Reckoning

by Fields, Sara

  It was thick and incredibly long, easily the largest one I’d ever seen on a man. His girth had always been slightly painful for me at first and looking at it now reminded me of that. I had the distinct feeling that Daddy’s cock was going to hurt that much more.

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away as his fingers dipped to graze the length of his cock. I swallowed heavily, my mouth drying as I squirmed a little at the sight. He curled his digits around his thick girth and his length jerked right in front of me.

  This was new. He’d never done this in front of me before.

  My body started to shake with a sort of anxious electricity that wouldn’t go away. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I wanted to see his cock. I wanted to see him come.

  At first, he only lightly grazed his fingers up and down his thickness. Then he started to gradually tighten his grip until he was fully stroking his cock.

  It seemed like he was bigger than I remembered. That much harder.

  I slid my thighs against one another, feeling the remains of the multitude of orgasms he’d taken from me on my skin. The scent of my own arousal was heady even to me and as I watched him pleasure himself, it made it even stronger as I grew even wetter. The longer I watched him touch himself, the more I realized that I wanted to come again.

  Impossible.

  I wanted to touch him. I wanted to curl my fingers around his girth and taste the evidence of his desire for me. I wanted to put my mouth around the head of his cock.

  My body burned with need.

  His cock grew harder, so hard that its natural pink color started to turn purple. He stroked himself faster and my eyes followed every movement like my life depended on it.

  I struggled in my bonds, held captive by the cuffs on my wrists and my jeans around my ankles.

  Almost as if he knew what I was thinking, a smirk edged at the corners of his lips. He knew I wanted him.

  “Lie still, little girl. Daddy is enjoying himself,” he murmured.

  I whimpered softly. My pelvis rocked just a little bit, imagining what it would feel like to have him drive himself inside me with that very hard cock.

  My inner walls fluttered hard at the thought.

  If he asked me to fuck him right now, I knew what I would say.

  By the look in his eyes, he knew what my answer would be too.

  His strokes grew longer. Faster. I grew more desperate with him and when it felt like I couldn’t take anymore, his seed spurted toward me.

  It arced up and landed on my welted bottom and the backs of my thighs. Its searing heat was shocking, and I stilled as more of his cum landed on my scalded flesh.

  He kept stroking himself, ensuring that he pumped every last drop onto me, and I shook, wet and needy as he finished. He reached for me and pushed two of his thick fingers roughly between my lips, forcing me to taste him in the process.

  It was salty and bitter, and I gagged at first, but a mildly sweet aftertaste followed that was far more intoxicating than I cared to admit. I swirled my tongue around those digits, ensuring that I didn’t miss a single drop of his cum.

  I could feel it drying on my skin. Every bit of it.

  A soft cry left my throat.

  “Daddy?”

  My voice broke. It sounded weak and I shivered hard as he tucked his cock away inside his jeans.

  “Shhh, little girl. Daddy’s got you now,” he said quietly.

  He reached for my wrist and carefully unlocked the leather cuff. Quickly, he released the other and then he gathered me in his arms more swiftly than I even thought possible. He sat down on the bed and pulled me into his lap, curling his large form around mine in a protective warm embrace that shattered the last of my defenses.

  I expected him to begin grilling me for answers, but he said nothing.

  Instead, he just held me. Even though my bottom was sore, and my body was exhausted from the ten brutally hard orgasms he’d forced from me, I craved his affection. I wanted those arms around me, and I furled myself even tighter against his muscled form. I pressed my cheek against his shoulder and the gentle beating sound of his heart soothed me.

  The roughness of his beard grazed my forehead and I tentatively reached to brush my knuckles along its surface. I expected him to bat my hand away, but he didn’t. He let me explore him. I dragged my fingers down and circled the collar of his shirt, toying with the chest hair that just escaped it.

  My shivering gradually stopped as I snuggled even closer to him. His arms wound around me, tight and protective and wonderful and so incredibly perfect.

  I’d called him Daddy. Not just once, but several times.

  I flushed so deeply that it felt as though my face had caught flame. I hid it in his shoulder, needing to keep my thoroughly shameful thoughts to myself for the time being. For now, it didn’t matter. The only thing that did was his arms around me.

  Daddy’s arms.

  Chapter 5

  The only thing I could concentrate was how the beat of his heart drummed in concert with mine. Occasionally my body would tremble against him and he’d squeeze me tighter into his chest as a way of showing me that he was there, that he would protect me. When I finally managed to get my panting under control, he slid his fingers up and down the length of my spine, just holding me gently against him.

  I could still feel his seed drying on my thighs and the marks of his belt on my punished backside. He didn’t seem to care that it was likely getting on his jeans. He seemed to know I needed his kindness now and he gave it to me.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I murmured.

  “There’s nothing to forgive, little girl. I forgave you a long time ago,” he answered.

  I didn’t think it was possible, but I curled even closer to him.

  “What happens now?” I whispered, almost afraid of the answer.

  “Now we talk, little girl,” he replied, his voice so firm and resolute that a tiny piece of me demanded I submit to him. I tried to ignore it, but that needling feeling only seemed to grow larger the longer I sat here in his lap.

  “I want to know your reasoning. Why date me for six months, marry me, and wipe me of everything? You’ve never seemed like the type of girl who would be that heartless,” he asked.

  I swallowed heavily. I couldn’t tell him. There was no way in hell I’d survive if anyone else knew the kind of people I worked for and he probably wouldn’t either.

  The Father had people to solve that sort of thing. He had poured endless resources into training me and preparing me for my role in the family, but he wouldn’t hesitate for a second to dispose of me as soon as I proved to be a liability to the organization.

  I was already afraid of what he would do to me when he found out that Dean had ignored his threats and come after me anyway. He’d blame me for being found and taken. It would all be my fault.

  I would receive no sympathy for being his ward all these years. If anything, he’d expect even more from me than he did all the rest.

  I shivered hard, thinking about what would likely come next.

  He’d send the Fixer after me without thinking twice.

  In the family, we all feared the one called the Fixer. She was the one who solved problems. If someone got out of line, she dealt with them, usually with a bullet between the eyes from a block away, but I’d heard stories of other ways that she’d dispose of someone. Poison in your morning coffee. A highly staged death meant to look like a suicide. A tragic house fire. A sudden unexplained heart attack. She did whatever she had to do to make sure her mark ended up dead.

  One thing was certain though. If the Father sent the Fixer for you, your time was limited, and you best get your affairs in order.

  I swallowed again, coming to the awful conclusion of something else.

  The Fixer wouldn’t just come after me. She would come after Dean too. The Father would send her to deal with us both.

  I couldn’t bear that. Even though I should be angry and ashamed of what just happened between Dean and
me, I couldn’t be. He didn’t deserve to die just because I’d fucked up somewhere.

  I couldn’t tell Dean about any of that though. He couldn’t protect me from the family. He especially couldn’t protect me from the Fixer and most certain death. It would be better for him if he just remained in the dark, unknowing and alive and safe.

  I knew what I had to do now. I was going to lie.

  “I needed the money,” I began.

  “You didn’t need the money, little girl. I have more than enough to take care of you,” he answered.

  “Not anymore. I stole it all,” I answered.

  “No, you didn’t,” he replied.

  I stilled against him. That just couldn’t be true.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You only cleared out the accounts Daddy allowed you to know about, little girl. I have a great many more that I kept from you,” he answered.

  “What?” I asked. It wasn’t possible. I’d used all the resources at my disposal, including hackers, a handful of coders, and even a few financial analysts who assured me they’d found it all. I’d walked away with several billion dollars for the family. It was hands down my most lucrative con to date.

  “Yes, little girl. You hardly dented my accounts,” he replied.

  My blood ran cold. He’d kept so much from me. I really didn’t know him at all.

  I cleared my throat. Even knowing this information though, it was still far too dangerous for the both of us.

  “I’ve been doing this for a long time,” I murmured. That much was true.

  He didn’t respond. He just let me talk.

  “I don’t have any family and I’ve been on the run for a long time. I move around the country and I find men that are single, rich, and prime con targets. You were one of those men,” I continued.

  “Who do you work for, little girl? You can tell Daddy,” he coaxed.

  “I work alone,” I answered. I didn’t have any other choice but to lie. I was protecting him.

  He was quiet for a long time, so I finally decided to tell him more. I told him a bit about my process, how I exceled at becoming the person men wanted me to be so that I could make them fall in love with me enough to marry me and give me access to everything they’d ever worked for. I told him everything, except I left out the most crucial part about the fact that I didn’t do it alone.

  It didn’t matter how much money or power or resources that Dean had. He would never be more powerful than the Father.

  Ever.

  Eventually, I ran out of things to say and he was still quiet beside me.

  “You worked very hard to cover your tracks, but I still found you, little girl,” he finally said, and I tensed slightly before I relaxed against him.

  “I know. I don’t know how you did it,” I whispered.

  “That’s going to be my secret, little girl,” he said quietly.

  I fidgeted nervously in his arms.

  “Your other marks might be able to find you the way I did. You’re going to need protection,” he sighed.

  “I can leave the country,” I started.

  “No,” he answered.

  “What do you mean?” I questioned.

  “You’re going to stay with me. You’re Daddy’s little girl now and I’m going to keep you safe,” he said firmly.

  I knew better than to argue, not with the marks of his belt still searing hot across my bottom.

  For now, I would let things lie. It was only a matter of time before I found a way out.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, but this time I didn’t mean it.

  “I want to ask something else, little girl,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Will you tell me your first name?”

  My muscles tensed with nervous apprehension and I pulled away slightly. His arms curled tight and then I realized that I wanted to tell him. Would it be so wrong to give him this little piece of me? I didn’t have to tell him my last name, just the first. He wouldn’t be able to find out anything about me just by knowing that. Right?

  “I…” I began.

  “Daddy would really like to know your name, little girl,” he pushed, a bit more firmly and that tiny part of me demanded that I answer.

  “It’s… My name is Willow, Daddy,” I whispered.

  * * *

  The two of us sat together for a while longer. I didn’t rush to move, and he didn’t either. I didn’t know what more to say, so I didn’t say anything at all for a long time. Finally, he gently helped me to stand on my own two feet and grasped my jeans. He roughly pulled them up into place, not heeding my wincing as the fabric pressed against the welts his belt had left behind. He buttoned them closed and my bottom burned. I swallowed heavily, trying not to think about the fact that I’d earned each and every stripe.

  “Where are we?” I finally whispered.

  “We’re in the lower levels of my mansion,” he replied.

  “I’ve never seen this room before,” I said softly.

  “You’ve never been here,” he declared, leveling me with the darkness of his glare. There was something else there. He knew something I didn’t and that was deeply unsettling all by itself.

  “Where is your mansion located?” I ventured carefully.

  “We’re in the northern Alps. In Switzerland,” he answered. We’d met in Vegas and had a whirlwind romance there where he had a penthouse in the Bellagio. We’d never gone anywhere else. I hadn’t even known he owned any other property outside it.

  With the money he had, I should have.

  “You will remain here as my wife. You will be known legally as Sophia Jackson, the same name you chose when you walked down the aisle to marry me in the first place. You will not leave without permission. If you make an attempt, I will be forced to keep you down here chained to this bed with the marks of Daddy’s cane across your backside instead of my belt,” he warned.

  A quiet whimper escaped my throat.

  A cane?

  He wouldn’t, right? That was just an idle threat. It had to be.

  I chanced a glance up to his face and what I saw there was terrifying. His blue eyes were dark and merciless. It wasn’t just a jest. He was telling the truth.

  Every single word.

  I gulped and nodded, feeling a tremor quiver through my legs. The belt had been enough to make me cry. I had no doubt the cane would too.

  “Answer me properly, little girl,” he pressed.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

  My pussy clenched tightly.

  “Come. I will show you our bedroom. You’d probably like to take a bath, yes?”

  Our bedroom?

  “I would like a bath or a shower or something very much,” I muttered, so off balance that it was beginning to feel deeply troubling.

  He took my hand within his, his massive one dwarfing my much smaller one. He led me forward and I took a step.

  Fuck. My bottom was sore. The fabric of my jeans was so damn unforgiving, stretching tight and putting far too much pressure on my punished flesh. I had the distinct feeling that if I complained I wouldn’t find any sympathy. If anything, he’d probably put me over his knee to remind me that I’d earned every bit of that sore bottom as he made it even sorer.

  He led me up a set of stairs to the ground level and I could see that it was sometime in the evening because the fiery tendrils of sunset were still apparent on the horizon. His windows were tall and clear, showcasing mouthwatering views of the mountains that were far more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.

  I followed him through a sitting room. It was so incredibly well-styled and luxurious that I was almost afraid to touch anything along the way. I wasn’t typically intimidated by money. I’d been around the rich for a long time. I was used to elegant touches and expensive things, but this felt almost like it should be a museum.

  There were life-sized bronze statues that appeared to be priceless ancient relics, tapest
ries that spoke to old vestiges of civilizations long gone, and more modern touches in the paintings hung along the walls. It was all so incredibly beautiful that I just admired it for what it was.

  Dean led me up another flight of stairs and then down an oversized hallway to what appeared to be the master bedroom. It was like we had entered a hotel suite. He didn’t pause and allow me to admire the massive king bed or the soft leather couches next to the large windows or the door that was slightly ajar that appeared to lead to the largest closet I’d ever seen.

  Instead, the two of us entered the bathroom and that took my breath away. I had to blink several times and even considered pinching myself because I almost thought we’d left his house and walked straight into a spa. The floor was the most decadent marble tile I’d ever seen, and the shower looked like a massive grotto of gray rock. Everything was intricately designed and built in a way to mimic the outdoors, down to the waterfall splashing in the corner. There was even a wet, tropical scent that permeated around us that reminded me of coconut and pineapples.

  He turned back toward me with a hungry look in his eyes. He’d never let go of my hand and for some reason that felt special. Kneeling down, he finally released my fingers and traced them down my legs. He took a hold of my ankle and carefully removed my left shoe and then the right. I fidgeted nervously as he proceeded to take off my socks too, leaving my feet bare.

  At least my toes were still painted. I chewed my lip, remembering how I’d thought that the strawberry margarita pink color had been pretty back then while now I just felt silly standing here in front of him.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He chuckled softly and didn’t really answer. Instead, he stood up and grasped the button of my jeans. Deftly, he undid them and slid the zipper down slowly. This time, he was gentler as he pushed my jeans back down, making me feel small and vulnerable as he removed them.

  “Step out of your jeans,” he instructed.

  I obeyed and I didn’t know why.

  My movements became hesitantly automatic and as he pulled my pants from my ankles, I was exceedingly aware of my nakedness from the waist down once again.