The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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βSounds good to me, Daddy. Is it topping from below if I ask for another orgasm?β
βNo, baby doll, itβs communicating what you want.β He stretches again and yawns. βAlthough Daddy decides whether or not to give it to you. Are you worried about topping from below?β
βUh-huh,β I admit. βMatthew used to warn me about it.β
The log around my waist shifts and he starts plucking at the rim of my belly-button, which makes me giggle.
βMmm. Matthew who didnβt fuck you. Were you being bratty to get attention?β
βI donβt actually know.β I wriggle against his warm hand while I consider. βHe just used to warn me not to do it. I wasnβt the way I am with you when I was with Matthew. I was still trying to figure out what it meant to be submissive. I didnβt let my little out the way I do now.β
Logan nuzzles my hair and cuddles me even closer. Iβm going to end up inside his skin if he holds me much tighter. Not that thatβs a bad thing. βIβm not worried about you topping from below, Emmy. Be as bratty as you like. I love finding new spots to smack. Speaking of which, pretty sure I owe you a paddling for being a rude girl last night.β
I was half-hoping heβd forget about that, because as I wake up, Iβm discovering all the sore spots from last night. And there are a lot of them. βDaddy, donβt be a morning meanie.β
Logan chuckles. βNice try. Letβs clean up. No sex with morning breath. Go to the bathroom and do whatever you need to do. When youβre finished come back in here and Iβll take a minute in the bathroom. If you need a drink, thereβs a water bottle on your night table. Anything else you need?β
βNo, Daddy.β
He pulls the covers off me and swats my behind, which smarts in a way that tells me Iβve had a good spanking recently. I wriggle out of bed and skip off to the bathroom, aware of Loganβs eyes on my ass.
In the bathroom, I dance around, washing with the pink washcloth heβs left out for me, brushing my teeth and shaking my ass to the tune of Nelly Furtadoβs βSay It Right,β which I can hear from the bedroom. Mostly, I shake my ass at the tub and the bottle of βCoconut Passion.β Whoever left it there, sheβs not here. She didnβt get stretched over Loganβs knee and spanked with a tawse until she nearly came and then finger-fucked in front of his club brothers. She didnβt have crazy werewolf sex with him and sleep snuggled in his arms and wake up with his morning rocket pressed into her ass. He didnβt buy her pink towels and a purple butt plug, and she didnβt call him βDaddy.β I hug myself and twirl around, immersed a warm golden glow. The analytical part of my brain knows Loganβs just being a good Dom. He cares about topping, not about me.
The little part of my brain, which feels more and thinks much less, is just squealing daddydaddydaddy.
And HIM? That part of my brain is blessedly silent. Not even the snarled hair and under-eye circles reflected in the bathroom mirror cause it to stir. Itβs been battered down into whatever dark hole in my subconscious it comes from by the wonderful, I-got-fucked-so-hard-last-night ache suffusing me.
Once my bladder is empty, my mouth is minty and Iβm not worried anymore about how I smell, even though I really like being called his gingerbread baby, I trot back into the bedroom.
Heβs put his bathrobe on again, which is just so disappointing. I might have to sneak it into my luggage before I leave and shred it when I get home so he canβt wear it the next time I see him. And despite my usual debilitating insecurity, thereβs not even a heartbeat where I wonder if Iβm going to see him again.
He draws me to him and runs his hands down my back to my butt. He gives me a squeeze that has me wriggling against him and sighing at the soreness. Massaging me with those big wolf paws, he murmurs in my ear, βHow tender is this little bum this morning, baby doll?β
I might weasel out of the paddling if I tell him Iβm too sore. But it would be a lie, and honesty is important to me, too. βSore but not too bad, Daddy.β
That gets me his wolfy growl and Iβm glad Iβve told him the truth.
βHave some water while you wait for me, sweetheart. I wonβt be long.β
βYes, Daddy.β
He massages my ass for another minute before he kisses me on the forehead and pads out of the bedroom. I retrieve his horsehair brush and brush out my hair while I cross the room to get the bottle of water. There are more things on the nightstand now, including a black silicon paddle as wide as three of my fingers and as long as my forearm. It looks extremely evil.
I glance over my shoulder in the direction of the bathroom. He said he didnβt want me to stop playing with him, and that he wanted me to let my little out all the time.
The little in me wants to play hide-and-seek.
I take the paddle and push it between the mattress and box-spring of his bed, then smooth out the dark green fitted sheet. I perch on the edge of the bed, on top of where Iβve hidden the paddle, and drink my water.
The music switches over to Christina Aguileraβs βGenie in the Bottleβ and I giggle between sips of water at how appropriate the song is. Despite his mainstream musical taste, I love that Loganβs made a sex playlist for me. Itβs another of those perfect gestures he makes that light me up inside. I just hope heβll keep seeing the things I do in return as fun and playful instead of
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