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

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Daddy's Demands: Twenty-Five Steamy Daddy Dom Romance Novellas Page 58

by Madison Faye

“No.” Caine cut her off. Taking hold of her chin, he tilted her face up to meet his eyes. There was no mistaking the passion she saw blazing in his gaze, but he looked stern as well.

  “No,” he repeated. “That was a punishment. That was to help you atone for your temper. Later, we can do more. But for now, I want you to stay sore and horny.”

  “Why?” The word came out as a pitiful squeak.

  “Because Daddy said so, little girl. And what Daddy says, goes.”

  Tessa pouted. “Not fair.”

  Sparks flew through her again, threatening to make her combust, as Caine lowered his face to hers and kissed her nose. “Very fair.” He straightened up, placing his hands on her shoulders, so that she had to look up to see his face. She felt small.

  “Besides, when I make you mine, I want to take my time, do it properly. When I claim you, I’m going to do a thorough job of it.”

  Tessa couldn’t breathe; the air was so thick between them she could have cut it with a knife. Her whole body sizzled, every nerve ending tingling at the promise in his words. The horse float felt too small, the walls were closing in on her. And she couldn’t believe she was standing there with her naked lower half on display in front of Caine Foster. Surely she was dreaming.

  Tessa’s hands shook as she righted her clothing.

  “Do you feel better?” Caine asked.

  She nodded. She did feel better. The guilt that had racked her body had left her, as had much of the stress she’d been feeling since her father’s sudden death. She hadn’t been eating or sleeping properly, and had been using far too much alcohol to numb her pain. She’d been lost, flailing, trying to sink or swim in a world that didn’t feel right, where the only constant had been her horse.

  “Yes, thank you, it helped.” She was embarrassed, now. Caine Foster, three time all-round national champion cowboy, really had just bared her ass and whipped it with a riding crop, as punishment for losing her temper. She felt her face flush with shame. What must he think of her?

  He winked at her rakishly, turning her insides to mush. “I’m glad,” he said.

  She couldn’t look at him, now. It was too embarrassing. He’d seen her most private parts, wantonly displayed for him, dripping wet with lust, and he’d whipped her to tears.

  “Look at me.” It was a command, spoken softly yet sternly, but she couldn’t bring herself to obey. She couldn’t make herself lift her eyes to meet his. Instead, she shook her head slowly.

  Caine sighed. “Okay. But I have to run, I’ve got to get ready for my ride. I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

  “Will you?” She sounded bitter, and mentally berated herself for it. But right now, it felt like he was rejecting her, using her and discarding her like a piece of trash. She shouldn’t be surprised, really. Caine was well-known and popular; females threw themselves at him constantly—she’d seen it with her own eyes. He could snare any woman he wanted. Why would he want to bother with her? Why did she want him to feel obligated to her? Just because he’d whipped her…

  His fingers gripping her chin forced her to look at him. It wasn’t rejection she saw in his face, but passion. Lust. A quiver went through her.

  “Yes, I will,” he insisted firmly. “We’ve got unfinished business. I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep, little girl.”

  “Why are you wasting your time with me when there are dozens of women out there waiting for you?”

  “Because I like you.” His answer was simple. “And because you need a daddy.”

  “Do I?” Yes, you do! her inner voice agreed. A daddy is just what you need! Someone to hold you accountable, someone to care for you, someone to love you and cherish you and make sure you take care of yourself properly. You need a strong daddy to command your submission. You need a daddy to trust.

  “You do. I could tell that by watching you before; your body language. And I want a little girl.” He was mesmerising as his thumb stroked her cheek. “I like you, Tessa, a lot.”

  “So this isn’t just a game for you then? Another notch in your belt?”

  He shook his head. “No. Definitely not. I wouldn’t punish a woman I wasn’t serious about.”

  A little thrill went through her and she smiled.

  Caine tilted her face up to his and kissed her, softly at first, then hungrily, his mouth claiming hers, leaving her in no doubt as to how he felt.

  “See you soon, baby girl.”

  Chapter Three

  It was nearly the last event of the day—the Open Bull ride. From her spot on the hill with the rest of the spectators she’d watched him compete in the rope and tie, bareback, and saddle bronc, and she’d held her breath, watching nervously, through each one. Just as she’d seen him do in every event for years, his performance was flawless; despite the horses’ best attempts, neither managed to unseat him during their bucking, jumping, kicking, twisting rides. He clung to the saddle seemingly effortlessly, not even looking like he might come off.

  Her heart pounded for the whole eight seconds, and she didn’t breathe until the bell sounded and he jumped off, safe again. After he jumped to his feet and brushed the dust off his jeans, his eyes had searched hers out in the crowd and when they’d found each other he’d smiled, touching the brim of his hat in silent salute, reminding her of his promise. Had the other spectators around her noticed? Did they know what Caine had done to her in the privacy of the horse float? That he’d punished her soundly and made her his little girl? Did they notice her squirming as she sat on the grass and wonder why? Could they tell that her knickers were sodden and her pussy was still pulsing with need, remembering what Caine had done with the riding crop? Was her arousal obvious?

  “Hello, sexy.” The deep voice rumbling in her ear made her go all melty inside as the big hands that were now so familiar to her wrapped around her waist.

  “You were so good!” she gushed, awed by his presence once again, still barely able to believe that this was actually happening—that Caine Foster actually wanted her.

  Grinning, he reached out and ran his hand over the crotch of her jeans, teasing her. In response, she pressed her body against him, grinding her pelvis against his, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “You started something before,” she whispered coyly, playing with the collar of his shirt. “I want you to finish it.”

  “I’m going to, little girl. Very soon.”

  She winced as he patted her backside, not very gently. “Still sore?”

  “Yes!”

  Caine chuckled. “Good.” He took her hand. “Come.”

  Her hand fitted in his perfectly, their fingers slotting together as though they had been made for each other. His was much larger, and the strength in his calloused grip was strangely reassuring. He shortened his naturally long stride to match hers, and led her over to the wooden post and rail fence at the back of the chutes. His big hands went to her waist again, effortlessly lifting her up to sit her on the rail next to a line of cowboys that she didn’t know.

  “Sit up here,” he told her. “Davo and the boys will look after you while I get ready. There’s a good view from here—you can see the chutes and everything. You be good while I’m gone, little girl.” He winked.

  I don’t need anyone to look after me! she wanted to yell at him, but it was a lie. Truthfully, it was nice to know that she wasn’t totally alone in the world.

  With a quick kiss to her cheek, he was gone.

  Tessa looked around wildly, clinging to the railing. Her heart was pounding as she thought of what Caine’s public claiming of her meant. What did Davo and the boys—if that was who the cowboys sitting next to her were—think of his words?

  She squirmed backwards a bit, trying to find a comfortable position for her tender butt on the hard rail.

  Tessa startled at the touch on her arm. The cowboy sitting next to her—Davo, she assumed—leaned across her and pointed. “Look—that chute over there, the third one along—that’s Geronimo. Caine’s about to get down on him.


  She looked. Geronimo was a huge black bull with big horns. He looked powerful and mean. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched Caine slowly lower himself down on top of the massive creature. The muscles in his forearm bulged as he wrapped the rope around his gloved hand and pulled it tight. She couldn’t watch, but nor could she tear her eyes away. Geronimo tossed his head, throwing Caine around a bit, and she gasped, terrified for him.

  Her heart pounded as Caine nodded for the gate and Geronimo leaped out. She gripped the railing so tightly in fear, her knuckles were white. Caine was right—the view was good from up there on the railing. She could see so much better from here than she could from the bank where the rest of the spectators were. She watched his body move with the bull, an intricate dance where only one partner knows the steps. Geronimo hadn’t moved too far from the chutes, preferring to twist and spin and buck not far from her position on the railing and she was close enough to see the muscles in Caine’s left arm straining to hold him on the bull, his body working to keep him balanced, the spurs on his heels rolling over Geronimo’s ribs. Music blared in the background but she couldn’t hear it; couldn’t hear anything except the blood pounding in her ears.

  The seconds slowly ticked by, each one seeming to last a lifetime. Geronimo was spinning, twisting, kicking, bucking, moving so fast, and Caine clung on. The cowboys beside her cheered him on, shouting encouragement, their excitement rocking the railing and making her grip it even tighter.

  “No!” she cried as he slipped sideways the tiniest fraction. The cowboys beside her gasped, their cheering ceasing for a moment, Don’t let him fall! she screamed a silent prayer.

  The bullfighters moved in closer, skipping in front of Geronimo, encouraging him to move faster, buck higher. Even in his precarious sideways-toppling position, Caine clung on.

  Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the eight-second horn blared. He’d done it!

  Tessa threw her fist in the air. “Yes!”

  If she’d thought the rocking on the railing was bad before, it was nothing compared to now, with Davo and the boys all clapping, whistling, and cheering.

  But it wasn’t over. Tessa’s hands went to her mouth in horror as Caine ran for the fence with Geronimo hot on his heels. Caine had landed well, but the bull had spun instantly, pawed at the ground, lowered his head, and charged. Now he had one target in mind. She held her breath as the bullfighters intercepted him, but Geronimo was on a mission. The cowboys were as silent as she as they watched the fresh battle playing out in the arena: man against beast. It was only a couple of seconds, but it felt like forever, before the bullfighters distracted Geronimo enough to lead him away, back through the gate into the pen at the edge of the arena. Caine stopped running, went back to retrieve his hat and rope, and turned slowly, searching the fence line for her. Their eyes locked. A slow smile spread across his face. Her heart skipped a beat. He was so handsome standing there, covered in dust, his hat in his hand, his scruffy hair squashed flat, half an arena away.

  When I claim you, I’m going to do a thorough job of it echoed in her mind. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he climbed out of the arena a bit further down. She jumped down and ran to meet him, pushing her way through the throng of people blocking her path. She leapt into his arms and he swung her in a big circle before she wrapped her legs around his waist, throwing her arms around his neck and sealing his lips with hers, kissing him hungrily, claiming him.

  “We’ve got unfinished business, little girl,” he growled in her ear. His hands were clasped around her bottom, holding her up, but he let her go with one hand and smacked her ass as he growled the words. The smack didn’t much hurt, but combined with the growly words and the kiss it sent tingles down her spine and heat to her core.

  She clung to him as he strode toward the parking area at the back of the rodeo grounds. Her pulse raced faster the closer they got. The rough fabric of her jeans chafed her tender skin with Caine’s strides, but instead of being unpleasant, the pain went straight to her pussy, heightening her already aroused state. Tessa nibbled at his neck, delighting in his musky, dusty, pure alpha male scent.

  “I’m going to make you mine, little girl.”

  The promise made her squirm.

  At the parking area, he didn’t walk toward the far end where her car and horse float were parked; instead, he walked to an old blue Bedford horse truck more toward the centre. “My truck,” he informed her. “It will be a bit more comfortable than your float. There’s a bed inside.”

  Putting her down on the ground, he ushered her inside in front of him, and up the stepladder to the double bed up above the cab.

  Tessa’s insides churned and her palms were clammy, matching her ragged breathing and pounding heart. Trying to calm her nerves, she inhaled deeply. The smell of horses and leather was thick in the stale air. Vents lined the wall at each end but they didn’t help much until Caine crept up beside her and pushed open a little window, letting in both light and a fresh, gentle breeze.

  Caine pushed her down flat on her back on the bed, straddling her waist, pinning her hands above her head using just one of his huge hands on her wrists. He lowered his mouth to hers, devouring her. Sparks shot through her, sending heat directly to her loins. The kiss was intense, urgent, the weight of him pressing her firm against the mattress. She couldn’t breathe; he consumed her wholly. Slowly, his lips left hers and he kissed her neck, her throat, the stubble on his face scratching her, his chapped lips and rough tongue tickling, teasing, tormenting, as he kissed and sucked his way down her décolletage, parting her shirt with his other hand to kiss between her aching breasts. Tessa arched her back, offering herself to him, but she was powerless to move, restrained by his strong hand and his hard body.

  There was nothing, no one else in the world that mattered. Her thoughts scattered, all she could think of was the feel of his mouth on her body, the way his lips ran over her skin, the way she prickled in the dampness left in the wake of his tongue as he tasted her.

  His fingers fumbled with the buttons on her shirt and she wanted to help him, to wrench them free, but her hands were still held fast above her head, her wrists pinned.

  “Don’t move,” he told her in a growly whisper. “Let me ravish you.”

  She squirmed and arched up toward him more, lifting her head up off the bed. “But I want…”

  “Hush.” He touched his fingers to her lips and looked at her sternly. “You’re not very good at following orders, are you, little girl? I think you’re going to need lots of spankings to learn how to obey.”

  Her tummy flip-flopped. How could a man sound so sexy yet so stern at the same time?

  She smiled up at him. “Or, you could just accept the fact that I’m not very obedient,” she suggested.

  Winning the battle with the buttons, Caine spread her shirt open wide and cupped her left breast in his hand. “I like my idea better,” he growled.

  She gasped as he trailed his fingers over her torso before pulling aside the cup of her bra and freeing her breast. He flicked her hard nipple and rolled it between his fingers before leaning down and sucking it into his mouth. A low moan came from deep in her throat as she thrust her body up to meet him.

  Fire consumed her. She was going to self-combust. Caine moved to her other nipple, wetting it with his mouth, blowing over it gently, twirling it in his fingers, sending waves of pleasure through her.

  “Oh, my god! Caine!” she squealed.

  He looked down at her and chuckled. “Shhhh,” he reminded her. “Otherwise I’ll have to spank you. Daddy told you to be quiet, and when Daddy tells you to do something, he expects to be obeyed.”

  “You wouldn’t actually have to spank me,” she argued, smiling cheekily up at him.

  The look he gave her, a mix of amusement, sternness, and pure lust, was almost her undoing.

  “Oh, but I would, little girl,” he said softly, his deep growly voice barely above a whisper. “Because daddies always fol
low through on their promises.”

  He sat up then, releasing her wrists. “Stay right here, don’t move an inch. I’ll be back.”

  She watched as he slid down the stepladder to the main part of the truck then a couple of seconds later reappeared, a length of thick, soft rope and a riding crop in his hand. Her eyes widened and she shrank back slightly.

  “Just relax and trust Daddy,” he crooned. He waved the whip at her. “This can be used for pleasure as well as pain, you know. And this,” he lifted up the rope, “is to make sure you obey, so I don’t have to spank you.”

  The sensible part of her was telling her to run. She was in the back of a horse truck with a man she barely knew; the same man was blocking the only exit and holding a rope and a whip. Already today, he’d whipped her bare bottom and made her cry.

  She knew she should run. Or scream. Or fight. Or something.

  But she didn’t want to. Because that same man had shown her such kindness, he’d comforted her and helped her, and he was sexy as hell with a voice as rough around the edges as the scruff on his chin.

  And right now he was stripping off his shirt to expose broad shoulders rippling with muscles, tribal tattoos curling around both massive biceps. Nicely defined pecs that had come from hard physical work, not hours in a gym. His magnetic eyes were locked on hers and they held a promise of something good. And she knew that even if she wanted to run, she wasn’t going to. Because she knew deep down that she could trust this man, and she wanted all of what he had to offer.

  A shiver that started deep inside her, low in her body, spread upward, up her spine, through her trembling pussy, flipping her insides upside down, increasing the achy tightness in her breasts, through her pounding heart, making her breath catch in her throat, and up her arms to where her fingers were still touching up above her head, exactly where he had left them. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his gaze as he slid his shirt completely off and threw it down, then undid his belt, his fly, and slid his jeans down to his knees.

 

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