He returns with two mugs, hands me one that smells of hazelnut, my favorite creamer, and sits across from me. Not beside me, where our knees would be touching, but giving me space to think, to breathe, to choose and speak my truth.
“I've been thinking about what you said,” he begins, cradling his own mug. “About wanting what those characters in your books have.”
My cheeks warm. “And?”
“And I need to know if you understand what that actually means. Beyond the fantasy and the romance novel version. Real life and fiction aren’t exactly the same thing.”
I take a sip of coffee, buying time. “Try me.”
His dark eyes hold mine as he answers the dare. “To me, being a Daddy means structure. The rules exist for your benefit and mine. It means I make decisions about your safety and wellbeing that you might not always agree with in the moment. It means surrendering control to me and trusting I’ll take care of you.”
I nod slowly, listening. So far, everything he’s said aligns with what I’ve read, what I’ve researched. But even more so, what I experienced. I’ve been a little before, once in a relationship. His fears aren’t unfounded, I ran away when the playtime collided with real life. I wasn’t ready then, I am now.
“It means consequences when those rules are broken. Not because I want to punish you, but because discipline is how you learn. Discipline should, if done right, make you feel cared for and help reassure you that I am paying attention.”
My breath catches slightly and I shift on the couch. Talking about discipline should not turn me on… but here we are.
“And it means trust,” he continues quietly. “Complete trust. You trust me to have your best interests at heart and know I will never harm you. I trust you to be honest about what you need, even when it's uncomfortable.”
“You are wanting me to know exactly what I’ll get if we enter a relationship,” I say, understanding what he is doing. He’s laying it all out because he thinks I’ll run, or he thinks I’m naïve to how a Daddy Dom little girl relationship works.
He sets his mug down and leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Yes, Madi. I’m laying out exactly what you’ll get if we move toward forever. You will get a Daddy who sees you—really sees you—and takes responsibility for your wellbeing. A Daddy who makes sure you eat, sleep, and don't burn yourself out trying to please everyone else and forgetting about your own needs. And most importantly? You’ll get a Daddy who gives you permission to let go of all control because he's holding it for you. You can be free to be who you are with no judgement, no holds barred.”
His voice drops lower.
“I’m a protective Daddy, I’ll guide you, yes, but with me you will also get an abundance of praise when you're good and consistent correction when you're not. You get a Daddy whoseentire purpose is making sure you thrive, not just survive this life we live. I will always push you to be your best self and be here as a soft landing spot when you fall.”
My throat tightens with emotion.
“And you get a partner,” he finishes. “Not just a Daddy. Someone who will build a life with you, not just scene with you.”
“That sounds...,” I manage. I can’t find the word, instead I open and close my mouth and stare at him. It sounds pretty fucking perfect but somehow, I know I shouldn’t say those words out loud.
“And if that's not what you want? If you need something lighter or different, then I need to know now. Before we go any further.”
I set my own mug aside, hands shaking slightly. “What do you want?”
His jaw tightens. “I want to take care of you, Madison. In every way. I want to be the person you run to when things are hard. I want to be the man who makes sure you're okay when you're too busy taking care of everyone else to take care of yourself. I want to set boundaries that keep you safe, even when you fight me on them. I want to praise you when you're good and discipline you when you're not. I want to watch you flourish under structure and care. I want to be your Daddy, if you'll let me.”
The word lands like a lightning strike.
“I know it sounds like we’re moving fast and really, we are, but when two souls recognize each other, as my abuela would say, you know. And I know. I want you to be mine. My little girl and my partner.”
“And what if I mess up?” I whisper.
“Then we talk about it. We figure out why. And if correction is needed, it's done with love and intention. Never anger. I willnever harm you. My palm on your ass might make it hurt a bit, but it’ll always be controlled and you will have a safeword.”
“Have you done this before? With someone else?”
He sits back down, closer this time. “Yes. I've had relationships with power exchange. With dominance and submission. But I've never felt this... pull. This need to protect and provide for someone the way I do with you. With you it’s different.”
“I’ve been in one before, but it wasn’t quite right. It was more roleplay, less lifestyle. I’ve always wanted the lifestyle. He could be dominant in the bedroom but nowhere else. So, it sounds like, this time, we'd be figuring it out together.”
“Yes, but that’s how all relationships are, I think. If we go into it with honesty, patience and very clear communication, I think we will be just fine. I think the biggest hurdle in many relationships is expectations. Not clearly communicated and left unmet. If we are on the same page from day one, which is why I brought you here, I know we can make this work.”
I look at him, the man who could probably break someone in half but who's sitting here, vulnerable and open, offering me something I didn't think I would ever find again, not in real life.
“I want to try,” I say.
