, not even close.
No one as fresh and pure as Libby has crossed my path for years. The first time I married, we were both young and stupid. Neither of us knew what it meant to in a committed relationship and my job as a firefighter seriously impacted our ability to learn.
My first marriage ended in complete disaster after I realized she was cheating. It took me a while to trust someone else again, to find another person willing to take the risk associated with being married to a firefighter.
My second marriage was like a revelation. It’s when I discovered my daddy kink, where I learned to get off on dominating my partner.
I wince at that term. Domination. I would never describe myself as a dominant. Demanding? Hell yes. But I never want my partner to just submit; I only want her to be open and willing.
My second wife was very willing to let me explore my personal kinks with her. The problem? I was never around, and she always worried about my safety. No matter how often I reassured her, she could never shake that uneasy feeling every time I left home for my shift.
Our divorce was amicable, and we remained friends, and sexual partners, for a long while until she moved across the country for a job opportunity.
I never considered opening my heart again to another person, not until I saw Libby crying on her front lawn. And I knew without a doubt I had to have her, no matter the cost.
When I see the headlight of her car later that evening, I step out onto the porch. I shouldn’t push her but dammit if I’m not drawn to her like a siren. Something inside of her is singing a silent song, pulling me in until I crash.
When she gets out of her car, she looks up at me. Her hair is a wild mess and there’s paint o
n her cheeks but she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Come have a drink with me,” I call out.
“I’m really tired, Duke,” she replies.
“Then I’ll bring the drinks to you.” I gather up my bottle of whiskey and two glasses and walk over to her yard. “How was work?”
“Busy.”
I hold up the whiskey. “Do you drink?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Not that.
Her lips are pink and glossy, and I desperately want to taste them. How would Libby taste? Sweet like sugar? Or tart like a cherry?
“Come on inside,” she says, motioning toward the door.
I glance at the windows and then at the door. “Did you call your landlord yet?”
“Haven’t had a chance. We were so busy tonight.”
I suppress the growl in my throat. “So, I guess that means curtains aren’t very high on your priority either?”
“Not really,” she sing-songs before turning back to me with a grin.
I follow her into the kitchen and press her against the counter. “Libby,” I rumble. “You need to be safe.”
Her pink tongue darts out and licks her lips. Fuck, it’s like she’s teasing me. I set the bottle and glasses down on the counter beside her and then rest my hands on her waist. “I want you so fucking badly, more than I’ve ever wanted a woman before.”
“Duke—” she starts to protest.
I hold up a hand. “Just give me a chance, Libby. Let me show you and if it’s too much, I’ll back off.”
She’s quiet, her eyes dancing around the room. She shifts her weight until at last she sighs. “All right, Duke. Take me to Daddy-land.”
Libby
During my breaks today, I did some research. Duke’s got me curious about this whole daddy kink. When he came over, it felt good to have someone concerned. After years of Bronson’s indifference, being noticed and wanted by a man like Duke was almost surprising. So, when I had a few moments to spare, I relied on my good friend Google to help me out.
Nothing about daddy dominant relationships truly scares me. Do I want to be spanked? Not particularly. I don’t need someone to arbitrarily dole out punishment just because I broke a “rule.” But the rest of what I read – and saw – was fascinating and arousing. And for the rest of my shift, I kept wondering what it would be like to have Duke take charge.
“Let’s go to my place,” Duke suggests. We haven’t even had that drink. The glasses and whiskey he brought over remain untouched on my counter.
“What’s wrong with my place?”
Duke presses himself against me and I can feel his hardness against my belly. “It’s not a suggestion, Libby. Let’s go to my place.”
He grabs my hand and we leave. He barely gives me enough time to lock up. The minute I step over the threshold and into the foyer of his home, his hands are firm around my waist, spinning me until we’re eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose. His breathing is hard, and his eyes are dark with desire. My body tenses, waiting for him to make his move. And when he does, sweet Jesus… his kiss brands me. His kiss tells me exactly who I belong to —him. My knees start to buckle, and I grasp onto his forearms to steady myself. Finally, he tears his mouth away, leaving me breathless.
“I don’t want to scare you, baby. Tell me to stop and I will. Understand?”
Silently, I nod. The anticipation from one moment to the next builds inside me until I’m a ball of nerves. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life and yet, I’ve never been more scared of my own feelings.
He guides me to the living room and bends me over the arm of the couch. He sucks in a sharp breath and from the corner of my eye, I can see him admiring me.
He flicks his gaze up and his nostrils flare. “Fuck, Libby. Tell me you want this. I won’t lay another finger on you until you tell me what you want.”
“Yes,” I croak.
“Yes what?”
“Yes Daddy, I want this.” My voice is stronger, confident. Those words feel liberating, like I can finally give a voice to all of my secret desires.
I’m breathless as he hooks his fingers into the side of my shorts and tugs them along with my panties down my thighs. He closes his eyes, presses his nose against my bare pussy and inhales my scent deeply. Then he swipes his tongue along my seam; I shiver with delight, hoping for more.
I press myself into the couch, thrusting my ass farther into the air. His tongue is heaven as it licks me from front to back. He parts my folds with his fingers and sucks my clit into his mouth before releasing it. The coarse hair of his beard brushes against my sensitive inner-thighs. I moan as he continues feasting on me, delicious tension building slowly in my body with each swipe of his tongue or nibble of his teeth.
And then he does something unexpected. He drags his tongue all the way up to my ass and swirls it around the tight puckered bundle of muscle and nerves.
“Oh!” I groan. He replaces his tongue with a finger, circling my hole and pressing slightly. I shiver with delight.
“Daddy’s going to claim this ass soon,” he purrs. “Are you ready for my cock, baby? Or do you want more of my tongue?”
Both! I want both but my body is so tense, ready for release. “Tongue.”
He covers my pussy with his mouth, sucking hard before he slips a finger inside. The combination of his finger and his tongue flicking my clit is more than enough to send me over the edge. My body begins to tremble and my pussy clenches until I explode. I jerk away as Duke continues to lap up my juices until finally, I beg him to stop.
From behind me, I hear a rustling of fabric and then the unmistakable sound of a zipper sliding down. There’s a soft thud and I turn my head slightly to see his jeans pooled around his feet. He steps out of them and I catch the distinctive outline of his massive bulge straining against his red boxer briefs. He bends down, picks up his pants and pulls out his wallet.
“Safety first,” he says with a devilish smile as he extracts a condom.
I suck in a breath the moment he pushes his boxer briefs down his thighs and his cock pops out, hard and proud. He’s huge and I begin to doubt his ability to fit inside me. He rolls the condom down his impressive length and takes a step forward.
“This might feel uncomfortable,” he says softly as he skims a hand down my back. He runs his cock through my folds and places the head at the entrance to my core. “Ready, baby?”
I nod my head. “Yes, Daddy.”
He doesn’t give me any warning, just plunges his cock deep inside of me. “Fuck you’re tight.” He remains still while I adjust to his size, to the feeling of fullness. He slides slowly out before sinking back into me.
I grab at the fabric of the couch, trying to steady myself as his rhythm increases. This is pure, primal fucking. His grunts and moans drive me wild and I find myself pressing back into him, driving him deeper into me.
“That’s right baby girl,” he rasps out. “Fuck my dick.”
He stops to let me grind on him. He places his hands lightly on my hips, guiding me slightly. I hear a sharp hiss of breath before he lands a stinging smack across my ass. Then he’s back in control, gripping my hips tightly while he sets a furious pace, leaving me breathless until I feel his cock swell inside of me. He roars out his orgasm but I’m still hanging on by a thread.
“Please, Daddy,” I whine.
Duke grabs one of my legs and hitches it up, placing it on the arm of the couch. His fingers circle my clit furiously. He whispers his filthy encouragement in my ear and soon, my body starts to tremble until I fall to pieces in his hand.
I collapse against the sofa as he slides out. “You okay?” He asks softly.
My breath is heavy and my heart thunders inside my chest, but I feel lighter. Duke unlocked a part of me I never knew existed.
“I’m perfect,” I say as I gradually stand, and a smile slowly spreads across my lips.
“Come on, let’s go clean up,” he says, holding out his hand to me.
He leads me through his house to the master bedroom and the attached master bath. I notice the tasteful masculine décor, but I’m distracted by the ache between my legs. Two orgasms and I’m still not fully satisfied. I’m still craving more of him.
I strip off my clothes as Duke starts the shower before I join him. He turns to face me, a content smile on his lips. But he’s got something I want, something I started fantasizing about the moment he gave life to my secret cravings.
I drop to my knees and look up at him. His nostrils flare as he waits for me to say the words that created this avalanche of sexual awakening.
“Please, Daddy.”
Duke
Beside me, Libby is sound asleep. Her red curls spill over the snow-white pillow. My eyes trace every inch of her body, starting with the perfect pink lips that were wrapped around my dick an hour ago before making my way to her bare chest. My mouth waters at the sight of her tits. Fantasy after fantasy flashes through my mind. I want to suck them and mark them with my cum. I feel restless as I watch her because I want nothing more than to claim her.
She stirs and I’m hopeful she’ll open those pretty blue eyes so I can sink my cock into her again. This time I’ll go slow, I’ll savor every moment. But she wraps herself in the sheet and turns away.
I fall back against the bed and close my eyes. It’s been a while since a woman warmed my bed. And I don’t think I want to get rid of her any time soon.
I’m screwed is the last thought I have right before I fall asleep.
After years as a fireman, my body is accustomed to waking up at the first signs of morning. I stretch out alongside the warm body beside me and think, I’m a fucking lucky man. Libby’s trust tonight is a gift I want to keep earning. How far can I push her? My hand slowly trails up the curve of her hip and down her belly before it teases her thighs open.
She starts to move and I freeze. Maybe this is too much, I think. Maybe I’m too greedy.
Her Yankee Doodle Daddy (The Fireworks Series ) Page 2