Daddy's Demands: Twenty-Five Steamy Daddy Dom Romance Novellas

by Madison Faye

  His office is open to a sort of showroom. A vintage convertible is on display. Sleek and low to the ground. Lipstick red. I could do my makeup in the gleaming chrome. The rest of the room is a bachelor’s dream, full of all sorts of games, including a Ms. Pacman arcade machine.

  “You have an air hockey table,” I gasp, delighted. If my mechanic had a waiting room like this, I’d be better about getting my car’s oil changed. “This place is awesome.”

  “You want to play?”

  “I don’t know. I’m pretty competitive.” I lean over the mini rink, giving him a heart-stopping view of my breasts. “I’ll do anything to win.”

  “What do I get if I let you?”

  “Whatever you want.” I saunter over to the pool table. “So how does this work?” I chalk the end of a cue.

  “Bend over and I’ll show you.”

  I obey. “Like this?”

  “Just like that.” He runs a hand up my back before he covers me with his body and guides me into position. “And then you just…” The cue strokes forward. The cue ball hits the red ball with a delicious snick. The three rolls right into the pocket.

  “We did it. What’s my reward?”

  His hands slide up my legs, grip my panties. The next thing I know, his arms flex around me and my ruined thong flutters to the floor.

  “Holy fuck,” I gasp. He just ripped my underwear off.

  His big hand cups my ass under the dress. “What did I tell you about swearing?” he asks, just as his palm connects with my right butt cheek, hard.

  “I thought you were joking!”

  “I should put you over my knee,” he growls, and smacks my butt again. At the sting, arousal spikes through me. My legs give out. I collapse on the pool table, panting.

  “You know the rules.”

  I nod.

  “Say ‘Yes, Daddy,’” he commands.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I repeat, and his right hand comes between my legs rewarding me with the most delicious touch. His left arm snakes around my waist, holding me in place. I let my head rest on his chest, intent on the movement of his fingers. He strokes me to the edge and then withdraws.

  “Not fair!” I cry as he pulls away. My pussy throbs.

  “Later,” he says, and hugs me to him as he pulls out his cell phone and calmly orders a pizza. I’m not hungry for anything but Bear. You’d think I’d be used to him playing the long game. I caress his jean-clad crotch and he catches my wrist, shaking his head a little.

  I pout at him until he hangs up. “You ripped my underwear.”

  “I’ll buy you a new pair.”

  “Daddy Morebucks.”

  His chuckle is an earthquake under my cheek. I wriggle upward and find his mouth and then we’re kissing, lips pulling and persuading, a climax-of-the-movie kiss. After a moment, he stands, taking me with him. My legs wrap around him as he strides to the vintage Cadillac. He lays me back and my hair spills out of my ‘do, auburn splashing across the red paint. One of Bear’s big hands grips my calf, hitching it higher. I’m open and angled to fit his body between my legs.

  “Wait—what about the pizza?”

  “What about it?” He pulls me close and presses forward. The Cadillac is the right height for him to take me. All he has to do is unzip his jeans and free himself. “Sawyer said you like a little exhibitionism.”

  A laugh shudders out of me. His hips roll against me, stealing my thoughts and my breath, one by one. I hook a leg around his waist and grind against him, not caring that I’ll leave a wet spot on his jeans.

  “Please.” I brace against the car hood, straining toward him.

  Bear slips a hand under my bottom. “You want this?”

  “Yes, yes, yes.” In a moment of inspiration, I unzip the bodice and strip the spaghetti straps down. The top was too tight to wear a bra. My breasts spill out and I arch my back, presenting them to his touch.

  “Fu—” he almost swears.

  “Fuck me, Daddy,” I breathe.

  He pulls a condom out of his pocket before he shucks down his jeans and tugs me against him. I watch, panting, as he sheaths his cock. He finds my entrance and presses slowly forward, easing in as my legs tremble and my body stretches around him.

  He’s not smiling, but he’s beautiful. I lay a hand against his taut jaw, then slide it to the back of his neck to hold on.

  Each thrust is its own punishment and reward. I dig my nails into giant flexing muscles and let my orgasm rise.

  “I… I can’t… I’m gonna…”

  “Come, baby,” he says, and I shake apart.

  “Omigod, omigod…”

  Bear slams into me, one hand braced by my head, the other holding my leg. My first climax rolls through me and washes back into a second. And still he fucks me. He is immortal, he’s a god. This will never end.

  My ears ring with my cries, I grip Bear so hard I’m sure I’ve drawn blood. Catching my breath between climaxes, I surge upward and bite his neck.

  Bear’s body jerks. His hips snap into me a final time, grinding down as he finds his release. I surrender, my body melting into his, accepting the final plundering thrust, showering him with kisses and cooing adoration. His lips find mine but he lets me lead, sweet and quiet worship.

  Satisfied, I lean back. For once, his record cool is shattered. His eyes are open, vulnerable, searching my face.

  I lick my lips. “Thank you, Daddy.” I try for Marilyn Monroe levels of coy, but my voice cracks a little.

  It was supposed to be a game, a fling. The most important rule: Don’t get attached. Grab your orgasm and run.

  This is not just sex. How can we just walk away from this?

  “I guess I can orgasm with a guy.” I let my arms fall away and lean back to tug up my dress. Pulling away, even as we’re still connected. He’s still inside me.

  “Evie, I…”

  I press a finger to his lips. He can’t speak and break the spell. As it is, I’m not sure if I’m going to leave with my heart intact.

  “Listen—” he starts when the shop buzzer makes me lurch against him.

  “Pizza delivery!”

  “Leave it on the stoop,” Bear shouts, and I burst out laughing.

  * * *

  Bear’s office has a couch. After cleaning me up, he carries me there and feeds me pizza. A girl could get used to this.

  You will not get used to this, I scold. You love ‘em and leave ‘em now, remember?

  The big screen in the game room has a movie silently playing. Grace Kelly and Cary Grant riding in a blue convertible. Poise, elegance. I try not to slurp cheese off my last slice. I do need the calories. Bear strokes my calf absently.

  “When is the wedding?”

  “What?” I squawk. “Oh, yes. My cousin’s wedding. It’s, uh, in a week.”

  I wait for him to say more but he does not. I finish my meal and crawl up on his lap. He hasn’t said much since our mutual Cum-maggedon. I know he felt it like I did. In my experience, guys tend to ignore those feelings. They date me for a bit until my weirdness starts to grate, then they leave me for someone thinner. If she’d stick to a diet, maybe she could keep a man. My auntie Jen has one solution. I have another: don’t try to keep one.

  “This was fun,” I sigh.

  A smile ghosts over Bear’s mouth. “I meant for us to end up in bed.”

  “It’s okay,” I murmur, stroking his short hair. “We have plenty of time.” I say it before I remember it’s not true.

  * * *

  Round 4

  “You’re quiet.” Sawyer grabs a bag of gear out of the back of his Jeep and catches my hand, pulling me toward the beach.

  “I’m wearing a bikini. In public.”

  “You look great.” His smile dazzles. I hold his hand and keep my cover-up closed with the other.

  Sawyer leads me down the dunes to an empty stretch of sand. Two cliffs rise on either side of the beach like sentinels. There’s no one here but birds.

  “What is this place?”<
br />
  “The wildlife sanctuary. Don’t worry, I got permission.” He pauses to dig out a camera from his bag and sling it over his shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” I ask a bit nervously.

  “I’m doing a photography session with a model.”

  “Okay. Who’s the model?”

  Sawyer just looks at me.

  “Oh, no. Come on.”

  He fights a smile.

  “Awww,” I whine. “Do I have to?”

  He advances, grinning. His teeth are shark white. When he gets close he tugs me forward by my hips, bringing me the rest of the way. It never fails to get me hot, the way he and Bear manhandle me.

  “I want you to know how beautiful you are.”

  My blush spreads like a red tide over my exposed skin. So, basically, my entire body, all but a few inches.

  “Say yes, Daddy.”

  Those are the magic words. I tingle just reciting them—Bear has me primed for a reward. “Yes, Daddy.”

  Still smiling, he draws me to a few rocks and has me sit. I get to keep my gauzy cover-up, for now. Not that the see-through fabric is doing much to camouflage my body. He tugs my hair tie out and my hair tumbles around my face.

  “There,” he breathes. “Just like that. Don’t move.”

  “Or else?”

  “I’ll tie you up.” I wait for him to grin, but he’s perfectly serious. He backs away and starts setting up equipment. I bite my lip and look out at the ocean.

  “That’s it, Evie. Just relax.”

  I flinch at the sound of the shutter.

  “Wait.” He strides forward, catches my chin, and kisses the hell out of me. His lips leave mine for a moment; I make a sound like ‘nuuuh.’

  “Much better,” he says. I barely note when he backs away and starts taking pictures.

  The sun beats down, bathing our fearless heroine in radiant light. Her red hair shimmers. She moves, and it spills across her glorious chest. Click goes the camera shutter.

  I am a model. I am an object of beauty with creamy skin and auburn locks, wearing nothing but a translucent robe and a few pieces of fat string. I am ephemeral.

  Slowly, I strip off my coverall. I’m the star in my own movie, crossing the beach, staring at the horizon. Click goes the camera shutter. I shield my eyes a moment. Click, click, click. Then I head toward the surf, a sea goddess, a mermaid returning home.

  The ocean surges to greet me, covering my feet with green froth and pieces of seaweed.

  “Ygghah!” I gasp, staggering back. The water is absolutely freezing.

  “Yeah, it’s cold.” Sawyer laughs like a crazy man.

  “How do you surf in this?”

  He shrugs. “Wetsuits. Keep going. What were you going to do?”

  “I was going to get in the water, but it’s too cold.” My mermaid dreams are dashed.

  “Sometimes you gotta suffer for art.”

  “Is that what this is? Art?” I mutter, but I do my best. I dance in the surf until my toes are numb. I retreat to dry land until the sun bakes me. My sunscreen is long gone. Sawyer moves around me, capturing moments with each decisive click. He’s in the zone, totally focused.

  I decide to seduce him.

  “Mmmm,” I murmur, sliding my hands down my lush body. My breasts really are a work of art. I could just tug this string and they’d be free…

  I wait a moment for Sawyer to stop and ask what I’m doing. When he doesn’t, I continue. I’m topless, lounging in the surf. I roll in the sand. I tousle my hair and look over my shoulder, coy. I stretch like a cat in the sun.

  “Yes,” Sawyer murmurs, hot and husky like I’m pleasuring him. “That’s it, baby. Keep going.”

  I grow hot enough to return to the water. I lie half in, half out of the surf, letting the water rush over me. My nipples are hard enough to cut glass.

  My cheeks are hot. I’ve gone pink like undercooked meat. Another hour and I’ll be a lobster. Not to mention the sand up in my crotch, turning my bikini bottoms into sandpaper. My hair’s stringing, I’m sweaty and…gah, how do bikini models do it?

  “Uncomfortable?” Sawyer asks, and when I grumble yes, he nods to my bikini bottoms. “Take them off.”

  “What?”

  “Take them off.”

  “But—”

  “Do you trust me?”

  I bite my lip and nod.

  He crouches close. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  I end up on my knees in the surf, waving the white cover-up over my head like a flag. I surrender.

  “That’s a wrap, baby.” Sawyer puts his camera away.

  And then he meets me in the surf, grabbing my wet, sandy, sweaty body and hauling me against him. He’s rock hard and ready. He got this hard just watching me…

  I make a noise like ‘rauwrrr’ and pounce. We’re rolling in the sand, attacking each other with our mouths. I slide against him, ignoring the sandpaper grit.

  “Here.” He dips us in the ocean, ignoring my yelp. Once we’re clean of sand, he carries me up, shivering, to a rock spread with our towel. He sits, frees himself, and drives up into me so hard I cry out.

  “My beautiful girl,” he murmurs, holding my hips and surging. I rock on top of him.

  “You gotta ask permission,” he reminds me, and my body clenches on him so hard he bucks.

  “Fuck, Evie, come.”

  I throw back my head and ride the waves of pleasure.

  A seagull flies in lazy circles over us as Sawyer carries me to the car and sets me, wrapped in nothing but the towel, in the seat. My wet hair splays over the leather. I’m a mermaid come to land in the arms of her prince.

  “That was great,” I murmur when Sawyer returns from putting up his equipment. His jaw jerks up in agreement. “I bet I’m not like most models you use.”

  “No,” he agrees. “You’re not.”

  Ouch. I blink at my window. It’s just a game. I can do this.

  “It sure is fun waiting to see what you guys can come up with next. I’m looking forward to the next round with you.”

  “Right.”

  His clipped tone makes me tense. I spend the next few minutes trying out a few questions and responses in my head. Finally, I settle on, “Are you and Bear… okay with all this?”

  “Sure.” He shrugs, and gives me a Hollywood smile. He doesn’t meet my eyes. “It’s just a game, Evie. You have nothing to lose.”

  He’s wrong. I do have something to lose. My heart.

  * * *

  “Hey, bitch. How’s the meat sandwich?”

  “Mina…”

  “Oh, that’s right,” she laughs. “They’re the meat, you’re the middle of the sandwich. Lucky bitch.”

  “Stop.”

  “Am I making you blush? Take a picture and send it to me. Your blushes are epic.”

  “Gee, thanks. No, I will not send a picture.” This reminds me too much of Bear’s panty rule. I cover a cheek with my palm, and yes, my skin is hot to the touch.

  “Well? The dates?” she prompts when I don’t answer.

  “They’re not dates.”

  “The fuck buddy stuff, then.”

  Fuck buddy. That’s exactly the word for me. “Carp,” I mutter.

  “Carp?” Mina asks.

  “I’m trying to swear less.”

  “Fuck that!”

  “Mina… I have a question.” As soon as I say it I regret it, but Mina will never let up until I ask. “Do these guys date? Long relationships?”

  “No, not really. I asked my brothers and they don’t know of any girl that’s lasted more than a few months. But that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t change their mind. You know, for you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “What are you doing with them?”

  “Nothing. Just a stupid bet.” I’m nothing to them. I mean, they’re both bedding me. What guy is okay with that? They probably think I’m a slut. An easy lay. Even if I did wan
t to date one of them, at this point I’d be sloppy seconds. “They’re just foolin’ around. It means nothing.” Except for Bear’s little project to rehabilitate my self-esteem. Maybe he thinks he’s doing me a favor, fixing me to go on after the competition is over. Sawyer and him competing to spoil me, make me feel special.

  When I think about it all ending, I don’t feel special. I feel like a used soccer ball.

  I realize Mina is talking.

  “Why do you do this to yourself? Don’t you think they’d be interested in you?”

  “Look at me. Look at the girls they’re usually with.”

  “Fuck that. You. Are. Gorgeous. I don’t know how many times I’ve told you. You’re like a short Christina Hendricks. Total bombshell.”

  I say nothing and she mutters, “Your fucking aunt…”

  “Hey, remember my cousin Genevieve?” I change the subject. “She’s getting married.”

  “Awesome. Which guy are you taking to the wedding?”

  I sigh. “Neither.”

  “You should make them arm wrestle for the privilege. My money’s on Bear, although Sawyer has a good shot. He’s not as big, but he’s sneaky. Has he tried coming in your back door?”

  “Goodbye, Mina.”

  Chapter Six

  Round 5

  “What is this place?” We’re in an industrial part of town. Bear helps me pick my way across some broken concrete to a warehouse door.

  “This is Sawyer’s studio.”

  “Is he here?” I don’t know how Sawyer will like Bear bringing me here. Something tells me their friendship is now a bit strained.

  “Not now. Come on. I have something to show you.”

  Inside is pretty dim. I step into a dust-mote filled patch of light.

  “What is it you wanted to show me?”

  He flicks the lights and they stutter to life. I’m in the middle of a circle of photos, blown up to cover painting-sized canvases. My face reflected a dozen times.

  “Oh, my god.” It’s me, at the beach, hair blown across my face, curves on full display. It’s beautiful.