The word slipped out of my mouth in the heat of my weird tantrum. It just happened, and I’m glad because now that dam is broken.
A lot of firsts are going to happen today. And I just caused them. For some reason, I saw my opening and went for it. The moment he suggested we leave the apartment, a part of me panicked.
It’s true I’m unnerved by the concept of stepping outside. The past two weeks have been life-altering. I’ve never been this safe. I’ve never had the freedom to sleep soundly without worrying about someone taking advantage of my unconscious state.
Maybe when I was a child, I slept through the night, but not for about ten years. Not since my breasts started growing and Marcus decided to terrorize me.
I think the reason most of my nightmares revolve around Marcus is that he was the first. The first person to make it clear that a good number of boys and men were fucking pigs who thought they could take from me.
He was the first person to actually take from me. Even though the most he ever did was tweak my nipples every chance he got and show them to his friend, he stole a piece of my innocence. I’m glad he’s dead because if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t need Daddy to hunt him down and kill him. I would do it myself.
There were others after Marcus. Sometimes my tormentors were nothing more than boys in school hallways who looked at me like they wanted to eat me. That alone makes me want to vomit. It makes me very uncomfortable when people let their gazes run up and down my body as if I’m nothing more than an object that exists for them to take and use.
Living with Daddy has helped me clear my head, sleep for more than an hour at a time with both eyes closed, eat nutritious foods, and read, read, read. I’m itching to read every book in the universe.
Daddy is going to take me to the library!
I pretended it was no big deal, but in my head, I was rubbing my hands together, salivating, and jumping for joy. Sure, I’m nervous about stepping out of the building, but my rational self knows no one will harm me while I’m with Daddy. And he would never put me in danger. If he thought Larkin was in Seattle, he would insist I stay safe at home.
I’m pretty proud of my negotiating skills. And I’m more than ready for what I asked for. Sex and spanking.
Daddy sets his hands on either side of my head and holds my gaze. He’s still standing beside the bed. “You think you’re ready for Daddy’s cock, angel?”
I flush. “Yes, Sir.” A flutter stirs in my tummy at the intensity in his eyes. I want this. I’m already breathing heavily, and my panties are damp from the promise of nudity and fucking.
He lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me. We’ve kissed a lot of times, but Daddy rarely lets the kisses go on for longer than a few seconds, as if he’s afraid to take things too far.
He’s not holding back this time. This is not remotely chaste. When his tongue strokes along my lips, I open for him. I love the way he kisses me in an intimate sort of dance that makes me grab his waist. I want him to hover over me. I want to feel the pressure of him against me.
Daddy obliges me, lowering his body. I spread my legs to make room for him and whimper when his cock lodges against my panty-covered pussy. I’m only wearing a dress, and it rose to expose my panties the moment he dropped me on the bed.
I groan when he grinds his erection against my core. I want more, though, so I grab at his shirt and tug it upward. I’ve seen his naked chest before. I’ve leaned against it, too. He doesn’t wear a shirt to bed, so every time I have a nightmare, he rushes to me in shorts.
Daddy isn’t the sort of person who would let me control this narrative, though. He’s not going to lift up and let me remove his shirt until he decides.
By the time Daddy releases my lips, I’m panting and writhing beneath him. The smoldering look in his eyes sends a shiver down my body, and a rush of wetness flows out of me.
When he removes his shirt and tosses it haphazardly to the floor, I swallow. He’s so unbelievably sexy that I find myself licking my lips.
“Is this what you wanted, Little one?” he asks in a deep, gravelly voice.
“For starters,” I say. I let my gaze roam up and down his torso, thinking about all the times I’ve been leered at in the same way I’m looking at him. This is different, though. It’s consensual. That’s a word I’ve heard over and over from Daddy for the last two weeks.
Learning about the kink world has been enlightening. Daddy has drilled into me every day that nothing should ever happen in a D/s dynamic that both parties don’t want.
I know he was worried at first that my past would make it difficult for me to differentiate between inappropriate power exchanges and safe arrangements. It’s never been confusing to me, though. I’ve understood from the beginning that Daddy will never do anything I don’t verbally agree to beforehand.
June and Blade have come over several times. Watching them is mesmerizing and has gone a long way to helping me fully grasp the sort of lifestyle Cannon wants.
It’s fascinating watching June intentionally goad Blade into disciplining her. She’s not the only one who squirms. I wiggle in my seat just watching, and Cannon knows it. I’ve seen the way he looks at me when they’re visiting. He keeps a close eye on me at all times. I know it’s partly to make sure I’m not uncomfortable being present for their interactions, but also so he can judge how I might react in similar situations.
My breath hitches when Daddy unbuttons his jeans and lowers the zipper. I’m surprised and pleased that he’s not going to balk. There’s no way he would take off his pants if he doesn’t intend to make love to me.
The moment he pushes both the denim and his briefs over his cock, letting it pop free, I suck in a breath and hold it. I’ve seen dicks before. They aren’t normally that large.
Cannon’s erection puts any others to shame. Part of me is laughing in the back of my head as I decide some of the boys and men who thought they needed to show me their ugly junk were never going to be able to please a woman with that scrawny shit.
Daddy is all man. I’m not put off or disgusted.
