The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) 📕

aftermath, a licking flame that soothes instead of consuming, but I can still feel it with each ragged breath.

“Forget something, baby doll?” he whispers after several minutes of quiet, punctuated by our breathing and his playlist, currently Christina Aguilera’s cover of “Beautiful.”

“Muh-uh?” I can’t think of my own name, much less something I’ve forgotten.

“I didn’t hear a ‘please’ before, or a ‘ta’ after.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whisper breathlessly, in part because I’m still remembering how to breathe normally and in part because he’s really, really heavy. “Ta very much for my orgasms.”

“Little late, sweetheart, but I think we’ll save your punishment for the morning. Thank you for the osso bucco sex, baby doll. You ready for a cup of tea?”

I twist my neck so I can peer up at him, confused by the non sequitur. At my owl-eye, he chuckles and lifts off me, slowly withdrawing. The touch of cool air across my sand-blasted skin makes me whimper. I draw up into a sticky puddle on the towel, blinking up at him, while he strokes my arm.

“Tea?” he asks again. “I got you peppermint.”

He did? “Yes, please, Daddy.”

“You want to wait here while I make it or do you want to come downstairs with me? I can carry you if you want.”

I inch over and hold my arms up as much as I can, which gets them just to wrist-height above my chest.

Logan chuckles and kisses the tip of my nose. “Someone is very cute when she’s covered in afterglow.”

That’s a game I can play. “You, Daddy.”

“Two guesses, and neither of them is me.”

“Still you, Daddy,” I tell him.

“Still not me, you silly baby. Stay there. I’m going to get my robe.”

He slides out of bed. How does he have so much energy after that deranged werewolf sex? His neck and chest are a little flushed, and his cock is redder than if he’d been jerking off with sandpaper, but otherwise he doesn’t even look like he’s sweating. It’s not fair. I’m a puddle of goo and he could have just come in from a refreshing stroll.

“I don’t like you, Daddy,” I tell him.

He lifts an eyebrow. “You seemed to like me a minute ago.”

“I did like you then, but I don’t like you now. You’re unfair.”

“Am I?” He shrugs into his robe. “Let’s see how unfair you think I am when I paddle your ass for breaking my rules.”

“Unfair.” I stick my lower lip out at him. “And a giant meanie.”

He tosses the edges of the towel over me like he’s folding up a burrito, pulling up one edge between my legs so I feel diapered. Then he scoops me up, tight against his chest, my legs around his waist, holding me like a baby koala. Just like he let me cling to him during sex. My brain short-circuits.

“Why am I unfair?” he asks.

“You’re not so unfair right now,” I manage, melting into his hold.

“No, you like being held this way, don’t you, fluffball?” He slides his forearm under my butt, holding me securely, and strides out of the room. “I’ll ask one more time and you can be sure I’ll be adding licks to your paddling for each time you fail to answer me, why am I unfair?”

I blow a raspberry in his neck, which has him barking with laughter and nearly dropping me. I squeal and cling tighter.

“You fucking naughty little monkey. You won’t be able to sit down for a month. Answer my question.”

“You’re unfair because you’re not even hot and sweaty after all that and I’m gross and covered with stuff.”

He chuckles and squeezes me so tight I gasp. “Covered with stuff, huh? I like you covered with stuff. In fact, next time I might pull out at the end and really cover you with stuff, see if that makes you a little less lippy afterwards.”

“Ick, Daddy.”

He turns onto the stairs and takes one hand from my back to grip the banister. I smack wet kisses on his neck to thank him for being so careful with me.

“Speaking of stuff, baby doll, I should have asked before fucking you bareback and coming in you. I know you’re clean and you know I am, but if you want me to use a condom, for any reason or no reason, now or ever, don’t even think twice before telling me so.”

“Ta, Daddy.” I assumed after he asked for my test results, and showed me his, that he’d want to have sex without a condom. Pretty much all of my Doms have, except Matthew, of course. Until this year, I haven’t been able to: birth control was a struggle for me until my Ob/Gyn recommended the progestin implant I have now. I’m glad I’m able to with Logan.

“I don’t want you to use a condom,” I reassure him.

“Okay, but if you change your mind, don’t be shy about telling me, Emmy.”

Emmy? I love it. Even better than Kitty, which I really liked him calling me and was sorry that he stopped after I told him my real name.

“Can I call you Logie?”

“Fuck no.” He releases the banister at the bottom of the stairs, adjusts me in his arms and hugs me tight to him again. “I think I’ll just carry you around all the time like this. I’ll get you one of those baby-carry things.”

“I can walk all my myself, Daddy,” I huff at him.

“I don’t think you want to put that to the test right now, noodle-legs. Besides, I could cut a hole in the bottom of the carrier and stick my dick up through it and then I could fuck you all the time. I could carry you around impaled on my cock.”

“Okay!” I agree wholeheartedly with that suggestion, bouncing in his arms.

Logan laughs and squeezes me. “See? Daddy has some good ideas.”

“Daddy has lots of good ideas. I like Daddy’s ideas about mandatory condom use in porn, and Daddy’s ideas about my freaky rape fantasy, and Daddy’s ideas about pink towels and purple butt plugs,