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The last thing I remember before I fall asleep in his arms is him pressing a tender kiss to the side of my forehead.
eight
Layla
It's like a switch has been flipped. Jay is loving and possessive and downright obsessive over me, and I love every second of it. He can't seem to keep his hands off me.
We fall completely into our roles whenever we play. It might not be normal. Hell, I don't know what normal is since Jay is my first everything, but I know what works for us, and I don't care what anyone thinks. Jay is my daddy in the bedroom, and I love being his little girl. Nothing turns us on more.
I don't sleep in my bedroom anymore. Jay promptly moved me into his room, where he sleeps with his arms and legs around me all night. I love it. He’s like my very own blanket of pure man.
Jay fucks me every morning before I go to school. He forbids me to wash his cum out of my pussy, saying he likes the thought of his seed between my legs all day. He says it'll remind me I belong to him when boys hit on me. It’s so hot feeling Jay’s cum leaking out of me, andI'm always soaking wet and ready for round two by the time he picks me up after school.
And he never fails to deliver. Sometimes he has me bounce up and down on his lap like our first time. Other times, he rails me missionary style, grunting and growling over me like a horny bear. And then there are the times he gets me on all fours and pulls my ponytail while he rides me from behind, slapping my ass as he does so.
Sometimes I'm a very good girl, and he rewards me with a “lollipop.” I can’t believe how much I love his salty, musky taste. Jay is so big I can hardly fit the tip in my mouth, but he praises me for my efforts and teaches me how to use my hands to give him blowjobs. I especially love it when he holds me upside down and eats my pussy while I suck on him. I love it when he loses control, cursing and speaking filth while he comes down my throat. It fills me with such a rush of feminine power. I love making my daddy feel good.
But other times, I'm a bad girl on purpose and push him until he drags me over his knee and reddens my bottom until I'm dripping wet. Then he fucks me voraciously until I can't see straight. I might be nearly half his age, but Jay is a vital alpha male. No sooner does he come in me than I’m like a limp rag doll, but his cock is always immediately hard and ready to go again at a moment's notice.
We've even started to take our role-playing outside the bedroom. When we share meals at home, Jay pulls me onto his knee and feeds me. There’s something so intimate about the way he takes care of me. He loves cooking for me and feeding me from his hand while he strokes my hair and rubs my back. He also likes to wash me, so I don't shower alone anymore. No, Jay insists on washing every square inch of my body for me, and I'd be lying if I said I don’t love his fingers gently massaging my head when he washes my hair. He knows exactly how to make me purr like a contented feline.
He hasn't bought me shampoo because he admitted he likes knowing I'm walking around with his scent all over me. It's barbaric and primitive, but it calls to something deep inside me and makes my stomach clench.
When it comes to my cheerleading, Jay is more supportive than my father ever was. He never misses a game. He's always sitting front and center, watching me the entire time. I want to tell all the girls at school he's my boyfriend, but Jay cautions me against it, telling me some people won’t understand our dynamic. I've almost slipped up and called him Daddy in public several times but caught myself in time.
I know Jay is right, and the world won't understand us, but we get each other, and we love the way we play. It works for us, and no one will convince me it's wrong.
Everything is going perfectly. It’s Jay and me in our own world—until the day my father shows up on Jay’s doorstep.
“Doug!” I hear Jay’s shocked voice from where I’m sitting in the living room. Jay and I were cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie.
I'm sure my dad can't hear it, but there's a note of panic in Jay’s voice. I frown, an ominous feeling washing over me.
“Hey, man! Yeah, they let me out early for good behavior. Can you believe it?” He laughs.
Jay invites my father in and enters the living room with a somber look.
“How have you two been getting along?” Dad asks Jay. “She hasn't been giving you too much trouble, has she? I know she can be a handful.”
“She's definitely a handful,” Jay agrees.
I smile at my father and then look at Jay, but he won't meet my eyes. My smile falters.
My dad, oblivious to the tension between Jay and me, opens his arms for a hug. I step into his embrace, feeling like a shitty daughter for thinking my dad came at a bad time. I should be glad he’s out of jail. I am glad he's out of jail.
I’m ashamed of how little I thought about him when he was locked up. I was so wrapped up in Jay, but in my defense, my dad and I haven’t been close since Mom died. He tries to be a good father, but he’s never been there for me the way Jay has.
And now I'm worried my dad showing up will change things between Jay and me, especially with the way Jay is acting right now.
“So, man, I know I've already put you out enough having you watch my daughter while I was locked up, but do you think I could crash here for a day or two until I get Layla and me a new place?”
I blink, and my eyes snap to my father. Of course, he assumes I want to live with him now he's out. I bite my lip and look at Jay, who's studiously avoiding my gaze.
“Of course.” Jay’s voice is flat when he agrees.
My heart drops. Is he not going to fight for us? Is it all over now that my dad is out? Does Jay not plan on telling my dad about us? I'm eighteen, so legally, I can be with whoever I want. I know Jay wants me. I saw how happy he was when it was the two of us in our little bubble, but now he’s breaking my heart.
He knows it, too, because he can't even bear to look at me.
