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I’d barely sat down at my desk and taken a sip of my coffee before my calendar pinged with an alert. I lifted my gaze to the computer screen with a groan.
I’d forgotten about that.
When I’d first arrived here, I’d set up a gathering for the richest and most upstanding members of the upper class in the surrounding areas. The whole thing was meant to garner sponsors and donations for my potential run for office, but I’d planned the whole thing before Cami and I had gotten together.
I knew the kind of people they were. I’d worked with them my whole life and I knew how they would react to seeing a young woman like Cami with me. They’d see a rich man in his early thirties with a nineteen-year-old woman on his arm. They would gossip, calling me a cradle robber or worse, a dirty old man, but that wouldn’t be anything compared to what they would say about her.
In their eyes, she’d be labeled a whore and when someone ultimately found out about her past, she’d be called a gold digger. They’d use all the names in the book to insult her and I couldn’t stand for that. It would be even worse if they knew she lived here with me too and had been doing so for weeks now.
I wanted to protect her.
I pinched the bridge of my nose as I tried to figure out my next move. I cared for her immensely, but I’d also moved here with the full intention of making a name for myself in the political sphere. My company was solid, and I’d be making royalties for years based off the software I’d coded myself. I could bridge out to a few more sectors, but there wasn’t too much more room for growth.
I wanted to be more involved in the political sector though, to make changes that affected more things than just a simple fix of a code.
I couldn’t do that with a scandal over my head, not to mention it would probably end up hurting Cami in the process.
In the end, I could only think of one potential solution. I’d have to keep Cami hidden from the public until the time was right and I had enough power that I could shield her from the gossips of the world as much as I could.
With a sigh, I took another sip of coffee and started to finalize the timeline of the gathering. I ordered high-end catering and made sure to book one of the top-tier open bar servicers in the area. I didn’t exactly need money to run for office but getting the support of the biggest influences in the area would be necessary to my success and in my experience, open bars were one of the best ways to do that. Open wallets and bids for support always seemed easier to come by when loosened with some top-shelf liquor.
I worked until about ten o’clock that morning, which was usually the time that Cami would emerge from our bedroom. Like clockwork, there was a gentle knock on the door, and I smiled when I called for her to open it.
“Morning, Daddy,” she said softly, and I pushed back my chair and grabbed my empty mug.
“Morning, little girl. What do you want for breakfast today?” I asked, enjoying the way her face lit up.
“Pancakes,” she said excitedly.
“You had pancakes yesterday,” I chided her jokingly and she stuck out her tongue in response. I lifted my chin and pretended to give her a stern look, to which she scuttled out the door with me close at her heels.
“So what? I like pancakes,” she sassed, and I walked a little bit faster. I had no intentions of catching her, but I did like to keep her on her toes because I knew that excited her immensely.
Adorably, she moved her hands behind her back and covered her backside as she skidded into the kitchen, after which she practically dove into her seat at the table. I stood for a moment with my arms crossed over my chest and simply studied her, which made her fidget in her seat even more. Eventually I sat down next to her, and she watched me warily.
“What kind of pancakes, Cami-girl?” I finally said and she sighed in relief.
“The bananas foster kind with that special whipped cream,” she stated with a grin.
“I really do spoil you too much sometimes,” I sighed, but I typed a quick text to my chef anyway.
“But they’re so tasty!” she exclaimed, and I smirked back at her.
“I know. But they’re full of so much sugar, aren’t they, naughty girl?” I scolded her and she made a face at me.
“Breakfast of champions in my book,” she replied, the feisty little thing.
“To be honest, I ordered myself a plate too,” I admitted to her and the look of victory on her face was comical.
“And here you are, busting my balls when you like them just as much as I do,” she sassed and stuck out her tongue.
“Careful, little girl. Stick out that tongue one more time and I’ll put it to better use,” I chided, and she blushed beautifully at my wicked suggestion. When I stood up, she looked a little bit more flustered, likely thinking that I was going to make good on my threat right then and there, but I was only getting up to make us both a cup of coffee. I peeked back at her with a wink, and she stuck her tongue out at me again.
I used my espresso machine to make us both a vanilla latte. When I was done, I set her cup in front of her with a smile.
“Oh, fancy,” she grinned. She took a sip and licked her lips. “This one is perfect. You’re getting so good at that,” she added before she took another sip.
After she’d told me that she’d never had anything fancier than black coffee with flavored creamer, I’d bought an espresso machine so that I could introduce her to all the different types of fancy coffee in the world. So far, she’d liked everything that I’d made her, even the cups that I’d thought weren’t particularly great in my book.
Either she actually liked them all, or she was just being nice.
“I think this one is my favorite so far,” she murmured after taking another sip.
“I’m glad,” I answered with a smile. “Listen, Cami, I’ve got an event happening here on Saturday night. It’s a pretty important work function for me so it would be easier for me to focus on what I need to focus on without you here. I can send you somewhere or you could hang out in your old room; it’s up to you, sweetheart,” I explained.
She stared at me for several moments with a confused look on her face, before she turned back to her coffee and stared down into it.
“You want me to make myself scarce, you mean,” she said softly.
“Only for a little while,” I smiled.
She looked up at me and her expression faltered for a second, but she covered it up quickly with a smile.
“Yeah, that’s no problem,” she replied. She looked back down at her coffee and took another sip. I studied her for a second, but the door creaked open and the chef walked in with our breakfast. She was quiet for several long moments, but she squealed with excitement at the sight of her favorite breakfast.
Whenever I gave her the option to choose her own breakfast, she was a creature of habit. Sometimes she would switch it up and order French toast or a Belgian waffle, but this was her favorite. I didn’t really care what she ate, to be honest. When I’d first found her, she’d been so skinny, and her face had been more than a little gaunt, so I wanted her to eat whatever she wanted.
Since then, she had gained some weight and her skin had taken on a healthy glow that made her more beautiful than ever. I watched as she dug into her plate, relishing how her appetite had improved since that day weeks ago when I’d found her sleeping in the bedroom upstairs.
My phone rang and I sighed when I looked at it.
“I’m sorry, little girl. I must take this. There’s some paperwork emergency involving taxes and audits and some other boring nonsense. I promise I’ll make it up to you at dinner tonight,” I muttered.
“Okay. Good luck,” she smiled, and I picked up my phone to listen to the panicked executive on the other line. I mouthed another apology her way, grabbed my plate, balanced my phone on my shoulder, and made my way out of the room.
I spent the rest of the day holed up in my office, fielding one call after another, solving problems left and right. Eventually, the offices closed on the west coast, and I was able to steal away for a sweet romantic dinner with Cami before bed. After the meal, I tucked her in bed and went right back to work, preparing what seemed like an endless stream of documents to satisfy the problems at hand.
For the next several days, I drowned in paperwork, filing one tax form after the next. I had to field a number of group calls along with it. From sunup to well after sundown, my entire existence became one endless work cycle.
I barely had any time with Cami and that made me grumpier with each passing day. By the time Saturday morning came around, I was exhausted. I slept in later than I wanted to, and I kicked myself for it because I had wanted to take my time with Cami in the shower. I had another scheduled meeting, so I had to rush in and out. I kissed her on the forehead with a quick apology before I slipped into a suit and made my way back into my office.
Before I knew it, breakfast had come and gone. Cami knocked on my door to bring me a bagel with cream cheese. She went to put it down on my desk and I muted my call for a minute and called her over.
“I’m sorry, Cami-girl. I know I’ve been busy this week, but I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I just need to get through tonight. Tomorrow morning, I’m all yours. I promise,” I implored her, and she kissed my cheek.
“I understand, Daddy,” she murmured. I watched her walk out of the office, wishing the night was over and it was Sunday already. I went back to my mountain of work, piecing through it and finalizing everything for the gathering later that night.
When five o’clock rolled around, I groaned openly. I got up from my desk and slipped on the nicest suit I owned. I looked at the door, wanting to call Cami in so that I had her opinion on which tie would be best and then have her tie it for me because that always made her smile with such joy, but there wasn’t time. Instead, I settled on the closest one, a silver-gray pattern. I looped it underneath my neck and knotted it quickly. I folded my collar back down and put on a simple, but expensive pair of cufflinks before I left to go direct the setup of multiple groups in the banquet hall.
When I arrived, most of it was already done. The guests were due to arrive at around 6:30 p.m., so I had ample time to fix anything that was amiss. I moved a few of the tables to accommodate a better flow for the room. There were three bar setups with multiple bartenders to ensure that the upper crust of New York society was never left thirsty.
By the time people started arriving, I was fully ready to start greeting them by the door.
The mayor and his wife walked in the door, both dressed to the nines and looking quite excited to be here. She looked around the room with expectation and just the slightest air of judgment, but she covered it up quickly with a polite smile plastered all over her face.
I greeted them and they took a seat at one of the nearby tables. A waitress quickly attended to them, but I was distracted by another couple that walked in after them. I greeted them with a warm smile, working the door for a period of time before I made my way inside.
I talked local politics with several, making notes of their concerns for the homeless, for the state’s education system and I brought up my own worries about the foster care system, which unbeknownst to them was inspired by someone much closer to home.
I wanted to make the world better for people like my Cami.
The mayor walked up to me later that night with two glasses of whiskey in his hand. He offered one to me and I took it as graciously as I could. I enjoyed a good bourbon more than whiskey, but I wouldn’t turn my nose up at a moment like this.
“Having a good evening, Mayor Richardson?” I asked and he nodded, taking a sip of his drink as he glanced around the room.
“Most definitely. I can’t help but tell you that you’ve done a beautiful job fixing up the place,” he replied.
“It was a lot of work, but I think it turned out well,” I admitted humbly.
“Don’t be bashful. It was the biggest eyesore in Hudson for the longest time. You’ve boosted property values all around the city. This place used to be a landmark a long time ago. It was one of the biggest bed and breakfasts in the area back in the eighties, all the way until the original owners went bankrupt about ten years ago,” he continued.
I knew all this history, but I listened intently anyway.
“Did you ever stay here, Mayor?” I asked.
“I did. Took my high school sweetheart here back in the day after the homecoming dance,” he answered with a smirk.
“Which room did you stay in?” I winked.
“There’s a guestroom upstairs all the way down the hall,” he answered, and I chuckled softly. I knew the one he was talking about. That room was particularly special to me too because that’s where I’d first met my little girl. I smiled wistfully and he caught it.
“You know the one?”
“Yeah. I know which one,” I replied, but I didn’t give any more details.
“That fireplace over there is where she and I shared our first kiss,” he stated. “I’m glad you kept it in its original state for the most part.”
“Whatever happened to her?” I asked. He hadn’t looked at his wife once when he was speaking about this girl. He looked lost in distant memories and when his gaze slid over to me, he laughed.
“Stella fell in love with a drummer a few years later and left me to go follow him out to the west coast,” he replied with a gentle shake of the head.
“Ahh. The good life,” I snorted, and I raised my drink in a mock salute. He chuckled even harder before raising his own.
“It’s nice to have someone like you in the area,” the mayor continued, and I glanced back at him.
“I grew up here. This place feels like home to me. The trees, the land, the people. All of it. It feels like I never left,” I replied honestly, and his gaze searched mine, likely looking for any measure of falsehood, but he wouldn’t find any of that because I was speaking the truth.
“I’m growing old, Mason. For years I’ve seen candidates come and go, but none of them have the heart of Hudson or much care for the people other than a power trip,” he confided.
I turned my head. “You still feel young to me,” I replied.
He chuckled knowingly. “I’m not as young as I look,” he said with a wink. “Listen, if you decide to run for office, you will have my endorsement. I’ve taken care of this place for almost sixteen years now and I would gladly step down and enjoy my retirement if someone like you replaced me,” he said softly enough so that no one would be able to hear him other than me.
“Nothing is official yet, but that means a lot to me to know,” I answered carefully.
“I know. I just wanted you to know that you have my blessing when you decide to go forward,” he continued, and I thanked him as graciously as I could.
“Would you like another drink?” I offered.
“No. Wife has cut me off for the night,” he smirked.
I snorted and took a sip of my own.
“I’m a lucky guy though. Get you a woman that still looks at you like you’re the most handsome man in the world even when you’re approaching the ripe old age of seventy,” he muttered and just as he finished speaking, his wife moseyed on over and took his arm.
“Mason,” she nodded toward me in greeting.
“Rebecca,” I smiled.
“This has been such a lovely evening and I’m so pleased that the renovations went so well. You’ve really done a fantastic job and I need to know the name of whatever designer you used to decorate the place. The work is exquisite!” she exclaimed.
It would have made Cami so happy to hear that someone other than me appreciated what she’d done for me.
“I’ll get you the name,” I answered.
“Are you getting tired, my dear? Do you want to head on home soon?” the mayor asked, and she nodded, kissing his cheek.
“In just a little while,” she answered. “Come. The Bickertons are asking for you.”
“Talk soon, Mason,” he called out as his wife led him off. He was right. She did look at him with starry eyes, like he was still just as handsome as when they’d first met.
Would Cami still look at me that way in thirty or forty years? I hoped she would.
Another couple approached me, quickly distracting me from my thoughts as I got to know the upper crust of New York society. Many of them complimented me on the renovations to the home and several of them commented on how nicely the interior design was done to bring out both the old and the new so seamlessly.
Everyone was friendly and polite. Shortly thereafter, dinner was served, and the conversation flowed freely. A few people asked if I was running for office, and I told them I was considering it but hadn’t yet fully decided. A few men on the state council smirked at that and told me they would support me both monetarily and with their standing should I decide that was the route I would go. I thanked them. There was music and dancing following the meal. Several women danced with me and a few of them were more than suggestive about wanting to take things further, but I ignored all their advances.
There was only one woman I wanted on my arm, and she wasn’t here. Even worse, it was my fault that she wasn’t.
The longer the party went on, the more I started feeling Cami’s absence. I wanted to sweep her across the floor in my arms and kiss her. More than anything, I just wanted her here at my side.
I’d been so swamped with work the past week that I’d hardly had any time with her at all. She’d been quiet and sweet all week, bringing me meals from time to time when I missed dinner or breakfast because I was stuck in a meeting or a call. I found myself thinking about her visit to my office this morning. She’d dropped off the bagel with her usual soft smile, but she hadn’t looked me in the eye. Not once. Why hadn’t I noticed that hours ago?
I rolled back the clock in my head.
She’d been so quiet this week. She hadn’t come to my office to read a book or to just spend time near me. Sure, we had spent the nights together and she’d cuddled against me when I’d insisted on it, but she hadn’t reached for me. She hadn’t sought out my comfort like she usually did.
She hadn’t even resorted to her usual sassy ways to goad me into smacking her cute little bottom. She hadn’t kissed my cheek or my hands or circled her arms around me.
I’d been so busy. We hadn’t made love in more than a week.
Maybe I was crazy and just missing her, but it was chewing me open from the inside now. Something was wrong and I’d been too involved with work to notice her. There’d been a definitive change in her the morning I’d asked her to find something else to do during the party tonight.
I found myself reliving every moment since that breakfast, trying to catch the things I might have missed and feeling sicker with myself with everything that I remembered.
I needed to fix it. I’d find her as soon as I was done here, and I’d make it up to her.
I glanced at the clock, noticing that it was almost midnight. My guests were starting to trickle out the door. By the time the last one left, I had to be careful not to rush them out because I was frantic to find my little girl.
She’d done exactly as I had asked, but I hated myself for asking that of her. I felt guilty and I wished I could take it back.
I said my goodbyes to the staff and booked it out of the banquet hall.
She had never told me what she was going to do, so I started searching the house. I started in her old room, but she wasn’t there. I tried the swimming pool, the sauna, the movie room, everywhere I could think that she might spend any time in. I searched the whole house, finding no sign of her until I finally ventured into my bedroom with the hope that she’d gone to bed early or decided to enjoy a bath in our massive Jacuzzi tub.
She wasn’t there either, but just as I was about to go search outside, I saw a piece of paper on the pillow out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head and noticed that her cell phone was next to it. She didn’t really use it for much, but I knew she kept it for emergencies and knowing she’d left it behind was alarming to say the least.
With a sinking heart, I rushed over to the letter and picked it up. My fingers were shaking, but I ignored it as I read through the handwritten words she’d left for me to find.
I’ve struggled to write this letter all day. I’ve written twenty different variations and torn them all up, but I’ve run out of time so this will have to be the last one.
I’ve treasured our time together, but in my heart, I’ve always known that a girl like me is never meant to end up with a man like you. I don’t want my presence in your life to embarrass you or cause you any hardship. I don’t want to hold you back. I can’t stand the thought of hurting you like that, but I also can’t live a life where I have to hide our relationship like it’s something to be ashamed of. I tried, but it hurts too much.
I’m sorry. To make it easier on the both of us, I’ll go. I wish you the best in everything you do. I love you and I hope you understand.
Goodbye, Daddy. I’ll miss you.
Miserably, I sat down on the bed and stared at the piece of paper. I didn’t want to believe any of it was true. I was desperate for it not to be true. I willed the words to change or morph into something else, but they never did. With waning hope, I told myself that maybe she was trying to play a joke to earn a spanking, but that fell flat. It was dumb to even think it. She wouldn’t do something like this for attention. Sure, she’d come to dinner late or sass her way into it, but she’d never try something like this.
In her heart, she was a good girl. She deserved to be treasured and cherished like the prize she was, and I’d done a shit job of showing her that.
The more I glared at the letter, the worse each sentence began to feel. The paper was stained and as I stared at the tiny circles, I began to realize that they were the dried remnants of her tears. The letter was covered with them, and my heart sank even further.
I’d done this. Her sadness was my fault.
I had tried to protect her, but I’d just ended up hurting her in the process. I put the letter down beside me and hung my head in my hands. I couldn’t imagine life without her. I craved her arms circling my neck and the sweetness of her kiss on my lips. Already, I missed the sparkle in her eyes and the way the dimple on her left cheek would peek out any time she smiled. I adored her presence. I needed it.
I picked up the letter and grazed my thumb across the soft parchment. I didn’t want to believe it was real, but every word dove deep into my soul and tore it apart, little by little.
I loved her and thinking about my future without her in it was too much to bear. I couldn’t do it.
I’d made such a big mistake and all I wanted to do was fix it, to take her into my lap and kiss her forehead and tell her everything was going to be alright because I wasn’t ashamed that she was mine. I wanted to tell her I was proud to be her daddy and I was grateful every day that she was my little girl.
I read the letter again. And then again.
I stopped at the line where it said that she’d run out of time. Maybe she was still close, and I could catch her and apologize. I could kiss her and tell her that I was sorry, that she was worth all of that and more, that I would do anything if she would just come back to me.
I was going to find her.
I folded the letter and pushed it into my pocket, pressing it against my heart knowing it was the last thing she’d touched. I rushed out of our bedroom and onto the front lawn. I ran down the driveway and looked back and forth down the street. My heart pounded in my chest, but there was no sign of her. There weren’t that many streetlamps in this area, so it was dark. I couldn’t see much of anything.
I searched the rest of the grounds with a fine-toothed comb. I even checked the treehouse that I knew she hid in sometimes, but to no avail.
I sprinted to the garage and slipped into my black Tesla, stepped on the break, and threw it into drive too quickly, but I didn’t much care about the state of my engine right now. The woman I loved was gone and I needed to find her. I needed to win her back and I would stop at nothing to do it.
I started by casing the long road that led to my property. When I didn’t see any sign of her there, I branched out even further. It didn’t matter what time it was. I didn’t even look at the clock. I was afraid if I took my eyes off the road or the surrounding area that I might miss her. I couldn’t bear the thought of that.
I drove down every road in the town of Hudson that night. The longer I looked, the more desperate I felt. I started to see her in the shadows. But when I stopped the car to get out and look, there was nothing more than a cardboard box or a pile of trash. My eyes were playing tricks on me.
What if she had gotten hurt? What if she was lying in a ditch somewhere with no way to call me or let me know that she needed my help? What if she needed me and I wasn’t there to take care of her?
My panic pressed me onward. I drove until the sun rose and still, I searched. It was lunchtime by the time I finally drove back home, dejected and more miserable than I’d ever felt in my life. I pulled into my driveway, hoping to see her sitting on the front porch. I walked into the house, praying to find her sitting at the kitchen table for breakfast or sleeping in my bed.
My heart sank when she wasn’t.
Exhausted, I returned to my office and broke out my favorite bottle of bourbon. I poured a double and swallowed it down before I poured another and another and eventually passed out on my couch.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep in our bed without her.
I never stopped searching for her. I called in every favor in the book, looking for her name on bus tickets or taxi cabs, wherever I could think she might have possibly turned to. I visited every woman’s sanctuary and homeless shelter within a hundred miles, hoping I’d see her face when I walked inside. I had her phone searched for clues to where her friends lived, and I visited each one myself.
I didn’t find her anywhere.
Her absence was like agony and with every passing day, I felt it more keenly. I didn’t know where she’d gone or if she was safe.
It was as if she’d disappeared without a trace. More than that though, she didn’t want to be found.
I didn’t really sleep for days. Any rest I found came from sleeping pills or copious amount of bourbon. I couldn’t bring myself to even walk into our bedroom, so I’d been sleeping in one of the guest rooms next to my office or on my couch. Eventually, I stopped being able to sleep at all.
I needed to do something. Anything.
I needed my Cami back.
The night I’d left Mason had been the hardest night of my life. I’d sobbed all day, knowing that there wasn’t really any other choice for me. I’d cried as I’d written that letter, hiding out in the movie theater until I was sure that the banquet had started, and I could slip into our bedroom without him hearing me.
He’d been so caught up in his work that it had almost seemed like I’d ceased to exist. When he’d stopped showing up for our usual breakfasts and dinners together, I’d brought him something to eat a few times. I’d knocked on his door and he’d let me in, but I hadn’t been brave enough to stay because he’d been scolding someone over the phone. There was some sort of tax emergency or an audit of some kind that he was working through, and I didn’t want to distract him, so I’d gone off on my own and kept myself busy day after day that week.
He came to bed at night late and he got up early. He hadn’t touched me in several days. But the thing that had hurt me the most was that he forgot to tuck me into bed most of those nights, so I’d gone to sleep on my own. I’d woken up to feel him climb into bed beside me, but he’d just snuggled close to me, which was enough to help me fall back asleep.
The disconnect between us felt so vast and the longer it went on, the worse it felt. I found myself wondering about our future. He’d taken me on several dates, but every one of them was engineered to just be the two of us. He’d book out the whole place, be it a restaurant, movie theater, or somewhere else. I had enjoyed those dates immensely, but it also felt like he was hiding me when I considered them after the fact.
I didn’t want to hide how happy he made me. I couldn’t live a life where I had to pretend like we didn’t exist.
What hope did we have for a future together? He wanted to run for mayor eventually and having me at his side would only hinder him. Society would never approve of a couple like us. I was only nineteen and he was thirty-four. There was no doubt in my mind that my very existence would cause a scandal and he didn’t deserve his chances to be ruined just because he cared for someone like me.
The difference in our ages had never been important to me until the day he’d asked me to not be around the day of the gathering. I’d never really thought much of the age gap, but it had been weighing on me heavily for days before I finally made the decision to go.
But that wasn’t the only thing. I was an orphan, a poor girl who could offer nothing to a rich man like him who had everything.
For a while, I’d been blinded by him and his world and I’d been foolish enough to think I had a place in it. I’d been lying to myself. I’d never belong. I knew that now.
He wouldn’t be my Prince Charming. I accepted that and I knew deep in my heart that there was only one thing left for me to do.
I had to leave.
The morning of the party, I’d brought him breakfast. I hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for fear he might figure out what I planned to do, and he hadn’t even noticed. He hadn’t reached for my chin. He hadn’t kissed me. Honestly, he’d barely acknowledged me that day. I had swallowed back my hurt and false hope and had left his office as soon as I was able, which was easy because he was so distracted by work.
I’d packed up a bag and hidden it behind a pile of boxes in the closet that afternoon. When the time came to leave, I’d grabbed it and ran. I’d cut through the woods, taking backroads and alleys for fear that he would figure out I was gone before I could get away.
That first night, I’d slept at my friend Sophie’s house. She’d taken me in with open arms, but I hadn’t stayed long. I knew that Mason would be looking for me. I wasn’t sure if he would be angry with me for leaving, but I didn’t want to be the person that held him back from his dreams. It was my responsibility to end it now before the two of us got too deep and society found out about us.
The first day was rough and it hadn’t gotten any easier since. I’d cried at least once every day, wanting to take back my decision and go back home, but I couldn’t put myself in a relationship where I had to hide the fact that we were together. More than anything, I couldn’t let my very existence hinder him.
I knew he wanted to run for office one day. On the nights when we’d snuggle and tell each other all the things we dreamed of, he’d tell me about the legislation he would change, about the various strategies he would use to bring more tourism and revenue to the area, and the additional support he wanted to provide to the state foster care system. He’d kissed my head those nights and circled his arms around me, telling me that it had been me who had inspired him to get involved to make things better for all those that struggled.
It had been so sweet. He’d reached for my hand and held it tight, and I cherished that memory more than anything.
I missed him, but I wouldn’t tell anyone how I felt. I didn’t want to ruin his chances at happiness, so I would stay hidden because it was the right thing to do. I’d suffer through my broken heart in silence, but most important, I’d do it alone.
I’d couch surfed for a few days at a few different places, but I never stayed more than a night. Thankfully, I still had some of the money he’d paid me for decorating the house. I used some of it to buy some food from the grocery store or for small cheap meals off the dollar menu at McDonalds. I spent it sparingly, not really knowing where I was going to go from here.
Yesterday, I’d stopped at Miss Ethel’s place for dinner, and she’d taken one look at me and pursed her lips in disapproval.
“If you’re in trouble, Cami, you will tell me,” she chided and I shook my head, pretending nothing was wrong. I blinked back tears as a sudden rush of emotion took hold of me, but I pushed it away.
“Don’t lie to me, girl. If you need a place to stay, all you need to do is say the word,” she insisted. She didn’t even given me a chance to stammer out an answer before she shook her head again and cleared her throat. “You’re staying in my guest room tonight and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
She walked into the kitchen and muttered something to Tony. I didn’t really hear what she said, but she emerged a few minutes later with a full plate of spaghetti.
“Eat. When you’re done, you’ll go freshen up and then you’ll help Tony in the kitchen. When we close tonight, you’ll come home with me and when we come back in the morning, you will earn your keep as my newly hired waitress,” she scolded, and I nodded. She’d never really spoken to me with such sternness before, so I wasn’t really certain what else to do. I worried my bottom lip with my teeth.
“Eat up, Cami. Everything is going to be okay,” she murmured.
She didn’t really give me a chance to argue. She went back to work right away, and I stared at the food on my plate. There were only a few people eating in the restaurant and I moved my plate to the place I usually sat. The local news was broadcasting on the television hanging up in the corner and I watched it absentmindedly for a while.
The news anchors talked of some traffic backup on the highway, some new construction to the north of town, and some other things I didn’t really listen to. The white noise of their chatter eased the constant swirling emotions in my head. I ate the pasta in front of me without really tasting it. To be honest, I hadn’t had much of an appetite since the day I left.
If Mason knew how little I’d eaten this week, he’d probably spank me silly with that terrible wooden spoon. I’m not really sure why, but I smiled before I realized what I was doing. When what I did finally dawned on me, I sat back, aggravated that I’d let myself think something like that.
I missed him. I missed everything about him, his arms, the gentle soothing rumble of his voice, the way just being around him calmed my mind. I missed all of that, but I missed his presence as my daddy in my life the most.
Doing it alone felt so lonely now.
“In breaking news, Mason Pierce will be holding a press conference at twelve o’clock tomorrow. It is assumed he will be announcing his widely anticipated bid for mayor, and we will be providing full coverage of the event in hopes of finding out his vision for Hudson’s future.”
I lifted my eyes back to the television screen. They were showing images of him from when he lived in California, shaking hands with the rich and famous and I sighed.
How could I have ever thought I’d end up with a man like him? He deserved so much better than a poor orphan like me.
The news switched to another story, and I stared down into my plate of spaghetti. Feeling close to tears, I rushed off into the employee restroom at the back. It had been a few days since I’d taken a shower, so I stripped, washed up, and sobbed in silence while letting the hot water rinse my tears down the drain.
I went home with Ethel that night. Thankfully, I’d been able to get ahold of myself enough to finish the dinner that had been prepared for me. I’d helped both her and Tony close for the night. She hadn’t asked any questions and I hadn’t offered her any explanations. I simply thanked her for her kindness and went to bed early that night. The next morning, she had a cup of coffee ready for me before she brought me back to the restaurant.
I already knew most of the menu, so there wasn’t much of a training process. I took orders from her costumers, wrote them down, and passed them on to Tony. She handled the cash register, which was fine with me. Math had never been my favorite subject anyway.
The day went smoothly. By the time lunch rolled around, Ethel insisted that I take a break for lunch because she wouldn’t stand for me working myself to the bone on her account. I sat down in my usual spot, and she brought out a sandwich Tony had prepped for me. I picked it up, smiling when I realized it was one of my favorites, grilled chicken with the works. It was messy, but it was really good.
The television was playing a usual soap opera and I didn’t think anything of it until the broadcast was interrupted by a news anchor.
“We’re here at the press conference for Mason Pierce, where we hope to find out the official news of his bid for mayor. Later, we’ll talk to Mayor Richardson about his opinion of his potential competition, but for now, we bring you Mason Pierce, live and in person!”
I looked around, but the restaurant was getting busy. Ethel had started taking orders herself and when I tried to get up to go help her, she shooed me away with a harsh scolding to sit down, relax, and enjoy my lunch hour. I did as she said without argument. A part of me wanted to flee because it felt like the safer option, but I didn’t want to make a scene, so I stayed seated.
I couldn’t take my eyes away from the television as the man I loved stepped up onto the stage. I knew where he was. They’d set him up in front of town hall with an expensive-looking podium. He was surrounded by reporters with cameras and microphones, along with several people that lived in town.
But I stopped looking at the crowd when he looked into the camera. From that moment on, all I could see was him. It felt like he was looking deep into my soul, and I couldn’t turn away. My eyes watered and I blinked away my tears, trying to hold myself together.
He was just as handsome and perfect as ever, but he looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes and as his hands grasped the podium, I could have sworn they shook a little bit. He looked down for several moments, before he took a deep breath and turned back to face the camera.
When he began to speak, I had to look away for a second to compose myself because the sound of his voice nearly undid me.
“Most of you are here today because you expect me to announce my bid for mayor in next year’s election, but I’m sorry to say I’m going to disappoint you. I’m not here to announce anything of the sort.”
The crowd started blurting out questions, trying to get his attention and he held up his hand. After a moment, the audience quieted down, and he looked back out at them.
“I’m not here to tell you that I’m running for mayor. I won’t take questions on my plans for Hudson’s future or the subject of my political aspirations. I called this press conference for a singular reason. I need to get a message to the woman I love.”
When he paused, no one said a word. Mason Pierce didn’t openly date. He never had. I’d googled him one time and read one story after the next about how he was one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. He’d been featured in several magazines, but he never gave an opinion or comment as to the reason he’d never been open about any of his relationships in the past. There’d been speculation from time to time about who he was seeing, if anyone, but no one had ever shown any concrete evidence of the sort. Many of the stories guessed at the cause of his scars, but no one knew where they had come from, just that they gave him a mysterious and dangerous edge.
I knew why, though. Mason Pierce was a firestorm in bed. He liked to be the one in charge, and he enjoyed putting a woman in her place, be it with a hard spanking over his knee or a rough lesson with his cock.
I blushed at the thought because I was the type of girl who enjoyed all of that.
“So today, I want to tell you a story.”
He paused again, gathering his thoughts as my heart pounded in my chest.
“Several months ago, I bought an abandoned house here in Hudson. Many of you know it as Bryson Manor. I had dreams of bringing the old place back to life as a way to pay it forward to the city, to take something that had fallen into disrepair and make it beautiful again. I expected to find rusted-out pipes, asbestos, worn-out tiles, cracked walls, graffiti, and whatever else typically comes with a home that hasn’t been inhabited for a long time, but what I didn’t expect was that I’d find a nineteen-year-old orphan living in one of the bedrooms upstairs.”
“She was a beautiful little thing, but she was far too skinny and malnourished, a broken byproduct of a foster care system that took a brilliant mind like hers and defeated her so soundly that she couldn’t think past where she would get her next meal or a bed to sleep on rather than where she would go to college or what she dreamed of doing with the rest of her future. All her life, people had turned their back on her, and she expected me to be no different.
“I remember that day like it was yesterday. I’d just bought the house and I’d only just arrived to start arranging renovations as soon as possible. I was taking stock of the house and when I opened the door to the guest room upstairs, I’d found her cuddled up and sleeping away in one of the beds.
“Other men might have thrown her out, but I didn’t have the heart to do that, not when I had such a big house all to myself. She hadn’t known that at the time. She’d been doing her research though and she claimed squatter’s rights.
“I could have dragged her through court, but then where would she go? Where would she live? Who would make sure that she was taken care of? She’d already aged out of the foster care system. She no longer mattered in their eyes. They’d done their job and wiped their hands clean of her.
“I wasn’t going to do that to her, so I offered to let her stay. I didn’t charge her rent or ask anything of her but her company at breakfast and dinner a few times a week, mostly because I wanted to be certain that she would eat a whole meal because she desperately needed it.
“For weeks, we got to know one another. I stopped seeing her as a young orphan, but a capable young woman with an intelligent mind and an even sharper wit. She’d never been given a chance to develop even one iota of any of that.
“Many of you have reached out to me regarding the interior design of Bryson Manor. I didn’t hire any special talent or some famous name to decorate my home. No. That was all her. She hasn’t taken any classes or been given any special instruction. Nothing.
“That was her raw, natural talent. With the right training, I think she could be something truly magnificent.
“Over the weeks, we grew closer. Her presence in my home was a refreshing break from the rigors of running a tech company, and I came to value her opinion on many things, from what I should wear to a meeting to the wording of an email. I depended on her.
“More than that though, I fell in love with her.”
I swallowed hard. I was having difficulty holding myself together. My eyes were watering as he spoke.
“I tried my best to take care of her. I provided her with a home, a safe place to grow and explore while making it very clear that I would help her achieve whatever her heart desired. She became someone very special to me. She deserves the world and I wanted to be the one to give it to her, but I made a mistake, a really big one.”
His hands gripped the podium, and he took a deep breath before he continued.
“Last week, I held a banquet in my home. I invited the mayor, his wife, and several members of the Hudson community. I wanted to show them how I’d taken Bryson Manor and made it great again and introduce myself to the community in an official way so that if I ever did run for political office, they could know the type of man that I was and the kinds of things I stood for in this beautiful community.
“I asked her not to come that night. I asked her to disappear so no one would see her.
“I did that for several reasons, the first being that I wanted to protect her. She’s young and vulnerable, only nineteen while I’m thirty-four. Society would never approve of such a difference. They would call me names, and I would ignore them, but I didn’t want her to experience the vile kind of insults that would come her way.
“The second reason was selfish. I do aspire to run for office one day and I thought if I could maneuver myself into a more secure position and then introduce her later, that it would make things easier in the end.
“I thought of all those things, but what I didn’t think of was how that would make her feel. I didn’t know that she would think that I was hiding her because I was ashamed of her. I didn’t know that it would hurt her, and I wish I could take it back.
“I don’t care about the age gap between us, and I care even less about the difference in our social class. None of that matters to me and it never will. I will not apologize for loving her because she is an incredible woman, and she deserves to know that.”
At this point, I couldn’t hold back my tears. I was openly sobbing. My sandwich was sitting on my plate, half-eaten and long forgotten. Someone was talking behind me about the press conference, saying something about it being shown on every channel at this point. There was a live blogging of the event on their phone. Every news outlet in the city was broadcasting Mason. I heard them say that both regional and national news channels were showing the news conference and that made me sob all the harder because I knew that this might irrevocably destroy his chances for office in the future.
Ethel noticed and made her way over to me. She didn’t say a word, but she pressed her hand to my back in support.
“After the banquet, she disappeared. I’ve searched for her everywhere I can think of. I’ve driven the streets of Hudson and the surrounding area at least a dozen times hoping to spot her so I can tell her that I was wrong and that I’m sorry for what I asked her to do. I wish I could take it back. I’ve checked homeless shelters. I’ve contacted her friends. I haven’t slept since she left because no seat in office is worth having if she isn’t by my side. My future isn’t worth anything without her.
“I didn’t know what else to do, so I called this press conference in hopes that she might see it. I wanted to tell our story, to show her I don’t want to hide and that I’m proud to call her mine.”
He looked into the camera now and I felt like he was looking directly at me.
“My sweet girl, if you’re watching this, I love you. I will never stop loving you and I miss you terribly. I’m so sorry and there’s nothing I want more than to have you back. I am not ashamed of you, and I never will be. Know that in your heart. Please come back to me. Please let me show you how important you are to me.”
At this point, everyone in the diner had noticed that I was crying. Some of them muttered something that I was crazy or dramatic or just a hormonal girl, but I did my best to ignore them. Several diners came up to see if I was okay, but Ethel grasped both of my shoulders and made me look at her while brushing everyone else away.
“What is it, Cami? You can tell me anything,” she pressed. Her silvery blue eyes searched mine. She’d always been so nice to me, and I hung my head, deciding to trust her with my story.
“He’s talking about me,” I whispered, barely able to speak at this point. For a moment, she looked back at me in disbelief, and someone nearby laughed and said I was probably joking, but she paid them no mind.
“It’s not far. You should go to him,” she coaxed. Her expression remained gentle and kind, and I knew I’d made the right call to trust her.
“But I’m supposed to be working,” I said lamely. I fidgeted with my hands in my lap, and she cleared her throat before she continued speaking.
“Tell you what, Cami. You’re fired,” she answered, and I started crying even harder. I reached in my pocket to try to dig out a ten-dollar bill so that I could pay for my lunch because I didn’t know what else to do. I held it out to her, but she pushed it back toward me with a shake of her head.
“Listen, your lunch is on the house today if you promise to come back with that man and eat here together with him someday soon. You go back to him and tell him how you feel. Give it to him good for hurting your feelings and make him work for your forgiveness. Do you hear me, young lady?” she scolded. She shook my shoulders gently.
“But I’m going to ruin his chances,” I protested.
“No. You won’t. That man chose you, not his career, not politics, none of that. He chose you and if you love him, you should go to him,” she said firmly.
I opened my mouth, wanting to say something that would prove her wrong, but I had nothing.
“Do you love him?” she pressed.
“I love him,” I admitted.
“Then go to him,” she replied. I looked back at the screen and then back to her, before nodding once. She let go of me and I got out of the chair.
I took a deep breath and rushed out the door of the diner. I ran all the way to the town hall without stopping. I didn’t care that my muscles soon burned with the exertion of it or that my lungs worked overtime or that my heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.
I ran like my life depended on it. By the time I made it to the town hall, the crowd was even bigger than when I’d first seen it. Mason was still talking into the microphone, and I started to push to the front. People sneered at me as I forced my way through, but I no longer cared.
“With all that being said, I would like to make one final announcement. I have decided not to run for mayor in the next election whether or not the love of my life decides to return to me. I have better things to worry about than what this city thinks of me, and I care even less what they think about who I choose to love,” he declared.
“Mason!” I screamed. I called his name several times, pushing through the crowd more urgently. People yelled at me, but eventually enough of them parted so that I could make my way to the stage. Mason beginning to walk off the stage, and I feared that I wouldn’t catch him.
A police officer grabbed my arm, and I screamed his name again. Mason turned back and his soulful sad gaze found mine.
“Let her go!” he roared, and the officer was so surprised that he did just that.
“Come here, Cami-girl,” Mason said. His voice was trembling with emotion, and I tore so quickly up those stairs that I nearly tripped. He caught me and swung me up into his arms. His lips found mine in a desperate kiss. I kissed him back with just as much emotion.
He carried me off that stage as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whispered.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, my little girl. I’m so glad you came back to me,” he answered hoarsely. His arms trembled just a hair as he held me, and I knew he meant every single word deep down to the core of his heart.
“I’m glad I did too,” I murmured. I didn’t let go of him as he whisked me into a limo waiting for him around the corner. He tucked me into his lap for the ride back home, holding onto me like he never wanted to let go of me again.
Mason refused to let me go when we got home. He carried me into the house where he settled down on the couch in the sitting room just off the entryway. I didn’t protest as he situated me on his lap, curling up against the warmth of his chest.
“I’m so sorry, little girl. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You’re my little girl and you’re so very special to me,” he whispered. He kissed my forehead gently as his hands gripped my flesh. “I’m just so glad you’re safe. I was so worried.”
I pushed back against his chest, staring into his eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought you’d be happier without me, that you’d be able to pursue your dreams without me holding you back,” I said.
“Nothing will ever be worth more than you, Cami-girl. You’re so much more than a political office or riches or fame or any of that. You’re so special to me. You don’t have to forgive me today or even at all, but I would very much like a chance to begin to make it up to you.”
“I’m sorry—” I started, and he shook his head.
“There nothing for you to be sorry about, sweetheart,” he answered firmly.
“You’re not mad at me?” I asked. I was suddenly very worried that he would be angry even though I’d left with only the best intentions. Would he punish me for something like that? I tensed, not knowing if I could take something like that right now. I felt so fragile, so worried and insecure and I tried to push it back. I chewed my lip as my finger fidgeted with the edges of his suit jacket and he surrounded my hands with his, his touch settling me almost instantly.
“No, I’m not upset at all. It was my fault. I’m just so thankful that you’re safe and that maybe you came back to give me another chance,” he murmured, and I curled back up against him. His lips pressed against my forehead, and I closed my eyes, sighing with abject relief.
“I’ve missed this so much. I’ve missed you,” I whispered.
“Me too, Cami-girl. So very much,” he said, his voice shaking with sorrow and hope.
“Did you mean what you said at the conference?” I asked, my own voice trembling too.
“Every word,” he vowed.
“You said that you fell in love with me,” I said softly, trying to push past the fear that was balling up deep in my throat.
“I love you, Cami. I love you so very much,” he replied boldly. His voice wasn’t wavering now like before. I searched his gaze, finding nothing but the truth buried inside those eyes.
“Do you still want to be my daddy?” I asked even more timidly. My tongue was so dry that it felt like it had turned to parchment. I swallowed anxiously, but that didn’t make it any better. I held onto him, my fingers twisting into his jacket as I struggled to keep myself together.
“Always, my little girl. I will be your daddy for as long as you want me,” he answered.
I was facing him now with my knees on either side of his waist. My arms were looped around his neck, my body flush against his. I was so full of emotion. I wanted to cry, to scream, to be held, to be kissed and fucked. I wanted everything.
I pulled back and gripped the knot of his tie. I jerked him toward me and kissed him. It wasn’t a gentle kiss either. It was laced with anger and emotion and need so strong that I couldn’t even try to contain it. In return, his was more tender and it sobered me. When I pulled back, my breathing had quickened, and my heart was palpitating in my chest.
“What do you need from Daddy, my Cami-girl?” he asked. His touch was tentative, thoughtful, and I wanted more of it.
“Make love to me, Daddy,” I whispered.
“Anything for you, my little girl,” he promised, and his arms wrapped around me. He carried me into the bedroom like I weighed no more than a child. He lowered me down onto the bed gently. His hand reached for my face, caressing my cheek tenderly with his thumb.
“There is nothing more beautiful than the sight of you here in my bed,” he exclaimed, and I blushed a little at the compliment.
“But I…” I began and he shook his head.
“Let me show you how much I love you, my sweet girl,” he whispered soothingly.
“Yes, Daddy,” I replied, biting my lip as I searched his gaze. His thumb grazed across my cheek, and I closed my eyes, losing myself in the gentleness of his touch. I sucked in a deep breath, trembling a little when he released me. His fingertips were only away from my skin for mere seconds, but it felt like the longest moment in the world until his hands were on me once again.
“There’s my good girl,” he murmured, and I shivered as he slipped his hands down my front. He skillfully maneuvered around my breasts to grasp the hem of my shirt. Slowly, he lifted it up and over my head. He tossed my shirt aside, using his much bigger size to press me down to the bed. His lips caressed the hollow of my throat and I arched up into him.
He kissed my neck, my chest, my belly, my thighs, and everywhere else, worshipping me with the gentle touch of his mouth all over my exposed flesh. When he pulled back and removed my shoes, I whined. I wanted more already. I’d missed him so much that all I wanted to feel right now was the connection between us. I needed him.
“Hush, Cami-girl. Daddy is going to take his time with you tonight,” he whispered, and my core squeezed tight with anticipation. He took off my socks next, kissing up the curves of my feet and the length of my ankles.
I was surrounded by his entire being as he crawled over me. He grasped my jeans and unbuttoned them so slowly that I cried out with impatience. I reached for him and kissed the exposed part of his throat. A primal growl emerged from him as he pushed my pants down. Without delay, he rocked back and inched them down slowly until at long last, he tossed them aside. I didn’t even care where they ended up.
I had expected him to make quick work of my bra and panties, but he didn’t reach for them, at least not right away. Instead, he rained kisses all over my body, stoking my desire with every brush and gentle caress. I sighed with pleasure as he kissed along the length of my collarbone and when he finally reached behind my back to unclasp my bra, I arched up in hopes he would take my nipple into his mouth.
He didn’t. Instead, he kissed all over my breasts, deftly avoiding my nipples even though I squirmed endlessly beneath him.
“Daddy, please!” I begged.
He finally took each hard tip in his mouth, and I shook hard. My inner walls were practically convulsing. I was so aroused that I knew if I slipped my hand between my thighs, I would come with nothing more than a light touch. As if he could read my mind, his fingers pinned my wrists to either side of my body as he worked his mouth down the rest of me.
My belly. My hips. My thighs.
He painted my body with his gentle kisses. Over and over again, he brushed his lips against my flesh, causing me to shiver and cry out with building passionate need.
“I never want to let you go, sweet girl,” he murmured.
“Then don’t, Daddy,” I urged.
His lips captured mine then. There was no cruelty in that kiss, simply raw emotion. His breath became mine. Our tongues danced together, and deliciously beautiful sensation rattled through me.
He’d never kissed me like that before. This was pure romance.
It was desperate in a sense, but it was also passionate. It was right and wrong and everything in between and I wanted it to last forever. His fingers caressed my throat gently, pulling me in deeper and I arched into him, giving him everything when I realized that my hands were finally free.
I grasped at his suit jacket, unbuttoning it and slipping it down his shoulders. He shrugged it off and made quick work of his shirt beneath. When his chest was finally bare, I ran my fingers through the thick hair that covered his flesh, enjoying the friction of the coarse texture against my skin. He kicked off his shoes, but he stopped there, much to my frustration.
I went to push my panties down in hopes of speeding things up, but he brushed my hands aside and held my hips against the bed. I whined with needy irritation. My lips slammed shut as soon as his mouth pressed against the warmth of my pussy, teasing my clit through the fabric of my underwear. I gasped excitedly.
“Daddy, I can’t take it,” I moaned.
He finally grasped my panties and dragged them down my hips so terribly slowly that I tried to squirm to hasten their descent even though I soon realized that I could do nothing to make him go faster.
My body was burning up.
“Please. I need to come, Daddy,” I begged.
His mouth was suddenly on the bare flesh of my pussy. My eyes rolled back in my head so quickly that I thought the bed had disappeared from beneath me. My hips rocked against his touch as he lightly teased me, gently edging me toward orgasm but not really letting me get there quite yet.
His tongue was warm and wet, and I arched up against him, dragging my clit up and down its rough surface in hopes that I would finally be able to let go. Just when I thought I was going to shatter beneath him, he pulled away and lightly kissed my inner thigh.
My whole body shuddered at the unexpected turn. My clit was pulsing, and my thighs wouldn’t stop shaking.
“Please. Oh, please,” I pleaded. Suddenly, there was nothing more important to me than his cock inside me. I needed that connection between us.
“What do you need, little girl? Tell Daddy,” he coaxed, and I blushed.
“I want…” I began, and a sudden feeling of shyness surged inside me.
“Do you need Daddy to make love to you, Cami-girl?” he whispered suggestively. His breath flittered along the skin of my thighs, tickling me just enough to make me tremble.
“I… no… not that,” I stammered.
His hand cupped my pussy and his thumb started circling my clit, teasing me and I whined openly with my increasingly fevered desire. He didn’t stop until I was just on the cusp of orgasm and then he took his touch away again. I wailed, my body shaking with restrained passion.
“What do you need, little girl?” he began again, his voice quickly becoming firm, and my desire catapulting into the heavens. I opened and closed my mouth several times, just trying to get the words out and utterly failing for what felt like forever. His hand stayed in position, and I expected him to spank me there at any moment, but he never did.
That both caused me to sigh with relief and moan in disappointment.
“Fuck me, Daddy,” I finally managed to whisper. My face was probably beet red by this point, and I tried to hide it by turning my head, but he quickly cupped my cheek and made me look him straight in the eye.
“Daddy had planned on being gentle with you tonight, Cami-girl,” he said simply, searching my eyes for answers.
“I don’t want gentle, Daddy. I just want you. I want us,” I whispered. My cheeks only grew hotter with shame.
“Are you sure, little girl?” he questioned.
“Yes, Daddy,” I nodded.
He climbed off the bed and stood there, staring down at me as he unbuttoned his slacks. He pushed them down his hips with his underwear until they fell to the floor. Without hesitation, he stepped out of them and climbed back onto the bed with me. His cock was so hard. I wanted to wrap my hands around it. I wanted to take it in my mouth, but most of all, I wanted it sinking deep inside me so roughly that it hurt.
I shivered as I watched him, nervously wanting what I’d asked for and afraid of it at the same time. But I knew I was safe with him. I would always be safe with him no matter what.
A love like ours was truly special. Together, it felt like everything was possible. I knew he was thinking the same as he stared into my eyes.
His cock pressed up against my soaked entrance. His lips descended to possess mine, kissing me gently and I moaned softly into his mouth.
He thrust inside me so hard that I screamed his name, and he swallowed every second of my pain.
He showed me how much he needed me with every hard agonizing thrust, gripping my hips and using them as leverage so roughly that I knew I would bear the marks from his hands for days to come.
I liked that.
He showered me with pain, pleasure, and his love. I took everything he gave me and begged for more, over and over again.
This was us. This was our love, and it was perfect.
Six months later
I’d probably… no… most definitely fucked up this time. Like really screwed up. The kind of fuckup that would result in me naked and my ass bright red and extremely sore in just a little while.
I was in so much trouble.
Ever since the day of the press conference, I’d had my fair share of trips over Mason’s knees for various reasons, most of them being my own sassy mouth because I knew how much he liked reminding me of my place. Most of them were fun, even when he spanked me just a little harder than I expected, but they always ended up with the two of us tangled in the sheets, both exhausted and utterly satisfied by the time we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
He’d been true to his word. He hadn’t run for office and hadn’t tried to hide my existence, not even once. He’d taken me on dates out in public where people could see us. Sometimes I saw paparazzi taking pictures of us and when he noticed them too, he would often pull me in for a kiss just to show the world that he didn’t care what they thought when it came to me. I adored the way he spoiled me with gifts and surprise trips, but my favorite thing in the world was when he decided to skip work for a day to spend it with me.
Ever since the press conference, I’d been receiving requests for interior design jobs across the state. I’d been taking online classes and traveling into New York City once a week for in-person lectures at the School of Art & Design. I insisted on taking the train into the city sometimes even though I had access to Mason’s driver because I’d made a few new friends who commuted from the same general area, and it gave me time to spend with them.
It had gone well since the beginning of the semester, at least until yesterday.
I’d missed the train and gone to my friend’s house for a late dinner. I’d forgotten to call and had mistakenly left my phone on silent. We ended up watching a movie and I fell asleep on the couch. When I’d woken up the next morning, I finally remembered to check my phone and found several missed calls, along with a text message to go outside and get into the waiting car immediately.
When I’d climbed into the backseat and the driver had closed the door behind me, my phone rang once more, and I answered it nervously.
“Little girl,” Mason began, and I cringed at the sternness in his voice.
“Daddy, I’m sorry!” I exclaimed and the story of the whole afternoon fell out of me in one long breath. He was silent on the other line, listening intently until I was finished.
“When I agreed to allow you to take the train in and out of the city, what rule did you agree to, Cami?” he asked firmly.
“That I was to call you immediately if anything happened,” I answered guiltily.
“Did you call me, little girl?”
“No, Daddy,” I whispered nervously. The car pulled away and started driving in the direction of home.
“Do you think Daddy was worried when his little girl didn’t come home last night?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I replied, ashamed. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I really didn’t,” I added. I knew it wouldn’t help, but I wanted him to know that anyway.
“What needs to happen when you break a rule this important, little girl?” he asked gently, and I swallowed hard. I closed my eyes, knowing that I was in more trouble than I had ever been in before and that both made me exceedingly scared and aroused at the same time.
“I need to be punished, Daddy,” I whispered. “Please. I’m so sorry. It was a mistake.” I tried to backpedal. I knew it wouldn’t change anything, but I needed to try anyway.
“I know, my little girl. I’ve already forgiven you,” he assured me. His kindness made my heart swell, but the fluttering in my belly wouldn’t go away.
“I love you, Daddy. I’m really sorry,” I whispered.
“Daddy loves you so very much, little girl. You know that, don’t you?” he coaxed.
“Yes, Daddy. I do know that,” I admitted.
“Rick is going to bring you home, little girl. When you arrive, you will go straight to our bedroom and wait there for me. I might be in a meeting for a short while after you come home, but when I finish, I will come to you, hug and kiss you, and make sure you know just how much I love you before I take you over my knee and give you a very real punishment spanking for breaking a rule this important,” he explained.
I must have made a frightened sound because he cleared his throat.
“It’s alright, sweet girl. Daddy loves you so very much,” he announced.
“Please, Daddy. I’m sorry,” I tried again.
“Everything is going to be okay, sweet girl,” he answered softly, and I hung my head, knowing that my punishment would happen whether I liked it or not.
“Will you hold me after?” I finally asked.
“Of course, little girl. I will hold you for as long as you need, do you understand me?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I replied, chewing my lip anxiously.
“I need to get back to work, Cami-girl, but Daddy is looking forward to seeing you very soon,” he continued.
“I love you, my Daddy,” I whispered.
“I love you too, my little girl,” he answered, and I sighed as I lowered my phone to my lap. I spent the rest of the car ride wishing I’d just thought to check my phone or that I’d thought to call him on the way to my friend’s place. I should have thought to at least send him a text or something to let him know what happened.
When the car pulled into our driveway, I just sat there for a moment before I summoned the courage to get out. I trudged up the porch steps slowly, making my way inside as quietly as I could. I stopped into the kitchen only long enough to get a glass of water and bring it with me into the bedroom.
I slipped off my shoes and set down my backpack on a nearby chair. With a nervous rattling sigh, I sat down on the bed and waited. I hung my head, starting only when I heard the telltale sound of Daddy’s footsteps coming down the hall. I pulled my knees into my chest and wrapped my arms around them protectively as his massive frame came through the door. He saw me and his face softened.
“Come here, my sweet girl,” he said gently, and I practically flew off the bed to dive into his waiting arms. He wrapped me up in them and kissed the top of my head. He held me for several long moments in silence and my nerves settled a little bit.
“You worried me, Cami-girl,” he began, and I hid my face in his chest.
“I’m so sorry I forgot to call and tell you about what happened,” I whispered anxiously.
“I had your phone tracked late last night when you didn’t pick up,” he explained, and I curled my shoulders against him, wishing I could go back in time and change the whole evening.
“I forgot to turn it off silent,” I confessed.
“If you hadn’t been at your friend’s place, I would have come and gotten you myself, but I thought it better to deal with you here at home rather than on the car ride back,” he continued a bit more sternly, and I trembled the slightest bit against him.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I tried again, and he took my shoulders gently in his hands and pushed me back just enough so that I could see his face.
“I know you’re sorry, little girl, but having a daddy like me sometimes means that you get real punishment spankings when you’ve been naughty, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I replied, feeling sorrier for myself with every passing minute.
“You know Daddy wouldn’t punish you so harshly if he didn’t care for you so much, don’t you, little girl?” he pressed.
“I know you care, Daddy,” I answered.
“Tell me again what needs to happen then, my sweet little girl,” he pushed.
“You need to punish me, Daddy,” I muttered. He pulled me in to kiss my forehead and I swallowed hard.
He slowly stripped me of my shirt and bra first.
“Hands on your head,” he instructed, and I shakily obeyed. He took down my jeans but left my panties in place at least for now. My near nakedness made me feel even smaller, but I was more worried about what was to come than my own embarrassment. He rolled up his sleeves slowly, revealing his strong forearms inch by inch.
It made the whole thing feel even more serious.
He walked over to his nightstand and opened the drawer. He removed something in a cloth bag and walked over to stand in front of me. He slipped the object out of the purple velvet fabric, revealing a dark wooden paddle made of swirling cherry wood. It was similar in shape to the back of a hairbrush, only a little bigger. It was about as thick as my thumb.
If I didn’t know what it was about to be used for, I might have thought it pretty.
“Hold out your hands, Cami-girl,” he instructed. When I did, he placed the paddle in my waiting palms. It wasn’t as heavy as I expected it to be, but its surface was cool and hard, and I whimpered, knowing that it was going to sting very much when he put it to its intended use.
“I had this made especially for you, my naughty girl. You’re so very special to me and Daddy intends to remind you of that today so that you never forget it again,” he continued. He sat down on the bed. “Now come here and stand in front of Daddy.”
I walked over to him, both wanting to go to him and feeling like I was approaching my doom. He took the paddle from my hands and placed it down on the bed. He took my fingers in his and squeezed them gently. His gaze sought out mine and I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I dove into his lap. His arms surrounded me as I wrapped mine around his waist.
“Will you hold me for just a minute first?” I whispered.
“Of course, my sweet girl,” he answered firmly, and he squeezed me a bit tighter. I laid my forehead against his chest. I breathed in the woodsy scent of his cologne and lost myself in the warmth of his steady embrace.
I was nervous about the punishment, but I felt safe because it was with him. I loved being with him. I adored being his little girl and having him as my daddy. He took care of me like no one ever had before and I cherished every moment of that.
I knew I would love him even more for doing this too.
I pulled back just enough to kiss his cheek.
“When you’re ready, stand back up and stand in front of Daddy. No rush. I’ll hold you for as long as you need, Cami-girl,” he murmured. His lips brushed against my forehead and my heart leapt into my throat.
I breathed slowly a few more times before I willed up the courage to do as he asked. He took my hands once again. His thumbs caressed the curves of my wrists in soothing circles.
“Daddy cares so very much for you, little girl. I know you didn’t mean to, but you caused me to worry when you didn’t come home. I was hurt that you didn’t call me,” he began.
I felt so very small and terribly guilty. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I replied, my voice almost inaudible.
“Sometimes when you’re naughty, Daddy has to take you over his knee to remind you that you’re his little girl, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said, fidgeting.
“Sometimes, he spanks you to make your pretty little pussy wet, but there are other times he spanks your bare little bottom hard enough to teach you a lesson,” he continued.
“Daddy… Please,” I begged.
“You trust Daddy to decide when you need that kind of punishment, don’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whined. He was right. I did trust him to decide something like that. His care and devotion to take care of me like that made me feel secure and safe and it was incredibly special to me, just like I knew it was to him.
“You deserve a very hard spanking, don’t you, little girl?” he asked, and his fingers held mine as if they never wanted to let go.
“Yes, Daddy… I… I deserve a hard spanking,” I sputtered.
“I think we should get that out of the way now, my sweet girl,” he coaxed, and I nodded, no longer capable of speaking. I looked fearfully at the paddle beside him.
“Daddy is going to start with his hand, little girl. Does that make you feel better?” he asked.
For some insane reason, it did. I lifted his hands to my lips and kissed his knuckles.
“It does, Daddy,” I whispered.
I stared down at his hands, mesmerized by them.
In Daddy’s hands, I was safe and protected. Some days they would pleasure me. Other days they would hold me, but today they were going to punish me.
Very gently, he pulled me over one knee. With his other leg, he pinned me into place so I couldn’t kick or squirm away from what was to come. I swallowed hard. He’d never used this position with me before, so it made me especially nervous. He grasped my panties and slowly dragged them down, revealing my vulnerable backside gradually enough to make my heart pound.
His palm settled on my bottom while his other hand pressed down on my hip.
“Tell Daddy in your own words why you are about to be punished, little girl,” he stated, his voice taking on a sternness that hadn’t been there before.
“Because I broke our rule, Daddy,” I whimpered.
“That’s only part of it, little girl. Why did Daddy give you that rule?”
“Because you care about me, Daddy,” I wailed. I hid my face in our comforter. With increasing nervousness, I drummed my toes on the floor because that was pretty much the only thing that I was capable of. In response, he repositioned me so that my feet could no longer reach the carpet beneath me.
“That’s right, Cami-girl,” he pressed. “Daddy cares so very much about you and sometimes that means spanking your bare little bottom until it’s bright red and very sore.”
His fingers kneaded my flesh, almost like he was preparing it for what was to come. Even though I was apprehensive, I could feel my arousal brewing. My clit pulsed hard several times and I gasped into the quilt as his fingers delved between my legs. His fingertips slid along my flesh, and it was then I recognized that I was soaked.
“After your spanking is over and Daddy has held you in his lap for as long as it takes for your tears to dry, he is going to make sure you come very, very hard for him,” he promised, and I moaned softly in anticipation. His hand slid away, and I pouted a little bit before it returned to my vulnerable upturned backside.
“It’s time, little girl,” he added, and I whimpered. As hard as this was going to be, I knew I needed this. I needed the visceral feeling of his hand striking my backside, of his fingers on my skin reminding me that I was his, that he cared, and that he loved me so much that he would spank me like this.
“Please punish me, Daddy,” I whispered. His hand squeezed my hip gently, pushing me down firmly enough to remind me that he would hold me in place securely for as long as he needed to. My spanking was about to start, and I wasn’t going anywhere until he decided it was over.
Sometimes, he started slow, just smacking hard enough to lightly sting, but not today. He laid into me from the very first smack. Instantly, I bit the inside of my cheek to keep quiet, but there was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t be able to keep that up for long.
His palm was enormous, so broad that it covered almost the entirety of either bottom cheek with every hard smack. He started at the fullest part of my ass and worked both up and down from there. He punished from the tops of my cheeks all the way down to just below mid-thigh. I couldn’t really kick or squirm away from him. He was so much bigger and stronger than me. There would be no escape, not until he decided that I’d had enough.
Even though that was scary, there was comfort in that too because I knew I would always be safe with him. The spanking would be painful, and I feared the paddling to come would be far worse, but I knew he would never really hurt me because he loved me.
His palm peppered my backside harder and faster. A particularly stinging smack across my thigh made me cry out and I slapped my hand over my lips to keep myself quiet, but to no avail. His hand was harsh and constant, teaching me a hard lesson with every strike. I whimpered, knowing this was only the beginning and already it was hurting so much more than I thought it would.
“Daddy, please!” I begged quietly.
The spanking didn’t stop. He didn’t even pause for a moment. If anything, my punishment just got harder and faster after that. I whined and cried, but his hand was relentless.
The burning sting was hot from the start. I tried to be brave and take it as gracefully as I could, but it wasn’t long before I started to struggle. His hold was firm and secure. I didn’t really move much at all, and the spanking just went on and on despite everything I did to try to escape it. He started punishing the tops of my thighs and I whimpered loudly before he finally paused. I felt him lean to the side and I cried out knowing what was about to happen next.
“Please! I won’t forget again, Daddy!” I exclaimed, wanting to do or say anything to avoid the paddle. I hadn’t been spanked by anything like it before except for the wooden spoon. That had stung far more than I’d thought possible, and the paddle was that much more intimidating.
The cool surface slid over my scorched backside and my stomach pitched down to the tips of my toes. I tensed almost immediately, and he released my hip just long enough to circle soothing touches against my lower back. I worried my bottom lip incessantly.
“This next part is going to hurt, little girl, but you need it to hurt so you never forget how much Daddy cares for you again,” he explained gently.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whimpered into the quilt, trying to find whatever courage was inside me. My fingers were trembling, and I gripped the fabric, making a tight enough fist to turn my knuckles white.
“Give me your hand, little girl,” he instructed softly. Tentatively, I released the blanket with my right hand and reached behind my back. His fingers interlaced with mine. I wasn’t sure if it would keep me from reaching back, but it was comforting to have his hand in mine all the same.
He squeezed it tight, and the first smack of the paddle fell. It stung so much it took my breath away. I squealed and tried to fight my way out of his hold, but the only thing that ended up happening was a second spank with the terrible thing.
I wailed and then my paddling started in earnest.
There was no keeping quiet, no taking it gracefully, and no being brave. I was simply a little girl over Daddy’s knee getting a hard paddling because I’d been naughty. My feet couldn’t reach the floor. I couldn’t kick or squirm my way out of this.
There was nothing but my bare stinging bottom and that paddle.
Each swat felt like I’d been stung by a million bees all at the same time. Both the wooden spoon and his belt seemed like nothing compared to the heavy burning agony that came with my new punishment paddle.
He spanked all over my bottom and my thighs just like he had with his hand, but it was so much worse. It was a sharp agony that bit into my punished flesh over and over again without pity and without remorse. It was terrible and I wanted it to end almost as soon as it began.
“Daddy! Please. I’m so sorry. Please, Daddy,” I howled, but the paddle never stopped.
There was nothing for me to do now but surrender. My eyes watered, fully taking in the fact that I was pinned over Daddy’s knee getting the hardest spanking of my entire life and he was the one deciding how long, how hard, and when it would end, not me.
I blinked several times, trying to hold back my tears but when he started paddling the place where my thighs met the lower curve of my bottom cheeks exclusively, I lost any semblance of control I had left.
A few particularly hard swats took my breath away and when I finally managed to pull in another, it came out with a strangled sob. I started crying for real after that, only slightly aware of the fact that the paddle had slowed a bit. Each swat was harder than before, as if it was painting the lesson across my bottom so that it sank in deep enough to reach my soul. I sobbed harder when he put the paddle aside and finished my punishment with a long hard spanking with his hand.
I blubbered my apology over and over again. I don’t really know what I said to be honest, just that I begged and pleaded for his forgiveness as I cried. My tears ran down my cheeks in rivers and my body shook with every sob.
Once it was finally over, Daddy moved quickly, lifting and gathering me in his arms so that I was sitting in his lap. I curled up against him, holding onto the fabric in his shirt as I cried.
“It’s okay, little girl. Daddy’s got you,” he crooned.
“I’m so sorry for being a bad girl, Daddy,” I wailed.
“You’re not bad, Cami-girl. You’re Daddy’s good girl always,” he countered, and I whimpered as his arms held me tight. I sniffled, trying to gather myself.
His kisses showered over the top of my scalp, to my forehead, to my cheeks and my lips. He kissed away my tears and I gasped, my emotions raw. The hand that had spanked me so very thoroughly wrapped around the back of my head, holding me close and not letting go.
“I love you, Daddy,” I whispered when my tears finally stopped.
“I love you too, little girl. I love you so much, but you know that, don’t you?” he said softly, and I nodded against his chest.
I did know. I knew that deep down in the very depth of my ravaged soul.
When my crying finally stopped, his finger lifted my chin and he captured me in a burning kiss that left me gasping for air. I squirmed against his chest as the events of the day started to take its toll on me. Even though I’d fought and sobbed through my spanking, I was just as soaked as ever. Now that there was no more stinging paddle to contend with, my clit was throbbing with endless fire and as if he could read my mind, he slipped one hand between my thighs to discover just that.
I blushed hard.
“What’s this, my naughty girl?” he asked pointedly, and I whined with needy shame.
“Daddy, please…” I whispered, thoroughly embarrassed.
“Are you ready to come for Daddy?” he asked, and I chewed my lip, feeling naughtier than ever with my bottom bright red and sore and my pussy this wet.
“Yes, Daddy,” I answered hoarsely.
“Climb off Daddy’s lap and bend over the bed,” he instructed.
I was far too excited at the prospect of an orgasm that I didn’t hear the twinge of firmness that had returned in his voice. He offered me his hand as I slowly made my way to my feet. My panties were tangled around my ankles, and he reached down, helping me step out of them with incredible gentleness.
Our bed was tall, so I had to climb on top of it a little so that my hips were positioned just right for him. I blushed, thinking about all the times he’d fucked me this way. It always made him so hard to see my bare bottom spanked red as he used my pussy as roughly as he saw fit.
His hand settled on my lower back, and he cleared his throat. I stilled. His hold on me was harder than usual, almost like he was pinning me in place again.
“Daddy thought long and hard about your punishment, little girl,” he began, and a sudden sense of foreboding settled over me.
I stayed silent.
“The paddling was only the first part of your punishment, Cami-girl. What comes next will ensure that you never forget that your daddy cares about you again,” he scolded, and I went to push up from the bed. He pressed me back down.
“Daddy, what’s happening?” I asked nervously.
“Who do you belong to, my little girl?”
“You, Daddy. I belong to you,” I answered, my voice trembling.
He reached over to open the drawer of his nightstand. He reached inside and grabbed what looked like a small bottle. It was only when he grasped my sore stinging cheeks and spread me open that I realized his true intentions.
He simply poured lubricant over my exposed bottom hole.
“Reach back and hold yourself open for Daddy,” he instructed. When I didn’t obey, he spanked my pussy several times, the stinging pain of his palm soon matching the intensity of the paddle. In a show of self-preservation, I rushed to put my arms back. I cried out when I grasped my sore bottom cheeks, holding them open for him obediently in the end.
My whole body shook with anticipation.
His finger touched me, and I tensed. Slowly, he spread the lubricant over my tight rim. I whined when he pushed a single digit inside me. He wasn’t exactly gentle, and it pinched hotly for a few seconds before my body started to open a little bit for him. I was really nervous. He’d used plugs and his fingers inside me before, but I knew that he wasn’t going to use either of those right now.
He was going to fuck my bottom this time.
“Daddy told you that you were going to come very hard for him after your spanking, didn’t he?”
“Yes Daddy, but I thought…” I gasped.
He reached between my thighs and started teasing my clit. I was so wound up that my legs started trembling almost immediately and I moaned with desire. I knew he was looking at my bottom hole. He was still touching it too, and I couldn’t forget that as he teased me.
“Daddy is going to finish your punishment by fucking this pretty virgin hole, little girl,” he growled, and my clit pulsed under his aggressive touch. His two fingers pumped in and out of me.
“Please! Let me come another way,” I pleaded shakily.
“The only way you’re going to come for Daddy is with his cock buried deep inside your ass, little girl,” he replied, his voice so sharp and firm that I knew there was no room for negotiation, which only made my arousal spike higher.
I shuddered hard. He kept teasing me, making my body spiral with feverish heat and I tried my best to take it even though it was so utterly shameful.
I’d known that I’d be taken this way at some point. He hadn’t made it a secret that he enjoyed looking and touching me there, that when the time was right, he would fuck me there too. I’d had a number of orgasms with his hands between my thighs as he described how he would claim my virgin bottom for the first time, that it would hurt, that it would be rough and how my little cries would make his cock even harder with every thrust.
I always came really hard when he did that to me.
But now with my first bottom fucking looming so terribly close, I was trembling with anxious arousal. I held my bottom open as he pulled his fingers free, only to cry out when I heard him unclasp his belt and lower his zipper.
“You should know that Daddy is going to enjoy this very much, little girl. He’s been looking forward to punishing you here for a long time,” he growled, and my clit pulsed heavily. The heat of his cock pressed against my asshole for a long moment, as if he was letting the inevitability of my fucking there really sink in.
He grasped my bottom cheeks with his hands and spread me open impossibly wide.
“You may let go now. Daddy is going to take it from here, naughty girl,” he murmured, and I drew my hands forward. I held onto the fabric in front of me, becoming increasingly nervous about what was to come.
“Daddy,” I wailed. My pussy felt like it was burning up with heat.
“This is going to hurt, little girl,” he warned, and he thrust inside me just enough so that the head of his cock speared into me. I cried out in shock, as my body fought him. He stretched me open, his cock like a red-hot poker. Burning agony spiraled around my asshole, surging deep into my core. Pain sizzled up and down my spine as he thrust into me roughly enough to force another few inches of his cock inside me.
My body revolted, tightening around him over and over again despite everything I tried to stop it. With every clench, the agony scalded that much hotter, and he still wasn’t fully inside me. His cock was so much bigger than his fingers or any of the plugs he’d used on me before, and I was in no way prepared to take him, especially like this.
He let go of my bottom and grabbed ahold of my hips, using my body as leverage to thrust inside me again.
I cried out. This pain was so much different than his hand, the belt, the spoon, or even the paddle. This was deeper, more endless and consuming. There was no choice except for me to just take it until my body opened up for him.
With every rough thrust, I doubted it would.
Every fierce stroke was painful and when he finally slammed forward hard enough to sink the entirety of his length inside me, I gasped and suffered through the most agonizing moment of all.
I was so full of him.
“Who do you belong to?” he growled.
“You, Daddy!” I squeaked and he pulled out of my bottom only to slam in hard again.
“Do you think you’ll forget how much Daddy cares about you again?” he asked.
“No, Daddy,” I wailed.
He thrust inside me several times. There was no escape for me. The pain burned red hot for a while longer before it finally crested with a stinging pinch to a more gradual ache, but it never really stopped hurting.
“Good,” he snapped, and he slammed his hips forward cruelly. There was no romance or softness about the way he took my bottom after that. This was a punishment fucking and he made sure I knew it. His pelvis slapped against my punished ass, spanking my bottom in a much more shameful way.
“Daddy,” I moaned.
“Reach a single hand beneath you and tease your clit. It’s time you learned how a naughty little girl comes for Daddy when she needs to be punished,” he growled, and I cried out at a brutally ruthless thrust.
“It hurts, Daddy,” I cried.
“It’s supposed to, little girl. Now do as you’re told,” he warned, and I whimpered as I reached beneath my hips. I was wet, so shamefully soaked that I knew it wouldn’t take much more for me to come. I jerked my hand away for a moment and he slammed into me so hard that I cried out immediately. I put my fingers back just as quickly, not wanting to earn anything worse than I already had.
“I know how wet you are. I know my little girl likes it rough. You like it when it hurts, but you love when Daddy has to punish you. You always come the hardest when Daddy has to teach you a hard lesson,” he said darkly. His enormous frame surrounded me, making me fully aware of just how much power he had over me right now.
I would never admit it, but he was absolutely right.
I didn’t have to though because my body told him. Every muscle inside me tightened and he chuckled knowingly.
“You may come as many times as you like, little girl, but know this. Daddy is going to take his time and enjoy this tight little hole for as long as he pleases. By the time he’s done with you, you’re going to be very sore and very sorry you were such a naughty girl to have to be dealt with this way,” he whispered. He punctuated every word with a hard stroke, making me squirm and cry beneath him.
His movements were aggressively harsh, which only facilitated my dancing fingers on top of my clit.
“I love the way this reluctant little hole is gripping my cock, naughty girl. I’m going to have to punish you this way more often,” he warned, and my pussy burned with needy fire. I blushed, thinking how he wasn’t filling there, how he was using a much more shameful place instead.
My first orgasm burst over me with the force of a sudden summer storm. It was tumultuous and savage, full of a powerful energy that sizzled through my veins. The endless thrall of bliss was overwhelmingly consuming, gripping me with a raw intensity that I couldn’t escape.
That first orgasm was ecstasy.
The ones that followed were not.
The second orgasm was pleasurable, but the painful soreness in my asshole made it both intense and frightening in the same breath. The third one was even more agonizing, but I suffered through them anyway.
He never stopped fucking my bottom as hard as he wanted. His use of me was rough and vicious, leaving me with the knowledge that I would be sore there for a long time after my punishment finally ended.
When I came a fourth time, I was stammering through one apology after the next. The pleasure was so vast and raw that I started to scream. White-hot ecstasy transformed into deliciously biting agony. It was as if I was falling and there was no end in sight.
The paddle had been terrible.
But this was worse.
“Please, Daddy. Please. I’ll be your good girl. Please,” I pleaded. I begged, but his use of me never slowed and I wailed as another orgasm inevitably started billowing up inside my core again.
I feared it more than anything.
I closed my eyes, finally coming to the full understanding that pleasure could be just as punishing as a spanking. It was more shameful, deeper, and that much rawer than a trip over his knee.
I would never forget how this felt. Ever.
“One more, little girl. Come hard for Daddy while he punishes your naughty little asshole with his cock,” he demanded, and I cried out as he fucked me impossibly harder.
My inner walls fluttered in anticipation of that orgasm.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I wailed.
“I know, little girl. Your punishment is almost over. Now come hard for me,” he commanded, and my body obeyed with vicious intensity.
I shattered so hard that I saw stars. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I screamed through the delicious pain, feeling my entire body quake with my surrender. He roared, jerking roughly into me. Each thrust made my body pinch hard in agony and I cried when the first hot spurt of his cum pelted inside of me. I shook with emotion as he took my final hole for himself.
By the time the powerful sensations began to fade, I was so overtaken with emotion that I started to sob.
He pulled free of me and gathered me in his arms. He laid me down in bed and curled up beside me, surrounding me with all that was him.
“That’s my good girl. Let Daddy hold you now,” he murmured.
He held me for as long as I needed. He showered me with soft kisses as my tears dried, and I snuggled closer to him.
“I love you, my little girl,” he whispered gently.
“I love you too, Daddy,” I said happily. I found true and utter bliss in his arms in those moments.
“When Daddy first bought this property, he only expected to get a house, but he got so much more than that, didn’t he, little girl?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I blushed.
“What else did I get, my little girl?” he pushed.
“Me, Daddy,” I answered shyly.
“That’s right. You’re so much more than Daddy’s property, little girl. You’re his entire world.”
He grasped my left hand and slipped something on my ring finger. I gasped when I looked down to see a massive princess cut diamond ring sparkling in the residual sunlight slipping through the blinds. It fit me perfectly and I stared down at it in awe.
“And soon, my beautiful Cami-girl, you’ll also be my wife.”
I squealed with glee, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“So, what do you say, my little girl?” he asked.
“Yes, Daddy!” I exclaimed. I didn’t even have to think about it. Not even for a second.
I would be his in every sense possible.
His lover. His little girl. And soon, his wife.
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