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We should probably talk more. He should tell me his name, and I’m sure there are important relationship things to address.
The deep throb of lust between my legs commands my attention, though. Everything else feels like an afterthought to be figured out later.
“What did I tell you you’d be allowed to call me when we met face-to-face?” His voice sends ripples of arousal through me, dampening the thin lace of the dark green panties under my festive red skirt.
“Daddy?” The instant the word leaves my lips, it feels as though all the big scary parts of life melt away. The pressure of making decisions and being responsible vanishes like the puffs of smoke that dissipate after the explosion of fireworks.
“And what did I tell you I’d do for you?” His hand moves to adjust the bulge that’s unmistakable behind the dark wool of his slacks.
“Take care of everything for me. Provide for me. B-be my daddy.” My feet shuffle me closer to him without conscious direction. Like he’s the North Pole and I’m a compass needle trying to get home.
“What else did I promise you, baby doll?” For every step I take forward, he moves back. Until he’s able to sink down into a chair placed next to a cozily burning fireplace. I look back to the front door, glad I’d thought to close it behind me.
“Don’t worry about the door. Taking care of you means keeping you safe, too. The door lock engages automatically. This building is the safest place in town as it is, and my home is safer still. Now, answer Daddy.”
“Y-you said you’d punish me if I didn’t obey.”
ChapterEleven
Eco
I’m a bastard for grabbing the unexpected blessing in my living room and running with it. If I was the honorable man I’ve always tried to shed my upbringing and be, I would. My feelings for Greer surpass decency and honor. In truth, I left valor behind when I boughtFet-asticand put her under contract to be mine.
“Is that why you’re here, little doll? To be punished for not obeying like a good girl?” Fuck, the filth that she pulls from me comes so readily.
I recline back into the cushion of my chair and pat my knee, wondering if she’ll continue the game. Her slender body perched on my thigh is the first contact between us. The moment scorches into my memories.
“I’ll do whatever it takes, Santa Daddy. I just gotta get my name on the good girl list this year. I can’t be naughty before Christmas, or I won’t get my wish.” Girlish and sweet sounding, the words nevertheless have precum slicking from the tip of my cock where it throbs beneath her ass.
“I think that can be arranged. If you’re a very good girl and let Santa clear away all your naughtiness, you’ll get everything you wish for under the tree this year.”
“All my naughties? But Santa Daddy, what if there’s lots and lots of naughties in me?” Her little feet kick back and forth, too far from the floor for her toes to gain purchase. Every swing of her foot jostles her over my aching member.
Her eyes gleam with knowing. A secret smile on her lips.
“You’ll have to be an extra special good girl for me then, and let me make sure we get every last one of them dealt with. Think you can be my good girl and handle that?”
She curls against me and presses her face into my neck. For the first time since she walked through the door, I remember the monstrous scar that cuts through my face. Rough patches of scar tissue were left along the side of my throat from hot shrapnel blasting into me.
Her lips brush over the sensitive skin around each scarred ridge, and I feel her tongue dart out to lick along my jawline. The gentle way she laps at the most vulnerable parts of me has my heart swelling more than my cock.
“If you’re serious about getting off the naughty list, stand up and drop your panties. Daddy’s going to spank that wicked backside of yours.”
Greer doesn’t ask any questions, doesn’t argue. She just hops off my leg and stands between my knees to shimmy her panties down her legs. The instant the dark green lace hits the floor, I tip her over my thigh and clamp my legs together to hold her in place. Her torso drapes over my lap and the arm of my oversized chair, but I check to make sure she has enough support.
When she’s comfortable, I capture her wrists at the small of her back in one hand. I don’t want her trying moving and accidentally getting struck while I’m spanking her. I flip the soft velvet skirt, brief as it is, over her pert backside.
“I look forward to turning this ass as cherry red as your skirt, baby doll. I hope you’re ready.” I pause in case she wants to stop. We haven’t taken the time to discuss safe words or limits, so tonight I’ll be careful to go easy on her and stop the instant she needs me to.
“I’m ready, Daddy.” She’s dropped the Santa roleplay, but that’s not important. From the moment she asked if she could call me daddy, the need to fill that role for her for real has grown inside me. Simply controlling her sexually and providing for her monetarily is no longer enough.
I need to be this girl’s caretaker for real. To be the one she runs to when she needs things, whether they’re emotional or tangible. To support her goals and dreams and make sure she achieves everything she sets out to do. I need to be the center of her world, because she’s the center of my whole damn universe.
But first, I need to be the one who commands her pleasure. I check my grip on her wrists, making sure she’s secure. When I’m satisfied she’s ready, my palm cracks down on the fleshy curve of her backside. Back and forth, from one cheek to the other, along each round globe and down to her sit spots, not an inch of her ass is spared from my hand.
Her wiggles and gasps become a strangled moan as I slip my fingers between her crack to where her molten core tells me she’s thoroughly enjoying her spanking. I push my index finger all the way between her folds to the swollen nub at her apex and roll the callused pad over it in tight circles.
“Daddy, Daddy!” Her squeal is lyrical, the sound of her wetness sucking at my fingers, the chorus of this carol heralding our celebration of finding one another.
