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

by Madison Faye

  “Was that okay, Daddy?”

  “Take off that robe and go lie over the arm of the couch.” He sounds angry and I’m a little thrown off. Surely he isn’t angry? He knows I’m inexperienced. I swallow thickly as I silently lay myself over the arm of the couch. My bottom is thrust up in the air and I feel extremely exposed.

  “There is something you need to know about me… I don’t just like punishing naughty girls. I like to punish well behaved little girls. I want you to be my good girl and I want to turn your ass red anyway. I want to see your big blue eyes fill with tears as you ask me why and beg me to stop… and then I want to fuck you until you scream.”

  I shift on my feet as he paints the picture of what he wants to do to me. I can imagine his big palm coming down on my bottom over and over again as tears track down my cheeks while I beg him to stop. Promise to be his good girl. I can feel my arousal dripping down my thighs because I’m so worked up. I want what he wants. Gage has tapped into every one of my naughtiest fantasies. The idea of BDSM and submission has always intrigued me but in the books I’ve read, most of the heroines get punished for being bad and breaking rules. I don’t want to be bad. I’m a pleaser. I want to follow the rules but if the wetness between my legs is any indicator, I also want to be punished.

  I jump when his hand cups one of my butt cheeks. “Do you want that, Estella? Do you want me to punish you even though you don’t deserve it?”

  I nod my head. Yes, yes please, I silently beg.

  “Use your words.”

  “Yes, I want that… Daddy,” I add at the last second.

  “Tell me what you want,” he pushes.

  “I—I want you to punish me. Spank me even though I don’t deserve it. F—” I stutter on the word. Cussing is against my stepmother’s rules. It’s unseemly, even though it doesn’t stop her from cussing a blue streak. “Fuck me, own me. I want you, Daddy. I’m yours.”

  “Such a naughty word from such an innocent mouth.” His hand cracks down on my bottom. “I think we should talk about rules,” he says, spanking my other cheek. “No cussing. No skipping meals. You will take time off to rest, I won’t have you exhausting yourself.” Each rule is accompanied by another swat. “I own your orgasms.” His fingers slip between my legs, and he teases my clit. I spread my legs wider, silently begging for more. “I’m the only one that touches you. No more fake dates. No more getting naked in front of other people at work. No one sees what’s mine.” His hand comes down harder as he lists off more rules. I’m to be in his bed every night, naked. He will handle my schedule and security. I’m to follow all security procedures at all times. Not that I would ever break that rule, especially not with Steve Nelson out of prison.

  The spanking continues until tears stream down my face and my bottom throbs with it. “Please, Daddy. I’ll be a good girl, please!” I wail when a particularly wicked swat lands on my upper thigh.

  He gives me two more resounding swats, then leans over my body, stretching his front along my back. His jeans abrade my abused bottom and I whimper. He pushes my hair out of my face and I look over my shoulder at him. He looks downright feral. A shiver of need courses through my body and I wiggle my bottom against him. I hiss out a breath at the sensation, but don’t stop.

  “Such a good girl.” Gage’s voice is a low rumble in my ear. “I think you deserve a reward.”

  He runs his hand down my side and around my hip. I moan when his fingers slip through my pussy lips and find my clit. He keeps me pinned to the couch with his body as he brings me to a lightning fast orgasm that leaves me completely wrung out. I make a pleading sound deep in my throat when he pulls away, leaving me bereft. I practically purr when he lifts me from my prone position and arranges me on his lap. He holds me close, crooning sweetly about how well I took my punishment and how perfect I am, I melt into his embrace, feeling content and cherished and happy. I can’t remember the last time I felt any of those things.

  Chapter Six

  Gage

  “Do we have to go out?” Estella asks again, a slight whine in her voice.

  I spank her ass in warning. “I already told you, yes. I’m taking you out on a proper date.”

  “But I’d rather stay here…” Her eyes flick toward the bedroom and I know exactly what my horny girl wants. We spent the afternoon cuddled on the couch watching reruns of Highway Thru Hell. I was shocked when Estella picked the show; I figured she’d want to watch some kind of trashy reality TV show or sitcom. She shyly admitted she’s a reality TV junky, but that she prefers things like Hoarders and Ice Road Truckers.

  She spent two hours wiggling around on my lap and not so subtly letting me know she wanted me to fuck her. When I told her no, she pouted.

  “Dinner first,” I say, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. “Then we will come back here, and I will bury my cock in your virgin pussy.”

  Her eyes glaze over at that and she licks her lips. “O-okay. Dinner, then…” She waves her hand in the direction of the bed. For someone so impatient to spread her legs for me, she’s adorably shy. She’s the perfect juxtaposition of sweet innocence and naughty princess who needs a good hard fucking.

  “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  The restaurant is a quiet Italian place that Rodney, one of Estella’s new security detail and my most trusted employee, suggested. He was right that the restaurant would not only be quiet but would have delicious food. Estella tries to order a salad and grilled fish, insisting that she can’t eat any of the rich pastas that are full of carbs and empty calories.

  After a brief argument and a threat that she would go to bed without the ‘dessert’ she so desperately wants, she agrees to order what she really wants, which is five-cheese lasagna. Like with the pizza and bacon, she moans indecently with every bite. Fuck, will I ever get through a meal with this woman without getting hard?

  “So, tell me, what made you decide to retire from the army?”

  “Did your brother not tell you?”

  She furrows her brow and her head tilts to the side in question. “He just told me that you retired. Andrew doesn’t tell me much, honestly. He doesn’t want me to worry.”

  “We were ambushed. I can’t tell you details other than I was shot and two of the men on my team were killed.”

  Estella gasps, her hand covering her mouth as her eyes scan over me as if I were still injured. “The bullet missed all the important stuff, but I lost a lot of blood. Andrew saved my life. He called for an evac and dragged me out of the line of fire. Anyway, long story short, it was a bit of a reality check and I decided that even though I love fighting for my country, there are other things in life. Important things that I don’t want to miss out on.”

  “Like what?”

  Such an innocent question. My brain tells me I’d be an idiot to disclose the full truth, that when I was lying on the desert sand, bleeding out, the only thing I could think about was the kiss I stole on her twenty-first birthday. I wanted her the first time I laid eyes on her, when she was too damn young for me to want her. I had convinced myself to stay away, that I was no good for her, and I did good at avoiding her, but then Andrew guilted me into coming to Estella’s birthday party, and I couldn’t stop myself from stealing a taste of her sweet lips. I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind since. She didn’t know it but, in that moment, I laid claim on her. I might’ve forced myself to walk away that night, but she was mine. Is mine.

  “You.”

  “But you didn’t even like me. You avoided me… except for the kiss… and after that you left, and I never heard from you. I don’t understand.”

  She looks at me with confusion, her eyes filled with old hurt. I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. “I avoided you because I am a dirty bastard who wanted nothing more than to defile you. I was trying to be respectful of your brother.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, Andrew is just going to have to fucking deal bec
ause you’re mine and I’m not giving you up for anything.” The hurt look disappears from her eyes and one of happiness takes its place. “Why are you still modeling even though you’re obviously miserable?”

  Estella puts her fork down and sighs. She turns her attention out the window. “I don’t know anymore. It was never my dream… I guess I’m just scared of the unknown. I mean, I only have a few more years until I won’t be considered desirable in the industry. It’s really cutthroat. Most models don’t last much beyond age twenty-five… some older if they are well liked.”

  “You’re loved by virtually everyone. I can’t foresee anyone holding age against you.”

  She lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe, maybe not. My face won’t stay youthful forever. I already have to cut back on calories and spend more time in the gym to keep my ideal weight.”

  Red-hot anger races through my veins. Estella is perfect; the fact that she’s denying herself the things she wants for a career she doesn’t frustrates me to no end. “You would be beautiful at any weight.”

  “That may be true, but my career depends on me maintaining the ideal. Whether or not I agree with it.”

  “That’s bullshit. You need to do what makes you happy. Fuck their ideal. There is nothing wrong with having curves. You’re too damn thin and the fact that they make you fast before a shoot just pisses me off. It’s not healthy and it won’t happen anymore.”

  Estella’s phone rings, interrupting our conversation. “It’s my stepmother…” She hesitates, takes a steadying breath like she’s about to enter battle, then answers the phone. “Hello.” I can hear Bridgette yelling but can’t make out what she’s saying. I’m guessing it has to do with my cancelling Estella’s appointments for the day. “Mom, it’s okay. Gage didn’t cancel anything; he just rescheduled things.” More yelling from her stepmother ensues. “I know. I’m sorry.” Estella’s eyes fill with sadness and guilt. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes again, but her bitch of a stepmother continues yelling.

  I reach out and pluck the phone from Estella’s hand. “Hello, Mrs. Trenton, consider this a courtesy warning. If you ever speak to your daughter like that again I will ruin you. Without her you would be nothing and it’s time you start treating her with a little respect.”

  She sputters from the other end of the line. “Who is this, her new little bodyguard?” she sneers. “What gives you the right?”

  “Estella is mine. I won’t have you upsetting her.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are? You’re nobody, that’s who. Estella knows her place.” I almost laugh at her weak little jabs. I’m sure she thought she would get to me by pointing out that I’m unworthy of her daughter, but I already know that, and I don’t give a flying fuck. Worthy or not, I’m not giving her up.

  “Estella’s place is by my side.”

  “I don’t even know why you insinuated yourself into her life. She has a perfectly good security team already in place.”

  This time I do laugh. “You mean an old man and a lazy piece of shit who couldn’t find his way out of a wet paper bag? I’m here because Estella is in danger and unlike you, I actually give a fuck if something happens to her.”

  “How dare you! I—” I end the call before she can continue her tirade, then turn the phone off and slip it into my pocket.

  “You alright, princess?”

  “Yeah. I’m used to it. I knew she’d be upset about today.” Estella smiles despite the fact that I can tell she’s still upset about what Bridgette said to her. “I wouldn’t change it for anything, though. Today has been the best day ever.”

  “And it’s not over yet.”

  We finish our dinner, chatting about nothing in particular. The mood has lightened after the ugly phone call from her stepmother and I am thankful. Estella is extremely resilient. Nothing seems to keep her down for long. I pay the check and text our driver to let him know we are ready.

  We barely make it past the door before the paparazzi are snapping pictures and shouting questions.

  “Estella, who is your date?”

  “Does Brent know you’re dating?”

  “Are the rumors true that you’re pregnant? Is that why you skipped out on your photoshoot today?”

  Up until that question, Estella had been clinging to my side and pointedly ignoring their questions. With that one she comes to an abrupt halt. “What?”

  “Is it true that you’re pregnant and that’s really why you and Brent split? Did you cheat on him? Who’s your baby’s father? Is this him?”

  Estella stands frozen just staring as the reporter asks questions rapid fire. “Get the fuck out of the way,” I say, shouldering my way through the crowd. Estella snaps out of whatever trance she was in and quickens her step to keep up with me. The flashbulbs and questions don’t stop until we are safely ensconced in the back of the car.

  “Sorry about that. They always manage to find me whenever I’m out. I should have warned you.”

  “It’s not your fault, princess. Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m used to them asking all kinds of questions. Pregnancy is a new one though…” She worries her lip between her teeth. She won’t say it, but I know that one bothered her. She told me that she hadn’t given away her v-card—her words, not mine—yet because she wanted it to be with someone special.

  “They are just trying to sell magazines. Don’t let it get to you.”

  “I know, you’re right… it’s just… I don’t like the idea of people thinking of me that way. That I would cheat on Brent… that I would get pregnant with some random man’s baby. I’m not that girl. Even if it was a fake relationship for publicity reasons.”

  I can see how much it bothers her, and I’m tempted to go back and strangle the assholes who upset her. It’s intolerable. I have a suspicion that Brent is the ‘source’ that is leaking the ‘truth’ about the end of their fictitious relationship. He’s a manipulative bastard who would do anything to make the headlines. Shaming and tarnishing America’s Sweetheart is the very thing he would do to draw sympathy from the public.

  “No one will believe those lies about you. Brent is an asshole and the world knows it. This will all blow over once he gets bored and moves on to another woman.”

  The hopeful look on Estella’s face is enough to make me feel ten feet tall. I would do anything to shield her from the ugliness that comes with being in the spotlight. I’ll have to settle for reassuring her and being here to keep her safe. A feeling of contentment rushes through me when she rests her head on my shoulder.

  Chapter Seven

  Estella

  We get back to the hotel and I’m beyond relieved to be in the safety of my room. The nonsense with Brent has gotten out of control. I can only imagine my stepmother is happy to have my name surrounded by a scandal. She’s an attention seeker and as long as I’m in the limelight, she’s in the limelight playing the supportive and dutiful mother.

  We are barely in the room when Gage pushes me against the wall and kisses me senseless. I willingly fall into the distraction. I’d much rather be lost in Gage’s arms than dealing with the drama that seems never-ending. Between my stepmother, Brent, and Steve Nelson, I’m tapped out on what I can handle.

  Gage cups my breast, plumping the mound through my clothes, while he kisses a fiery trail down my neck. He nips at my shoulder, then laves the hurt away with his tongue. Every kiss, every lick, every touch makes me want more. I’m greedy for this man and can’t wait a second more to make love to him.

  As if he can read my mind, he swings me up into his arms and carries me to the bedroom. He sets me on my feet and quickly removes my clothes until I’m standing in front of him completely naked. For the first time in my life I feel shy to be undressed in front of another person. It’s silly. Gage has already seen my body, touched me everywhere, yet knowing what is about to happen has me feeling every bit the stereotypical blushing virgin.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, princess.”

&nb
sp; The lustful way he’s looking at me and his words wash away my insecurities. I’ve been told since I was a young girl how beautiful I am, but all of those other times mean absolutely nothing compared to how Gage sees me.

  “Get on the bed and touch your pussy,” he orders. “I want you nice and wet. Get yourself dirty so Daddy can lick you clean.”

  A shiver of excitement has goosebumps rising on my skin and I quickly do as he says. I lie on my back and lightly trail my fingers down my stomach to my pussy. Gage’s eyes are riveted as he undresses. I get more and more excited as his body is revealed. He’s an Adonis. Tall and muscular, he’s built like a football player. Most of the men I’ve been around are built more like a swimmer or runner. Gage is all brawn and hard muscles.

  I circle my clit until the ache grows to the breaking point. My orgasm is close, so when Gage pushes my hand away, denying me my release, I cry out in disappointment. “Remember what Daddy said?” He wants me to remember something when my body is so primed that I could come with one more touch? “Who owns your orgasms?” He cups my pussy, pressing his palm against my clit. He increases the pressure until I’m panting with both pleasure and pain.

  “You do, Daddy.” My words trail off into a moan as he releases the pressure and gently circles my clit with his fingers. “Oh… Daddy,” I moan, stretching out his name. “I’m gonna…”

  “Don’t you dare come.” He lowers his mouth to my pussy and sucks my labia into his mouth then his tongue is drawing wicked circles around my clit, alternating between licking and sucking.

  “Daddy, I can’t… I need…” My body is barely balancing on a tightrope and I can’t fight it. I need to come. I’m ripped from the edge when Gage slaps my breast. The sharp pain to my nipple distracts me from the intense sensations his mouth is evoking. He alternates slapping my breasts until my nipples are aching and I’m writhing. The pain and pleasure once again blur together until I’m begging for more. I beg for more and plead for him to stop; my mind is a confused jumble as Gage expertly plays my body like a finely tuned instrument.