Page 45 of Dark Holiday

* * *

Cynthia

The feral look of need and desire that flashes across his face as he slides down a bit further stops my breath for several moments. His hands are back on my thighs, pushing this ridiculous gown up. The only reason I wore it is because it looked so much like that dress from that night. I was praying whoever I ended up with would just destroy it, setting those memories free. It’s even better that it’s Daniel.

His lips skim up my inner thighs, pausing at my lips. Please don’t stop now. Please. Just let me get off. Instead of listening to my inner plea, he grabs me by the waist and flips me over before gripping the hem of the dress and tugging. The wrenching sound as he tears at the fabric is almost as good as the impending orgasm. Almost.

“As long as you’re mine, you will never wear another dress like this again. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I giggle, unable to keep the unfettered joy from escaping. “Can we maybe burn this one?” Turning as best I can, I look up at his face. The thoughtful frown tells me he’s considering it.

“Not here, but this dress most definitely needs to burn.” He attacks the rest of the dress, ripping here, tugging there until I’m naked before him. I chose to wear nothing under this dress tonight except the panties he bought for me - the ones he came in. As much as I wanted to get rid of them, I couldn’t. I soaked them until every trace of his essence was gone but still kept them. They lay discarded by the side, and I wonder if he even realizes which pair they are.

His strong hands grab at my waist, pulling me up onto my hands and knees. “Cynthia Anne Lewis, I am officially asking you to be mine. We may have settled some things tonight, but I know there’s still a lot of hurt and mistrust to work through. On both sides. But I’m willing to try if you are.”

Can I really do this? Can I trust him not to hurt me again? His fingers are warm against my skin. So real. What if I wake up and all of this is just some dream? Daniel rocks a bit closer, sliding the thick ridge of his cock along my backside. “Daniel Anthony Grinwich, I’ll be yours only if you promise to be mine.”

“Done,” he growls, pushing the top half of me forward until my face brushes against the rug. His magical fingers skim along my hips in a soft, almost reverent motion, as if he’s memorizing me. Perhaps he’s battling the same demons and fears as I am.

It doesn’t last long. Soon, he’s much lower, attacking somewhere much more sensitive. His breath is hot against my skin as he slides his tongue along my lower lips. Moaning, I grind into him only to have him pull away. “Oh no, little minx. You’re not in charge here. I was planning on waiting until after I fucked your brains out, but I guess now’s a good time to go over the rules.”

I can’t help the pained whine that escapes my lips as he straightens up next to me. “Do you remember the rules I gave you at work?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Let’s hear them then.”

Daniel rests his hand on top of my upturned ass. “I am to be presentable at all times.”

Smack.

“Good girl.”

“No slutting it up at the office?”

Smack.

“Especially now that you’re officially mine. I don’t want another man even looking in your direction.”

Giggling, I give him a sassy pout. “I can’t control what other people do.”

“No. You certainly can’t. Tell you what. For every time another man looks at you with lust in his eyes, I get to take it out on your delectable derriere.”

I sigh, pretending to think about it. “I guess. Anything to get me spanked, right?”

“Are you telling me, little girl, that you like Daddy’s hand on your ass?”

Whimpering, I wiggle my butt at him, desperate to have contact, any contact. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Hmmm. Such a greedy, little girl.” Each word is punctuated with another smack as he alternates each cheek. “I say we add to this list of mine, shall we? You will always be honest with me. We will not be able to move forward without this. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.” The tears begin to flow again, but not from sadness, but from finally feeling whole, complete.

“You will consult with me on all your purchases. I know you struggle with money, and I know how much you owe. Consider this your get out of jail free card. I will not bail you out again.”

“How-?”

“You think just because I left, I actually stopped caring about you? Worrying over you?” I should feel invaded by his knowledge, but somehow, I feel looked after, cared for. “Every Monday will be Waffle Monday,” he continues, his voice soft and thick with emotion.