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I’ll be his slut. His anything.
Just so I can come.
“Please, Daddy, don’t stop, I need to come.”
He’s at the sink, splashing water on his face and he looks up, catching my eye in the mirror.
This is Orion. My Master, my Daddy, a dark man, one in such command of himself and of me, that I’m helpless around him, born to please him. If he lined up a bunch of men and told me to suck their cocks, I would.
That shocks me.
Because I’m not that girl. Except for him.
For him, I’m anything he wants.
“Bad girls don’t get to come. In fact…” He turns, stalks up to me, and grabs my chin and he kisses me in the softest, sweetest, dreamiest kiss imaginable. It’s utterly filthy, a kiss like that in a room like this. And it’s something I know I’ll always crave more of. “In fact, you don’t get to come at all, not until Daddy says so. And if you sneak one in, alone or with someone else, then Daddy will punish you in a way you’ll fucking hate.”
He lifts my face to his.
“Do not be in any situation where there’s another man or a boy. You, your cunt, your mouth, your ass, they’re mine. There’s a car waiting for you outside. Go.”
And I do.
For the next few days or so, it feels like the most delicious game of cat and mouse. I work on designs and art, creating a wild, almost fairy-tale staircase from wood and twigs and some old broken toys from a junk shop that’s meant to lead nowhere or everywhere, I haven’t really decided.
I go out on dates, more than I usually do, which is pretty much zero. I’d normally stay in because I’ve got the brownstone to myself. Harley’s dad’s back from his trip and they’re visiting her grandma.
I go for runs in the park as usual, all the while knowing he’s watching, that somewhere nearby, Orion’s there.
In my head, it’s a hot little game of desires, of me trying to break him and make him jealous enough to come for me. I dress up, I flirt.
And all I get is no Orion.
Then there’s tonight and everything’s flat. The date’s flat. My mood, too. All because Orion isn’t there watching me. So I cut the evening short and head home. An electric shudder passes through me as I approach our apartment and I know I’m not alone.
I take the stairs, my heart wild in my chest, the pressure in the air tightening, thickening with each step.
My hand shakes as I push open the door to my bedroom.
There, in the golden light of the lamp, is Orion.
He’s bigger, stronger, deadlier in the pretty softness of my childhood bedroom.
“Little girl.”
“Daddy,” I breathe.
He looks around. His sweater hangs over a chair, and in his black T-shirt, he looks so damn sexy, the gold of his skin, the tattoos, the muscles, they all make me squeeze my thighs as a rush of wetness hits. Desire swells in my core.
He moves a ringed hand through the air. “A little girl’s room for a little girl.”
There’s a faint hint of distaste in his voice that irks me. “I’m not going to live here forever.”
“Clearly.”
“Go away, Orion.”
He walks toward me, his fingers skimming the lowish neckline of my top. “That’s Daddy to you. Learn some respect.”
