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After placing a towel on the counter, he hefted me up by my waist, so I sat on the edge.
Flicking on the lights over the mirrors over the sink, Tyler went over to the tub and fiddled with it for a moment before the sound of rushing water began to echo in the bathroom. He checked the water a couple times while I sat on the edge of the vanity, oddly content to just sit there and swing my heels while he opened a small closet and sorted through some jars on the shelf. As he did that, I toed my shoes off and stretched out my feet, then resumed swinging my legs while he added some teal liquid to the bath.
Leaving the bottle on the edge of the large white tub, he returned to where he’d left me, his expression intent and his gaze serious as he pinned me in place with his will.
I didn’t resist him at all while he doctored my neck, too busy watching him work in the mirrors. The silence between us was comfortable, and I was as relaxed as I could get while he disinfected my scrape. For such a big man, he was very gentle as he cared for me, and I luxuriated in his attention. A fragile trust had taken root within me, a careful hope that he was different.
That this was different.
I waited for the onslaught of bad memories, but none came as Tyler said, “Raise your arms. You, my dirty little princess, need a bath.”
As he slid the fabric of my shirt over my body, I marveled at the easy mental switch I made into a more submissive mindset around him. It wasn’t forced—in fact, letting him take care of me was the most natural thing in the world. Allowing him to lead, giving him the control was freeing to me in a way I’d never experienced, but always dreamed of. A little shiver of pleasure raced through me as he reached behind my back and unhooked my bra.
I lifted my arms a little, so he could slide the navy blue bra with its pretty raspberry lace off me. I’d been hoping he’d see it tonight, but not quite like this. He made an appreciative, male sound in the back of his throat that had my already hard nipples tightening further. The bathroom wasn’t cold—actually, it was filling with a warm fragrant steam—but I still got goosebumps as he made that noise again. He was such a complex man, so many layers and facets that I couldn’t imagine ever getting bored with him.
I could tell he was battling for control, trying to be the Daddy and not the Beast that wanted to ravage me.
A dangerous thrill went through me as I slowly licked my finger, then ran it over the sensitive tip of my breast, watching him as I did it.
But instead of lunging at me like I wanted, he closed his eyes and did his deep breathing thing before saying, “Little girl, you are about to be in a world of hurt if you don’t get that tight little ass of yours in the bathtub in ten seconds.”
My whole body heated as the tension between us increased, as did the size of the erection he had pressing against his shorts.
“What?” I asked in a teasing voice. I continued to toy with my nipple, my panties positively soaked by this point. “Are you going to spank me?”
My words seemed to strangely calm. His gaze narrowed as he said, “No, I won’t spank you. What I will do is jerk off in front of you and not let you touch me. I’ll come on the floor instead of in your mouth. Now, get in that bathtub, or I swear to God, I’m pulling my dick out and you’ll get none of my cum.”
A surge of lust swam through me, and I hopped off the counter. “Yes, Daddy.”
That dirty, illicit thrill went right to my clit as I quickly stripped down, giving my booty a little wiggle before I tested the water with my foot.
“Too hot?” Tyler asked from right behind me.
“No,” I said, sinking my leg in and resisting the urge to watch him. Instead, I gave him a little show as I slowly sank into the water. “It’s perfect.”
There were enough bubbles that I felt covered, but being nude in front of him had never been an issue for me. From the start, I’d felt comfortable with him. Maybe it was his experience, or maybe it was me, but it felt totally natural to be naked around him. When Tyler stripped off his shirt, my mouth went dry at the sight of all those bulging, tanned, thick muscles. You could tell he was a swimmer from how broad his shoulders were, and his deliciously solid thighs that were still hidden by his damn shorts.
