Despite everything, a laugh slipped out.
Yes, Daddy.
Good girl.
We’ll finish this tonight.
And later this week,
when I’m not trapped in meetings,
lie on your bed and show Daddy exactly how wet his rules make you.
I set the phone down on the duvet and pressed my palms over my burning face.
23
Vince
Harlan was too damn far.
That’s all I kept thinking as I sat on the edge of my bed, the whole city stretched out below me like a kingdom I suddenly didn’t give a shit about. Villain pulsed and bled neon — but none of it mattered when she wasn’t here.
Madeline being in another city made the whole penthouse feel like a punishment cell.
Her folder was open on my datapad. The week’s photos. The morning sets she sent me like clockwork because Daddy wanted proof she listened. Seven photos. Seven little confirmations of obedience.
I opened today’s again.
Black satin panties. She’d angled the camera down from just under her ribs. Two fingers hooked in the waistband, tugging it down the slightest inch like she knew damn well what that did to me.
My cock was already hard. The black satin panties were pulled just low enough to show the soft line of her pussy, and I stroked myself slow, thumb spreading the precome over the head.
My perfect sub. Quiet little tease.
She shouldn’t be in Harlan.
She should be in my bed, under my hands. I scrolled. More photos. Pink lace, that showed her nipples. That day, all I pictured was my mouth on them.
Soft blue satin. Wednesday’s red set, I stopped there, teeth clenching. She had pressed her thighs together like she was shy, but she still sent it. Still wanting Daddy’s praise.
The phone buzzed. Her name on the screen. Fucking finally. Good girl. I answered immediately. “Baby, you’re late.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. Meetings went long. I just got back.”
That voice.Fuck.
“What are you wearing.”
A tiny inhale. “The tomorrow set.”
Of course she was.
My breath left me. I leaned back against the headboard, legs spread wider, palm sliding slow over myself.
“Fuck. Baby. You make me so proud when you listen.”
Another breath on her end, the kind that meant she was already wet from just hearing praise. My baby, loves praise and possession. She always responded. And it fuelled my tendencies.
