“Again.”
“I can do this.”
“Again.”
“I can do this,” Alicia shouted.
The race was on between her drive to succeed and the stability of her legs. Atticus urged her on as she strived for just that one inch, encouraging every twitch of her toes. He was proud of each millimeter she gained, the progress she made in confidence and self-esteem. It wasn’t about the distance travelled today—no, today was celebrating her tenacity and her determination.
She made the inch. Barely.
Sweat sheening her face and neck, Alicia was wrecked. Her knees buckled the moment her foot shifted, which told Atticus she’d pushed herself to the absolute limit of her stamina. A hard lesson, but a positive one—she could do whatever she put her fucking mind to, with some encouragement to shove her forward.
Atticus lifted her onto his hip without hesitation. Her head dropped onto his shoulder like an anvil, her breathing short and labored. With his arm secure around her back, he carried her from the office and headed straight for the elevator. “That was perfect, princess. You did amazing.”
“It was two inches,” she mumbled.
“Two inches you couldn’t have done a week ago. Don’t start pushing yourself to the extreme, Alicia. You’ll break yourself long before you get where you want to be.” Att nodded at Sonic as she stepped into the corridor. His staff were getting used to him carting his girl around the offices at certain times of the day. “It’s going to come back to you, but it will take time. You need to eat and rest, build up your strength and these muscles. Fighting for this with an ill-prepared body won’t get you the right results.”
“I just want to get on with it.”
He laughed, not unkindly. “And you’ll be begging for it to stop when we get to D.C. Your new therapist will make you cry, sweat, and curse. PT is like going to hell and asking a demon to whip you harder and harder, only the reward isn’t being stuck bathing in hellfire for eternity.” Reaching the elevator, he pressed the button and stepped inside the moment the doors opened. “The reward is learning to walk again, to gain some independence and get out of that chair. Maybe dropkicking it off a cliff somewhere.”
“Well, you keep leaving it everywhere and hauling me around like this, so maybe someone will steal it and have wheelchair races down your sacred office hallways.”
“Tell you what, when you’re back on your pretty feet, we’ll hold an annual wheelchair race on whatever date the therapist officially relieves you of the damn thing. Deal?”
“For real?”
The door opened again, and Att realized he was so enamored by his princess, he hadn’t felt the elevator ascend. Walking into his home office, he carried her through to the kitchen. “If that’s how you want to celebrate, I’ll make it happen.”
Alicia made a soft sound in her throat, sleepy and content. “One day, Daddy.”
Whenever she called him Daddy in that sweet tone, his heart staked a deeper claim on her. She probably didn’t realize it yet—mainly because he hadn’t told her when she was awake—but he loved her. She was his vision of the future, his dreams, the rest of his life.
Instead of stopping to make her some lunch, Atticus took her to the bedroom. His girl was damn near asleep already as he flipped back the covers on the bed and laid her down. With sure hands, he stripped her down to the skin and trailed his fingertips around the soft swell of her breasts, fully aware of big blue eyes watching him through barely open eyelids.
He watched her face as his fingers moved down over the slight hollow beneath her rib cage, over her dipped stomach. Yes indeed, she’d gained a little weight, he thought in approval. There was more needed, but this was another area where his princess had made significant improvements.
Slowly, he traced a circle around her belly button, his eyebrow arching as her tummy muscles contracted and twitched. Hmm, was someone ticklish by any chance? Chuckling, he wiggled his fingertips across her belly and watched her squirm with great satisfaction.
Oh yes, he could have some fun with this later.
“No tickle, Daddy,” Alicia protested, then squealed as his exploring touch found her ribs. “No tickle!”
“Oh look, someone’s awake,” he teased, bending down to press his lips against that soft, warm skin just above her navel…and blow a raspberry, “and it makes you wiggle so nicely, princess.” Hearing her giggle was a fucking aphrodisiac. His cock swelled behind his zipper to the point of excruciating pain. “How tired are you, Alicia?”
“Asleep! I’m asleep!” she shouted as his lips cruised over her now-heaving midriff, finding a new spot to torment. She laughed like a demented hyena as his fingers and mouth worked together to make her flail madly on the bed. “Please, Daddy, stop it!”
Bracing his left hand on the mattress beside her hip, Atticus shifted position so his lips could keep giving raspberries on her tummy. Seeing as she’d given him a delightful gift in the form of her laughter, his right hand slipped between her slim thighs to offer her a present she couldn’t refuse.
Two digits found the heat and wetness of her pussy, pushing straight in without resistance. Giggles transformed into a shocked moan that shot straight to his balls. She really was treating him with all manner of delicious noises today, God bless her.
Her inner muscles fluttered around his fingers, then clamped down when he curled them against her G-spot. Hers was easy to find, the pads of his fingers pressing lightly on the wrinkled spot until her hips jerked up.
Instead of blowing raspberries, his mouth went to work in a more diabolical fashion. Licking and nipping at her flesh, barely hard enough for the pain to register, he set his tongue and teeth to work on her sensitized skin. His fingers left her G-spot alone for a few moments, thrusting slowly in and out of that blessed heat.
When her pussy made wet noises with every inward push, Atticus smiled against her tummy and rubbed his beard over her skin as an added sensation.
“Daddy. Daddy, please,” Alicia cried, her hands finding his shoulders and latching on for dear life. “Please, please, please!”
Such sweet begging.
“Oh, I’m sorry, princess. I’m interrupting your naptime, aren’t I? Bad Daddy,” he murmured. “Why don’t I just tuck you in and—”
“No!”
It took a hell of a lot of effort to keep a straight face as Alicia locked her fingers into his hair, clutching handfuls to keep him in place. Her pussy mirrored the action, squeezing his fingers as tightly as they could manage. “Don’t be mean, Daddy.”
His rumble of laughter was on the darker side of amused. “Oh, babygirl. Mean would be tying your hands to the headboard, spreading these lovely thighs, and eating your pussy until my tongue goes numb without letting you come.” Lifting his head, he gave her a wicked look. “In fact, Daddy’s feeling hungry.”
The sheer desperation on her face, in her eyes, became almost obsessional. “Daddy…”
“I think I might have a snack to tide me over until dinner.” Careful not to hurt her, Atticus removed his fingers, sucking them clean as Alicia stared at him in a combination of horror and confusion. “I know just what I want.”
Pulling away from her until she relinquished her grip on his hair, he moved around the bed without taking his eyes off her. One hand ran up the inside of her calf, then her thigh, parting her legs to reveal a beautifully swollen pussy, perfectly ripened for his intended purpose.
Her body language altered subtly as he positioned himself between those legs, losing the urgency of an orgasm and gaining an unhealthy fear of what he was going to do. She didn’t have total control over her limbs yet, so she couldn’t use them to block him as he curled his arms around her thighs and settled his broad shoulders beneath them.
Jesus, he could smell her.
“W-What are you doing?”
Normally, if he’d been playing with a sub from Avalon who’d asked that question, he’d have responded with some good-natured ribbing if the moment was a
ppropriate, and the submissive was one whose confidence wouldn’t be knocked.
This wasn’t close to normal, and one wrong word would send Alicia darting back into her shell, not to be seen again for weeks. She didn’t understand crass terms like eating pussy or what it entailed, just like she had no comprehension of the pleasure it could bring her.
Atticus stroked her thighs, looking up the length of her body to find her eyes anxiously assessing everything he was doing. He could almost see her brain figuring out how many things he could do to her, how many ways he could hurt her and abuse her trust. She’d been trained to think like that, which made him so damn angry.
Her parents—and Elliot—had taught her to see the danger in everything. They’d conditioned her into believing her body wasn’t really her own, that letting them touch her and fuck her without her permission made them happy, and their happiness not only became a priority over hers, but guaranteed her safety for a short while.
That made him fucking livid.
When she reached for Mr. Bear, he dropped the humor and got serious in a heartbeat. The bear had become more than just a cuddly toy for a little girl, it was essentially her comfort blanket. Her emotional support bear.
“I’m doing something I enjoy, Lisha. By the time I’m done, so will you. Think of it as a kiss. A long, wet, delicious kiss.” Her thigh muscles quivered as he continued to caress them. “You remember the safewords I gave you, right? They’re yours to use, princess. At any time. Can you give me one now?”
“Y-Yellow.”
He nodded. “Good girl. You’re a good girl, Alicia. Why are you on yellow?”
She turned her head just an inch to the left. “It’s dirty.”
“Babygirl, I can smell you from here and, trust me, there’s nothing dirty about this pretty pussy. I’m looking right at this beautiful pink perfection in front of me, and all I’m thinking about is how badly I want to lick it until you scream.”
Alicia’s swallow was audible. “No teeth? No…biting?”
“Eyes on mine, princess. Come on, look at me,” he coaxed until she glanced at him nervously. “This is just another hurdle, Alicia. We’ve cleared the ones before this, just like we’ll clear the ones that come after. There’s a huge difference between thinking you’re ready for sex after a trauma, and going through with it. That’s why we’re taking small steps. We’ve talked about this before.”
“Connie said I should let you…lead me.”
Thank God for the Mistress, he thought. “She’s a wise woman, princess, but this is your decision. If you don’t want this, all you have to do is tell me. No safeword needed, just say no.”
Now Alicia looked at him properly, misery in her eyes. “But that wouldn’t make you happy.”
Growling, Atticus released her thighs and pushed up from his prone position, climbing off the bed. Leaning over, he took her by the shoulders as she cowered into the mattress, bringing Mr. Bear up between them like a shield. That infuriated him enough to pluck the bear from her hands and plunk it down on the bedside table. “I swear to God, Alicia, if you don’t stop equating sex with my happiness, the thing that will make me happy is spanking your ass red until you learn to put your own pleasure, your own needs, your own goddamn happiness first.”
“I don’t know how else to…I don’t want you to throw me away.”
Honesty. He had asked her for honesty. This was as honest as it could be, and needed to be defused before that insecurity derailed everything they’d been working towards.
Alicia remained in her defensive position, her hands still guarding her face. Atticus didn’t want to guess how many times her father had backhanded her for one reason or another, but he wouldn’t tolerate her believing he would strike her when he’d given her no reason to think he would ever lift a hand to her in anger.
Taking her wrists, he lowered them to her sides. Reaching for the covers, he pulled them over her, then slipped the bear under them into the crook of her arm. “I’ll keep repeating this until you finally listen, Alicia—my happiness, that you’re so focused on, isn’t dependent on how often I use my cock. Yes, I know, bad word,” he said when her eyes widened. “As for throwing you away, it’s impossible. It would hurt worse than digging into my own chest and physically removing my heart. I love you, Alicia. I don’t toss away something I love—I keep it safe and wonder how long I can wait before I can make it mine.”
Her lip quivered. “I am yours.”
“Don’t cry, Lisha. This is a good moment, princess, I promise. Today you’ve learned how to listen to yourself and say no to something you’re not ready for.” Not that she’d said the actual word, but Atticus refused to be the asshole who willfully ignored the voiceless pleas of a frightened submissive. “Now you know who’s in charge, Alicia, and who holds all the power in this relationship. It sure as hell isn’t me.”
She blinked up at him, her lashes wet but her cheeks dry. Christ, he could fall into the blue of her eyes and never find his way out, wasn’t sure he’d want to escape them. He ran his hand over the black fuzz on her head, pleased that it was showing signs of returning, and gave her a soft, loving smile.
Now didn’t seem the right time to tell her about Elliot’s demise, but Atticus understood that her nightmares struck with more savagery after he touched her in a sexual context. They weren’t as severe as he’d anticipated, which was both a relief and a concern—how far down had she packed her memories so that they couldn’t come back in force?
He hoped that a little bit of knowledge might go a long way toward giving her peace.
Setting his hand on her cheek, stroking his thumb over her prominent cheekbone, he sighed quietly and offered what he always asked of her. The truth. “Alicia, I received some news earlier from a contact, news I think you should know.”
A muscle in her throat spasmed as she rasped, “Bad news?”
“I don’t think so.” There were so many ways to say the damn words, and he wanted to find the right ones. “Elliot was working for the woman who took over your parents’ organization. She hired him to torment you because she was having an affair with Abraham, and she was angry that he died.”
Shock dulled those eyes he loved so much. “That…that’s why he did those things to me? Someone paid him to be cruel?”
“Honestly, I’m pretty sure most of that crew was cut from the same cloth, princess, and wore cruelty like a badge of honor. The good thing is, they won’t be hassling you again, any of them. Some friends of mine,” he almost choked on the word in reference to the Russians, “were being harassed by them, so they decided to eliminate the threat. Fable, the organization, Elliot…they’re all gone, Alicia.”
She studied his face so seriously, he thought he could feel them boring into his brain and flipping through his mental files in search of the lie. When she inhaled sharply, obviously realizing he was telling her the truth, he waited for tears that never came. “Dead, gone?”
Atticus nodded warily. “Dead, gone.”
“Not coming back, dead?”
He gave a short laugh, amused by her at the worst time. “Never coming back, never going to touch or scare you again, dead. That part of your life is over, Lisha. The memories will stay with you for the rest of your life, but I’m confident that between us, we can make new ones to replace them.”
Alicia bit her lip. “Did it hurt? Did your friends make them suffer?”
His thoughts flicked back to the big, blond Russian who’d proudly held up Elliot’s head like a spoil of war. The dead man’s face hadn’t been smiling when it died, that was for damn sure. “Yes.”
His princess exhaled slowly, loudly, as an expression he could only describe as peaceful washed over her features. Even her eyes softened, as though the thought of the ones who’d caused her so much pain had died feeling the exact same thing healed some internal wound.
Atticus was well acquainted with that.
“Good.” She didn’t smile, didn’t appear to take any joy from the knowl
edge, but she was certainly comfortable with it. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Leaving her to process it all, he bent to kiss the top of her head. “Sweet dreams, princess.”
Just as he was about to leave the room, Alicia called out, “Daddy.”
He stopped and turned, lifting his eyebrow in silent question. She looked so small in his bed, dwarfed by the size it, and yet he couldn’t imagine her anywhere else but there.
“You didn’t ask me to say it back,” she said quietly. “When you said you loved me, you didn’t ask me to say it back to you.”
“I’m not expecting you to be a trick pony, Alicia. I’m not putting you in a position where you think you have to say it back because I’ve asked you to—you’ll tell me when you’re ready, when you mean it.” He rested his hand on the doorjamb, leaning on it slightly. “You deserve to know you’re loved. My feelings won’t change, so I don’t see the harm in telling you I love you. I’ve waited a long time for you, princess. So long that a few more weeks or months of waiting to hear you say the same isn’t going to kill me.”
Giving the doorframe a light tap, he gave her a stern look. “Now, naptime. Cranky, tired little girls don’t get to color in their book if they refuse to take a nap.”
He was almost over the threshold when she said sharply, “Atticus.”
Everything inside him faltered for a horrible second. It seemed like forever since she’d called him anything but Daddy, which was probably unhealthy, but for some reason, her tone carried a sober edge. This wasn’t Alicia, his princess.
This was Alicia, the adult.
Again, he turned. Muscles tensing, he realized he wasn’t sure what she was about to say, and that made him nervous. He was a man used to being in charge, of controlling as much as he could for everyone’s safety, and this was definitely not in his usual territory…the pretty girl in his bed had wrenched it all out of his grasp.
“I love you, Atticus. I’ve been trying to figure how to tell you since the first time you said it to me, because I’m not the only one who deserves to hear the words and know you’re loved.” The smile she gave him was shy and hesitant. “Before you tell me it’s too soon, you should probably know that I’ve had feelings for you since I met you last year. They’ve only grown stronger since then, and I can’t imagine feeling any other way but this for the rest of my life.”
Walk For Me: Club Avalon Book 4 Page 40