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“Then why are you so concerned with what I eat?” She’s bolder through the video, and I like it because I’m more than happy to demand her compliance and watch her submit every time she questions me.
“Because you’re in my house, you’re my responsibility,” I tell her, not mentioning that having her do as I say turns me the fuck on.
“I’m an adult. I’m more than capable of deciding if I’m hungry and then making myself something to eat.” With each word she says, her bravado starts to fade, and by the time she’s finished speaking, it almost sounds like she’s asking me if she can do what she says she can.
“I’m sure you’re capable,” I tell her. “But while you’re under my roof, I’ll decide for you,” I growl sternly, ensuring she knows that I’m the one in charge, as I squeeze my hard dick and swallow down the guttural groan that fights to burst free.
“That’s…” Her brow furrows, and she trails off, like she can’t quite decide what to say. “Octy thinks you’re a daddy dom,” she blurts, then her eyes go wide, and she slaps her hand over her mouth.
“What the fuck is a daddy dom?” I snarl angrily.
“Forget I said anything, sometimes my filter malfunctions,” she mumbles, her cheeks a fiery red.
“Explain.”
“I really don’t want to,” she squeaks, her hands now spread to cover her entire face.
“Etta, explain.”
“Urgh, god, this is so embarrassing. It’s like a thing…a kink thing, where the dom likes to take care of his sub and sometimes they like to be called daddy.”
“I do not want anyone that isn’t my kid to ever call me daddy,” I growl, unreasonably pissed, but not because she’s asking if I’m a daddy dom. I’m angry at the thought that she might have had that kind of relationship with someone else in the past.
“Good, that’s good. Octy thinks it’s hot, but…oh my god, I can’t believe we’re even talking about this.”
“I’m not a fucking dom.”
“Okay, cool,” she says, nodding, still hiding behind her hands.
“Move your hands.”
“No, thank you,” she whispers.
“Etta, now.” I add a bit more demand to my tone, and she slowly slides her hands down until her face is revealed. Her cheeks are pink, and she’s cringing adorably.
“I’m sorry,” she says in an embarrassed wince.
“Is that what you’re into?”
“What?” Her voice is so shrill, I cringe away from the sound.
“Is that what you’re into? Have you been in a relationship with a…daddy dom in the past?” I cannot believe I’m asking this. I do not want to know about the guys she’s fucked. I can barely cope with knowing that I want to fuck her. I really don’t need to think about her with other guys.
“What? No. Never. Octy and I read this book…well, books, and they had daddy doms in them, and now she keeps going on about it and…oh my god.” Pulling in a sharp breath, she clamps her lips together, then shakes her head. “No.”
“Okay, because that’s not me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Tell me what you are into.” This is a fucking red-flag conversation. I absolutely should not be asking this woman what she likes sexually, but I can’t fucking help myself. I want to know everything about her, including what turns her on.
“I’m…no. We shouldn’t be having this conversation. We don’t like each other.”
“We didn’t like each other as kids, we don’t know each other now. So let’s get to know each other,” I drawl, adding a little charm to my request.
“I don’t?—”
I cut her off before she can say no. I don’t want to hear her tell me no or that this is a stupid idea. I’m well aware of how messed up all of this is, but I still want to know. I want to understand every one of her thoughts, wants, and desires so I know exactly how I can give her everything she needs. “Did you like it when I kissed you?”
