by Measha Stone
He pushed the blouse over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She nibbled on the inside of her cheek as his hands cupped her breasts.
“Bad girls don’t get to have their pussies played with, isn’t that what I said to you before?” His voice came out choked, as though the idea of not fucking her in that moment was as painful to him as to her.
“Yes, Daddy.” She remembered, and she hated that he never let her come if she’d earned a punishment.
“And if I tell you tonight is no different, that tonight I’ll take what I want from your body, fuck you until I come and leave you completely void of any release, what will you do?”
Do? He wouldn’t, couldn’t do that to her. Would he?
“Nothing?” She tried to ignore the sensations his fingers were bringing her while he played with her nipples through the lace of her bra.
“That’s not an answer,” he chided, clearly amused by her worry.
“I’ll let you, I won’t argue,” she said with more confidence. She could try to manipulate him, could maybe steal her own orgasm, or take one later after he’d fallen asleep, but she wouldn’t. No, if Daddy didn’t give it to her, she wouldn’t just take it. She trusted him to give her what she needed, even if it was not what she wanted.
“There’s my good girl.” He slid his fingers into the cups of her bra, pushing them down until her breasts popped free. Taking her nipples between his fingertips, he began rolling them.
Her heart raced, her breath started to become shallow, but she kept her eyes on him.
“I love your tits.” He leaned down and began to suckle her right breast. As he did so, he released her other one and reached behind her, unclasping the bra, dragging the straps down her arms and letting the lacy fabric fall to her feet.
He pulled back, bringing his nose to gently rub hers. “I want you to offer your tits to me, Carissa-girl. Cup them and serve them to me.”
She swallowed. If she had still been wearing her panties, they’d be soaked already.
Cupping her breasts, she pushed them up, holding them steady for him as he brought his mouth back to her chest. “Good girl, feeding Daddy like you’re told.” He suckled the left breast, flicking his tongue over the peaked nipple as he sucked.
He bit down hard and released, moving back to the right breast. She hissed, fisting her hands until she could feel her own nails biting into her flesh as she held her breast to his mouth, rubbing his bottom lip with her nipple.
His grin showed his pleasure. “Do that again,” he ordered while sticking out his tongue. Her clit pulsated, begging for attention, a little touch, a caress—hell, a smack would do, just so long as there was connection.
Ignoring her own wants for the moment, she moved her breast so she was running her nipple up and down his tongue, feeling the roughness of it as she did so. Without warning he closed his mouth over her breast and sucked. Hard. She squealed a little and had to take a small step toward him. She dropped her breasts and steadied herself by holding his shoulders.
When he pulled away from her again, her nipple was wet, the cool air of the room sharpening the peak. He licked his lips. “Get on the bed,” he instructed, undoing his belt.
She scrambled onto the bed on her back, watching him as he pulled the strip of leather this way and that before tugging it free from the loops.
“Spread your legs,” he demanded, holding the belt in one hand. It was already doubled over.
She wanted to protest, to ask what he was going to do, but his eyes told her it would be best for her to be obedient, to express the trust she finally admitted to herself she held for him. Her legs spread apart, her wet pussy now on display to him.
He didn’t strike her as she had anticipated. He draped the belt over her mons and left it there, the leather touching her sensitive, wanting, hungry clit while he stripped out of his clothing.
Damn, he was powerful. His sculpted chest, chiseled abs, all of this physical strength made him a beauty to behold, but it was his concentration on her, his own self-discipline, that made her body ache for his.
He climbed on the bed, never taking his gaze off her as he did so. Lifting the belt from her pussy, he unfolded it. “Hands,” he ordered.
Shaking but obedient, she put out her hands to him. The leather was wrapped around both wrists several times.
“Over your head, now,” he ordered again. His voice was as raw as his expression.
She moved her arms to where he wanted them, and again he shifted on the bed. He worked the small end of the belt through the slats of her headboard and worked the buckle closed, effectively binding her to the bed.
He looked over the length of her, his lips wet and parted, and his cock pressing against her arm. His hard cock.
“Keep being a good girl,” he said in a much softer tone, and trailed his hand along her collarbone. An electric spark ignited when he began to drag his fingers down her body, through the valley between her breasts, down the length of her belly, and stopped right at the spot above her clit.
“Please.” She whispered her plea, but the desperation was there all the same. If he didn’t touch her soon, she would shatter.
His middle finger pressed down on her clit and she arched her hips up to him, unable to stop herself. Completely lost in her own desire. He moved lower until his finger toyed with her entrance, just circling the rim.
“Oh, please!” she begged again, spreading her legs wider.
“Please what, Carissa-girl? Tell me exactly what you want right now.” He wasn’t watching her face, he had his gaze locked on his own hand, her pussy.
“Please put your finger inside of me, two, three, please!” She could hear her own desperation but it didn’t matter. She was desperate. Completely at his service and his whim.
“Remember, I haven’t said you can come. I could toy with you like this, fuck you with my fingers like this—” He thrust two fingers into her pussy, and she moaned at the suddenly full sensation. “I could fuck you like this and never let you come.”
“Yes, I know.” She nodded. He might and he could, she knew that, knew by the determination in his eyes that it could very well be part of her punishment for acting such a brat earlier that she not get to explode with pleasure. But she would be able to bring him his joy. He would have fun playing with her, and he’d find his own fulfillment, and even that, even being used in that way, would bring her a sense of completion.
His fingers continued to work in and out of her while the heel of his palm brushed against her clit.
“You are so beautiful being fucked like this. Tied to your bed, waiting to see if I’ll give you what you want. Wondering if I’m going to stop finger fucking you and instead fuck you with my cock. Wondering if I’ll let you come, or if I’ll leave you wanting.”
“Please.” It was the only word her brain seemed to be able to handle.
He laughed.
“Clean my fingers.” He pulled out of her pussy and brought his glistening fingers to her mouth, shoving them in before she was ready. Licking her own juices from his fingers made her want everything more.
“Good girl.”
He pulled away and moved again on the bed, this time to kneel between her legs.
Again, his fingers touched her sex, pulling her lips apart, almost too far apart, before the fat of his thumb played with her clit.
She nearly shot off the bed with the sharp peak in pleasure and he laughed again.
“I think my girl likes when Daddy’s completely in control. I think you like being tied down and used.”
“Yes!” She clasped her hands together.
He shifted his weight and grasped the base of his cock, pressing the head against her pussy entrance.
“Lift your legs up, onto my shoulders,” he instructed and she did so, moving more quickly than ever before.
With no other words, he thrust into her. The positioning made her tighter for him, made his cock feel impossibly large. The stretch was nearly painful, but ins
tantly brought her to the brink of an orgasm.
He wrapped his arms around her legs, pulling them together and resting her ankles on his left shoulder.
“Oh. God.” She moaned, biting down on her own lip. So full, so impossibly full, and yet still needing more.
He thrust. Hard and unyielding. He wasn’t being soft with her. She didn’t want gentle, she wanted… this. She wanted harsh, and purposeful.
A slap to her ass renewed the fire from her earlier spanking.
A hard thrust, another smack.
“I have you right where I want you. Tied up, ass in the air, and my cock buried in you.” He held tightly to her legs as his cock pounded into her.
“Please! Please, I have to!” She could feel the eruption building.
“Have to what, Carissa-girl? Ask for what you want. Ask for permission.”
“Please! Please, may I come? I have to come, please may I?”
He plowed into her again, growling and nipping at her calf.
“Yes, Carissa girl. Come for me. Come all over my cock, and I want to hear it. I want to hear you scream.” He bit down again on her calf.
She couldn’t have kept her voice down even if there had been a gun to her head. The orgasm robbed her of any coherent thought or action. Her eyes clenched closed, her mouth opened and she screamed. She yelled out with each wave of the powerful release he’d driven her into.
He held tight to her legs and his strokes became more forceful. The bed banged against the wall but she didn’t care. He didn’t seem to, either.
Two more thrusts, and he stilled. His cock felt thicker, filling her more, and then his own orgasm took him away from her. He was lost in his own pleasure, and she was lost in him.
When he came back to reality, he gently parted her legs and brought them down to the mattress. He leaned over her body, pressing his chest to her and kissed her nose, then her lips. A seductive, sensual kiss.
“You can make me break my own rules.” He kissed her again. “But there’s a price for such power, Carissa-girl.”
She looked up at him, feeling the leather starting to bite into her wrists. “What’s that?”
“You don’t own your orgasms anymore. They all belong to me. No more touching yourself without my permission. Not even to pet your pretty pussy. It’s mine and I’m not that good at sharing.”
Another kiss and he went about unbuckling the belt and bringing her arms back to her sides, rubbing them and checking to make sure she was okay.
No touching? At all?
Such a demanding Daddy.
Such a dream.
Chapter 15
Saturdays were meant for sleeping in and spending the day making love to the woman who’d captured your heart.
Except the woman who imprisoned his heart still couldn’t admit how strongly she felt for him. Putting that damn time stamp on their relationship had been stupid. Fucking stupid.
It had been a way for her to ease into the idea of a real relationship, but he hadn’t thought it all the way through. She was warming to him, really coming to trust him and give herself over to him, but still fought against the idea that they could last. That she could be his baby girl for more than just a month.
He cursed himself for allowing it.
So instead of sinking himself into the warmth and wetness of his girl, he stood at his office window, watching the city buzz below.
She was spending the day at the clinic. The regular nurse had an emergency and they needed Carissa to lead a discussion group on healthy children habits, or something like that. He’d been disappointed when she said she couldn’t meet him until the evening, but he understood.
They only had one more week left. Not long enough, especially since her shifts at the hospital were longer this week. She’d taken a few doubles to help out a few co-workers, and the shelter was having a booster day or something and she needed to be there twice to help give flu shots.
He could call off the time stamp.
But he wouldn’t. Forcing her wouldn’t get them anywhere. No, he’d have to wait the next week out and have the conversation. Until then, he needed to stop focusing on the possibility of losing her. How could he lose her?
Instead, he had to focus on his father.
He’d spent the week looking for a new location. Somewhere his father could build his hotel and not have to take down the shelter. But he was being a coward.
An absolute coward.
His father shouldn’t have so much hold on him. He’d worked hard to get out of his grip, but it seemed some small part of him still wanted a connection, wanted his father to at least value him as a son. Shouldn’t the fact that keeping the shelter protected was important to him mean something to his own father? Was money so much more important than his son?
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you in today.” Garrick’s voice pulled Jamison from his thoughts.
“Yeah. Carissa’s going to be at the shelter most of the day, and I should start looking at a new project. Dark Lace wants to expand already. They want to open another club out in the suburbs. The BDSM community is pretty under-serviced out there, so it’s not a bad idea.”
“I heard about that. It might be the perfect thing to really sink ourselves into. You know, not just invest, but actually run.”
“What? You? I thought you wanted to just cash distribution checks.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like Jade working at that ER. I never did. Some of the shit that goes on there during her overnight shifts makes me want to send an armed guard to follow her around. But unless we move out to the burbs, it won’t matter if she switches hospitals. Any hospital she works at in the city will be the same.”
“You’re talking like someone who’s going to get married and start popping out babies.”
“Fuck you.” Garrick laughed and then looked thoughtful. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing, leaving the city.”
“No. It wouldn’t.”
“Carissa still being evasive?”
“She’s as stubborn as you predicted.” Jamison offered a bottle of water to Garrick and opened one for himself.
Garrick had the decency to keep his chuckle low as he dug out his phone. As he swiped his screen, his brow furrowed. “One sec.” He turned his back and put the phone to his ear.
Checking his watch, Jamison reached for his own phone. It was four o’clock. Only a few more hours until Carissa was done at the shelter and would meet him at his place. He wanted to text her, see how her day was going, but he didn’t. She’d be busy and the sooner she finished her work, the sooner he’d get to see her.
“What? No. Absolutely not. She got herself in there, she’ll have to get herself out.” Garrick’s firm voice caught his attention. “I will not and neither will you. I’m serious, Jade, you are not helping. She’ll just have to call Jamison.”
Now his attention was completely grabbed. He didn’t interrupt the call, instead watched his friend’s muscles tense as he started pacing the room.
“If you do anything, it won’t be just a sore ass you’ll get. I’m not kidding.”
A few more words were exchanged and when he finally hung up, Jamison had a good idea of what had happened. “She went to the protest and got herself in trouble,” he stated flatly.
“Arrested. The idiot got herself arrested with about half of the other women down there. It seems they were in front of your father’s building when he arrived. He demanded to see their permit. I guess the organizer wasn’t there yet, and Barron had them all arrested. He came with police, Jamison. He arrived with them right behind him.”
“Of course he did. And did the organizer ever show?”
“She did but they’d already arrested a few dozen women.” Garrick stuck his phone back in his pocket. “According to what the flowerchild told Jade, she’s being charged with disorderly conduct. Since the permit wasn’t on the premises at the time, they can go ahead and charge them.”
Jamison looked at his watch again. “How long ago did
all this happen? The protest was set for one.”
“They showed up early. She was arrested about an hour and half ago.”
He wasn’t sure where to put his anger. At his father for being such a greedy asshole, or his girl for being so damn disobedient.
Since the second was at least someplace where she couldn’t run off and hide, he decided to deal with the bigger fish first.
He found his father at his office building. No protesters were in sight when he crossed the street from the parking garage to his father’s building.
Garrick had left their office to pick up Jade, mostly to keep her from going to Carissa’s aid. They would be going to the police station to talk to Damien, who worked as a detective for that precinct. Carissa wouldn’t be getting out until Jamison got there, but he wanted to be sure she was treated respectfully and safely until Jamison arrived to deal with her.
“Father.” Jamison barged into the office, letting the door bang against the wall and leaving his father’s receptionist standing in the doorway with her mouth gaping open. “What the hell happened? Do you know you had Carissa arrested?”
His father, who had been studying papers on his desk, looked up. He flicked his wrist to dismiss his secretary, who shut the door behind her as she left.
“Yes. I do. In fact, seeing my son’s girlfriend was one of the protesters only convinced me further I was doing the right thing.” He dropped his pen on the desk and stood up. The cool demeanor Jamison recognized from childhood stared back at him, chilled even more. “Do you really think she’s going to stick around with you after this whole thing? She was using you to get to me, Jamison. She wanted you to save her precious shelter.”
Jamison’s hands clenched at his sides, his jaw tightened.
“Neither of us knew about your damn hotel plans until after we were seeing each other.”
“Well, if that’s true, then she is merely using you now.” Barron dismissed the idea of anything real developing between Jamison and Carissa with a slight wave of his hand.