by Dani Wyatt
It hurts. And Daddy knows it does but it drives his point home. I’ve come to realize, he enjoys bringing me to tears but then equally enjoys kissing them away and making it all better after.
So odd.
But so freakin’ hot.
He’s a mountain of a man in a handmade black suit. He’s Russian, but his English is perfect, something he said his parents insisted upon. They were afraid an accent would hold him back from certain opportunities.
He’s someone I would never have imagined would appeal to me, or me to him, but that day in the greenhouse he won my heart and I can’t explain how right he feels.
I’m wrapped around him like an anchor desperately trying to keep the ship in the harbor as he continues. “You take care of our babies while I’m gone, okay? With any luck I’ll be back tomorrow morning. If not by morning, the next day at the latest. I promise.”
A lot of the plants he has are scattered around the huge house, but the vegetable plants are all in the beautiful aviary off the back of the main great room.
He calls the vegetable plants ‘our babies’ and it hits me in all the feels every time he does.
“Vegetable plants and donkeys are great, Daddybear, but they’re not you. It’s not a family without you.”
“I know, baby, and you know family is everything to me. You are my family now. I’ll never understand anyone that doesn’t put family first. And you are first for me, but I still have to work, because that’s a part of how I take care of you. You know what I always say: loyalty is everything. Never turn your back on family, baby. Never. And I’ll never turn my back on you.”
Every time he does his family-is-the-most-important-thing-ever speech, I battle this ball of guilt deep inside. Knowing that I’m keeping things from him, especially something he holds so dear, tears me up.
But I’m stuck, and I can’t imagine making him angry or losing him, so I keep up my web of lies. I’m praying someday it will all become a non-issue by some stroke of magic.
“I know, Daddybear.” I sigh, trying to find a way to dislodge the niggling guilt, and somehow come to projecting my own secrets onto him. “I just...I wish you would tell me where you’re going. About your work. I want to know, Daddy.” He’s so secretive about so many things that it’s easy to deflect my own secrets. I hate being without him here, hate the thought that there are things in his life that I can’t know, even as I struggle to keep my own life at arm’s length. “I just hate not knowing what goes on in your life when you’re not here.”
Tears start to prick at my lower lids, the truth of that statement hitting me deep. I never minded being alone before him. Now, when he’s gone, I ache. My body. My heart.
I ache.
“I told you I can’t, baby.” His voice is soothing, but it does nothing to calm the rising panic in my gut. “It’s work. Just work. I don’t want any other babygirls but you. You know that. You are my one and my only, okay? So please, don’t worry.”
“So. Not. Fair. You know where I am all the time. What I’m doing. I send you pictures of my day. Of me. I always tell you things.” I pout but release my death grip on his enormous body.
I try to be strong, but deep down it bothers me when he goes. The doubts about why he keeps things from me poke at me in my most insecure moments.
He’s the guy that could have any girl. He’s got that thing.
A swagger.
An unapologetic confidence that pulls you to him. And I see women looking at him whenever we are out. He’s talked a little about his past as far as dating or whatever when I asked. And his best friend, George, has made some remarks as well, here and there, about the kind of guy he was before me.
Seems he was quite the player and I have no idea how I’m ever going to be enough for him. From what I gather, he had several women at once, never loyal to any and never bringing any to his home or into his life.
He spent a lot of years living that life, and in my heart there’s always a bit of doubt whether one girl will ever satisfy him.
I push a smile to my lips and do my best to shake away my insecurities, but they will only go into hiding for a while. I know. I’ve tried.
Stas is fourteen years my senior. His full name is Stanislov Pavlovich, but he goes by Stas, though I only call him Daddy or Daddybear.
Sometimes Sir if I’m in trouble.
But geez, his name, can you get more Russian than that?
But even with such a unique name, he’s not even a blip on the radar anywhere online. I’ve tried to find out more about him, but he’s a ghost in the cyber world.
I even came right out and asked him once if that was his real name. Stupid, but I had to be sure. He provided me his driver’s license and Social Security card without hesitation, so I dropped my inquires.
He looks just like his name, too. His face is beautiful to me. Rugged, showing years of a life that has left its scars and marks. But I’ve never found a man so sexy in all my life.
There’s a restrained power when he’s around me, but when he’s out, doing whatever it is he’s doing, I bet that restraint is gone. And the thought of it gives me chills.
Right from the start, he reminded me of a big, overprotective bear. And so one day I started calling him Daddybear. He loved it, and immediately started calling me Babybear in return.
I run a hand upward through his close-cropped hair. It’s nearly black with just the beginning of a few highlights of silver at his temples. Everything about him is neat and controlled, from the way he dresses, to the way the house is organized and decorated, to the way he keeps himself.
He smells like a dream. It’s confidence and sex and leather, all mixed together into one intoxicating whole, and I can’t get enough. I breathe him in as I settle my head on his chest for a moment, listening to the low beat of his heart.
“Fine.” I manage as he steps back, looking me over from head to toe and back again, making me shiver. “At least I have our babies. The cucumbers were looking particularly cute yesterday morning.”
He smiles. “Yes, you have our babies. And they are lucky to have you. But you have Contessa, too, if you need her. Don’t forget that. She’s here so you won’t be alone.”
I shake my head. “She’s visiting her daughter. Remember?” I see concern in his eyes. It’s not like him to forget something like that.
Contessa is the housekeeper but she’s so much more. She lives in a guesthouse at the far end of the property and she’s been nothing but kind to me since Stas brought me home. He let her know I was moving in, and that I was to be cared for just as she cared for him, and she took him at his word.
I pull my lips to the side. He’s more distracted than usual and I wish I knew how to fix it. “She won’t be back until Thursday, Daddy.”
“You’re right, Babybear. I’m sorry. I forgot.” There is distress in his words.
He is so exacting, so organized. Anyone else would shrug it off, but not him. It causes an uneasy twinge in my gut.
I sense the concern still there, being pushed deep but not disappearing as he steps between my legs again and leans in to brush his lips over my forehead. I feel like it’s as much to settle himself as it is for me, but I’ll take whatever I can get. When he draws back, I see a flash of something in his eyes and it makes me hold my breath.
His hands drop to his belt and he’s released his full erection from his pants before the shiver even finishes coursing through me.
“Jesus, Babybear, what you do to me...” He gives a slight shake of his head and a wince of his own uncontrollable lust, and I’m soaking wet. “I don’t understand it. I’ve never been a man to not be in control of his own cock. But you—fuck, baby—you have ruined me.”
“Daddy...” I half moan as I feel the tip of his cock line up with my opening. I’m near orgasm at the first brush. “Thank you.” My voice thickens as one giant hand comes to grip the base of my neck hard as he pushes himself into my body in one unapologetic motion.
I begin moving
with him automatically, spreading my legs a bit wider to accommodate him. I let my eyes drift to the moon and stars, shining in the darkness, as I relax to let him enter me. Even now, after a couple months of him, it’s a challenge. Even now, when he’s seated inside me fully, I draw a sharp breath at the fullness he creates. The walls of my sex pulse and tug at him as tiny whimpers catch in my throat.
“Babygirl likes that doesn’t she?” His free hand snakes around and his fingertips dig into my ass, pulling me even harder against him and making me gasp. “Taking Daddy all the way. Giving yourself to me.” His voice is deep against my ear and my shoulders quiver as I bring the heels of my feet to press against his flexing ass.
Sultry pleas drip from my lips. He is in complete control of me. Mind, body and soul. And all I need in the world at this moment is to please him.
At his touch, no matter where we are or what we are doing, I turn into a mewling, begging mess for him. He says I’m beautiful even with his cock down my throat and drool dripping from my chin. I have no words to explain how this man makes me feel. Nothing in life prepared me for this.
For him.
“Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good.” He growls the words, a rumble coming from his throat, and when he says these things, when he makes these sounds, I always find myself struggling to hold back the threatening climax.
“Can I cum? Please?” I blurt out, unable to hold it back before he answers.
I twitch and grab onto him, riding out the waves of pleasure as he holds my hips and grinds us together, wringing more from me than I thought possible.
“Baby, you didn’t wait for Daddy to say ‘now’.”
“I’m sorry. I said please.” I pant. “Sometimes I can’t control it. It just comes.” Then I giggle. “No pun intended.”
He smiles as he moves slowly in and out. “I know. It’s okay. I’ll forgive you.”
“Thank you. For that. And for making me cum, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, sweet babygirl.”
He leans in and takes my lips like he’s ravenous and I’m the meal. As we kiss, he speeds his strokes, his hands lowering to grip deep into the flesh of my rear end, controlling my body completely. In electric pulses, he moves us together, apart, together, apart, his breath speeding into mine where our mouths connect.
When we finally break our kiss, his eyes turn dark and fix onto mine, his mouth open and the tension in his forehead telling me he’s close.
I love when he comes. I love watching his face, seeing the release, the deep pleasure there, and knowing I’m the reason.
“I love you, Babybear. I fucking love you.” He grits out as he lets go, then slams himself deep inside me until I see flashes of white light. “Come with me. Please, baby. Come with Daddy. Now.”
His words topple another orgasm from me and we shudder and shake together, holding on to each other like the tide is trying to tear us apart.
We pant and kiss until the waves dissipate, then Daddy withdraws and immediately lifts me off the countertop and pushes me down to my knees in front of him.
“You know what to do.” He orders, one hand on the top of my head as I lean forward and take his wet cock in my hand.
Opening my mouth, I take him inside, tasting us both.
“That’s my girl. Make sure Daddy is good and clean.”
I suck and lick until all of our combined arousal is cleaned and then look up to see him watching me with joy in his eyes.
“That good, Daddy?” I ask, licking my lips.
“So good. So perfect. You were fucking made for me. All of you. We just fit.” He strokes the top of my head. “Now put Daddy back in his pants. I have to go. I’m late.”
I do as he says, then he extends a hand for me to take and helps me to my feet.
He holds my hand as I think about us and say, “You know, most girls wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t understand all of this. But they especially...” I follow him as he steps toward the back door to the garage, gathering the black case he carries everywhere as he goes. “They wouldn’t understand that a man that gives you vegetable plants is way better than a man that gives you flowers.”
“You’re not like most girls.” He turns, takes my face in his hands and kisses me sweetly. The scent of my sex is still on his mouth from when he went down on me earlier. “In fact, you’re not like any other girl. You’re my girl. My Babybear. Now be safe while I’m gone. I’ll set the alarm when I go. If you need me, call or text. If I can’t get back to you, it’s because I’m just busy with something at work. If you really need me, and I don’t return your call or text, you know you can call George. He’s only a mile away and he’ll be here as fast as he can. I mean it, Babybear, if you need anything you call him.”
George is Daddy’s best friend and they work together somehow, though I still don’t have any idea what that work is. He’s quite a bit older than Daddy, and he’s also Russian.
He’s been kind to me, like a grandfather of sorts I guess, especially since I told Daddy I had no family. He’s been in his own way trying to build one around me from the characters in his life. George is my grandfather, Contessa in her own way has become my stand in Grandmother.
All I need now is a mother. Maybe a sister or brother. I can’t imagine who he’d choose to fill those roles, I don’t even know if he has any other friends in his life. But whoever he’d choose as my mother would have to be better than the one I was born with.
I hate that I’ve lied to him about some of the details of my life, but the truth is I don’t see how he will ever find out and I do what I have to do to keep myself safe. Not all families want the best for their own, my life is proof of that.
I play with the collar on his shirt before responding. “Maybe he can come over and stay? I hate being here alone.”
“Sure. I’ll call him from the car and see if he’s available. Have him come over later today if possible and he can stay over.”
I press a half-hearted smile to my lips. Not because I didn’t get what I want. I mean, he gave me what I asked for. But it’s not really what I want. I’ll take what I can get, but what I really want is him, here with me.
“Okay. Thanks.” I puff out a breath through my nose and my gratitude isn’t overflowing with sincerity. My inner brat is kicking rocks and I feel a tantrum brewing just under the surface.
That niggling doubt about where he goes and who he’s really with taps at the inside of my skull yet again, giving me a headache.
“I’ll work on my faerie garden. Finish the mushroom house I’m building. And Romper and Geisha will get all the kisses you’re going to miss.” I poke my tongue out at him for a brief second and immediately I know that wasn’t the right move.
I spend almost as much time with those donkeys as I do with Daddy. They are mini’s and only come up to about my waist.
Outside of Daddy, they are my favorite thing in the world. So fluffy, so cute. They come when I call them just like puppies and even though it drives Contessa crazy, and Daddy tells me I shouldn’t, I bring them in the house with me at least once a week and run the halls with them bouncing and following me everywhere.
“You’re pushing, little one. Daddy has to work, that’s the deal. Those miniature donkeys deserve your affection, but you don’t need to guilt Daddy about taking care of his obligations. Now I can certainly give you a nice red ass before I go, but I’d rather get a kiss and a smile.”
I take a deep breath and nod, lowering my eyes, then feel his hand wrap around my neck, his mouth coming down to meet mine. His hand tightens until he’s in complete control of my breath holding it there until I’m on the edge of consciousness.
He lets my lips go and brings his to my ear. “You like that don’t you? I own your very breath. I own whether you live or die don’t I Babybear? I own all of you.”
I nod, feeling the pressure in my face grow as the blood gathers. My lungs burn but his eyes are trained on mine and I trust him utterly.
“Goodgirl.�
� He mouths releasing my windpipe and connecting us in another kiss, breathing air back into me as my head spins and I still wonder sometimes how things like that light my fire so.
When our kiss is done, he steps to the door before turning to me with eyebrows raised.
“You want me to set the alarm or you want to do it after I leave?”
Panic rises at the thought.
“No, you do it.” I swallow, hoping he won’t make me do it.
“Baby, it’s okay. You know how, you need to stop second guessing yourself. If it goes off, just call the alarm company with the code and it’s not that big of a deal.”
“I know. But you do it this time, okay, Daddybear?” I give him wide eyes and a little pout.
I hate setting the alarm. It’s complicated, and three times I’ve done it wrong, ended up setting off the thing...it blared and nearly broke my eardrums, not the mention the near panic attack it brought on from the sirens that could be heard as far as Cambodia.
I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off and the alarm company ended up calling the police and sending their own private security team to the house.
Twice.
They said if it happens again, they are going to have to charge Daddy a false alarm fee. He told them he didn’t give a shit, but I do. He showed me about a thousand times how to set it, but now I’m so panicked I doubt myself every button I push.
He nods, relenting, then says his usual ‘Goodbye for now’ and he’s through the door, closing it behind him.
A moment later, I hear the growl of a car engine starting up, the mechanical clatter of the garage door, and I know that he’s gone, into the darkness before the dawn, to whatever he does and wherever he goes.
I fight the sick feeling it gives me, imagining he could be lying. He could be with someone else and I would never know.
Surely if he wasn’t doing anything wrong, if it wasn’t another woman but something illegal, he would tell me? We would be able to talk about this secret part of his life and share it. Tackle it together. Isn’t that what couples do?