Reckoning

by Fields, Sara

For a moment, I wavered and then I focused on his instructions and it became infinitely easier.

  “Please, Daddy. Please let me come for you,” I pleaded. I sounded weak. My voice trembled and I wondered if there was a part of me that was broken for saying exactly what he wanted me to say.

  “There, now. Was that so hard?” he asked, and I quivered, refusing to answer.

  He laughed softly.

  “Such a proud little girl,” he purred and there was a hidden message beneath those words that left me reeling with fear. He didn’t continue the thought, but I knew a veiled threat when I heard one.

  “But with Daddy, you’re just a wet and needy little girl, aren’t you?” he pressed.

  A cry of shame died on my lips.

  I hated that he was right. I would never admit it either. Never in a million years.

  “I…” I began, meaning to start arguing with him that he was wrong even though I knew that every word was a lie, and my body was telling him everything but that.

  “You will answer me properly, little girl, or Daddy will be forced to take you over his knee for another very real lesson in obedience,” he said brazenly, and I cringed with fear.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I wailed.

  He cleared his throat. He didn’t even need to say the words to make my anxiety implode inside me. I opened my mouth, and I knew that I was going to say the words he wanted to hear.

  “Yes, Daddy. I’m a wet and needy little girl for you,” I cried, unable to stop the way I quivered with every last breath.

  I hated that it was true. I hated that he got to me like this and that my body was forcing me to deal with things I wasn’t prepared to bear.

  Those infuriating fingers returned to my clit. I expected him to tease me, to torture me until the painful knife of desire scoured into my belly, but he didn’t.

  This time his fingers were steady, sure, and steadfast.

  This time, he forced my pleasure forward. I teetered on that precipice for seconds and then he forced me over the ledge. My lips opened in shock as my pleasure hurtled through me. It closed in on me with frenzied swiftness, closer and closer until I fell into the chasm that bridged pain and pleasure. I lost myself in those feelings.

  A cry fell off my lips and I was only vaguely aware that it sounded more like a moan than anything else.

  My legs trembled and the arm that pinned my back to the wall wound around my waist and held me up. I probably would have fallen if he hadn’t, and I wasn’t ready for how that tenderness played at the dead carcass that was my heart.

  I tried not to focus on that, but it ate away at me anyway no matter how hard I tried to fight it.

  My thighs tensed so hard as bliss raced through me. With nothing but his fingers on my clit, I soared high in the realms of ecstasy for so long that I could have sworn I was lost forever. My spine arched as my pussy ground against his fingers and this time he allowed it. A second orgasm soon followed the first, catching me in its hold and rendering me senseless with passionate desire.

  My screams echoed around me. They sounded almost wild, as if I were a feral animal in heat as I came for him. Everything tensed and then a third orgasm rattled me from the inside out.

  Daddy was in control.

  Daddy was going to decide how many times I came.

  Daddy was going to decide when this would end.

  My body quaked as he forced a fourth release from my trembling form and I soon began to fear just how many more times he was going to make me come.

  His cock was so very hard against my hip. I could feel it throbbing against my skin.

  “Daddy’s going to stroke his cock while making you come for him. You’re not going to stop coming until Daddy’s finished, do you understand, little girl?” he asked, and I couldn’t stop the way his voice make my legs shake.

  When I didn’t answer right away, he pinched my clit hard with his fingers and I cried out as painful pleasure coursed through me.

  “Yes, Daddy. I understand,” I gasped, and he growled his approval in my ear. I could feel his fingers working his cock against my hip. His other hand between my legs didn’t slow and that fifth orgasm shook me straight to the very core.

  The pleasure didn’t stop. It kept forcing its way out of me from somewhere deep within. I hadn’t even known I was even capable of such earth-shattering ecstasy until him.

  I came. Again and again until a painful edge accompanied each release.

  Did he like this? Did he want my orgasms to hurt?

  He showed no signs of slowing down. If anything, he was taking his time and thoroughly enjoying every second of my agonizing pleasure. I could feel his fingers going faster at times and slower at others. As if he knew I was suffering for him, he deliberately prolonged his own pleasure and forced me to come once more.

  My fear approached something of a panic. My legs shook harder. My screams grew louder.

  How much longer was this going to last?

  I’d never met any man with this kind of stamina. Most of them finished within minutes, but not Dean.

  Not Daddy.

  “Please,” I begged.

  “Please what, little girl?” he said with a delicious purr that made my insides quiver.

  He’d said I would keep coming until he did.

  “Please come for me, Daddy,” I pleaded.

  When he chuckled, his breath caressed the tiny hairs of my throat and I shivered hard at the feeling.

  “You want Daddy to come, little girl?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I wailed as another orgasm tore through me. My pleasure had turned to pain and had then transformed into something that was utter desperation.

  “Daddy’s taking his time,” he answered, and I started to wail as I thrashed as I came for him. I struggled to find the balance on the edge, trying to cope with the hurt and the bliss that came from the endless pleasure he was forcing from my body.

  “Please, Daddy,” I whimpered, and I didn’t stop. I begged for him to come. I pleaded for his seed and just when I thought I couldn’t bear any more he groaned with his dark desire.

  “Daddy’s enjoying himself,” he answered.

  Oh… Please…

  “Daddy’s going to come, little girl,” he finally whispered, and my body started to shake once more.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I wailed.

  “You’re going to come one last time for me, long and hard. Daddy wants to hear you scream as he comes,” he demanded, and I shrieked as that last orgasm surged forth at his command.

  “Daddy! Oh! Daddy,” I cried out, my voice something between a wail of anguish and a moan of complete satisfaction.

  I pressed my palms firmly against the stone wall, digging my nails and not finding any purchase whatsoever. I felt as though I was falling, and my body curled toward his. I leaned against him. Maybe it was just to keep myself upright. Maybe it was because I wanted to be near him.

  I didn’t know. I didn’t care.

  I simply kept coming. That final release was so long and hard that I was only vaguely aware of the heat from his cum pelting my backside. It spurted against me several times and I wailed as I watched it drip down onto the stone beneath us.

  With an unexpected sadness, I studied the way the water washed it away. I watched his milky white seed swirl around on the tile floor until it disappeared down the drain.

  For some reason, it seemed to upset me because it wasn’t inside me.

  And that terrified me.

  Chapter 6

  That night, he’d tucked me into his bed. He sat in a leather chair beside me reading a book until I’d fallen asleep and when I woke up the next morning, his hard body was curled possessively around mine.

  I loathed that I liked the feeling of that. For a while I simply laid there in his arms, not moving and barely breathing for fear of waking him. In the last twenty-four hours, he’d turned my world upside down and I relished those few minutes to myself to try to wrestle with the confusing feelings surging inside me.


  I wanted to hate him for it, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I felt something for him that I truly didn’t recognize because I’d never felt it before in my life and I was terrified that it would turn into something everyone else would call love.

  I didn’t want to give him my heart, but I feared it was inevitable. I was petrified that he’d already taken it.

  Eventually though, my stomach growled angrily, and he laughed softly behind me.

  “You’re awake?” I whispered in surprise.

  “Yes. I’ve been enjoying the feeling of my body wrapped around yours,” he murmured, and a warm sensation pulsed through me at his words. The intensity of it caught me off guard and I felt myself blushing as a result.

  Why did he have to be so kind when I knew he could be so cruel? The contrast between the two was shockingly vast and I found myself floundering to take it all in. I was so unsettled, and I didn’t know what to do about it.

  “I’m going to cook breakfast for you this morning, little girl,” he purred.

  I assumed he had people for that. I pulled away enough from him so that I could turn to face him. I wanted to see the look in his eyes when he said those things to me.

  “You’re going to cook me breakfast…” I echoed, and my voice was strained a little bit with my fairly obvious skepticism.

  He grinned.

  “Does that surprise you?” he asked.

  “Yes. I haven’t seen you cook a day in your life,” I countered, and his smirk grew a little wider.

  “Seems there’s a lot about Daddy that you didn’t know, isn’t there?”

  My pussy clenched down hard. I knew what he wanted to hear and this time the words came unbidden. There wasn’t even enough time to stop them before they fell off my lips.

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  I blushed hard as his eyes crinkled with satisfaction. There was a deep-seated desire in his gaze, and it took everything in me not to lean forward and kiss him.

  This wasn’t a romance. It couldn’t be. I wasn’t allowed to be happy like that.

  My life had been chosen for me and love was never to be a part of it.

  That didn’t stop him from kissing me though.

  His fingers gently cupped my face and his thumb drifted across my cheek. His touch was gentle. His lips pressed against mine, slow but confident and I fell prey to that tenderness. I kissed him back with a certain consuming hunger and when he finally pulled away, a breathy sigh of disappointment escaped me.

  I didn’t want to like that, but I did.

  “There’s more where that came from, little girl, but you’re going to have to wait because it’s time for breakfast,” he teased, and I pouted a little.

  “If you’re a good girl, Daddy may just reward you with a mimosa. He remembers how much you liked them,” he added, and I smiled, blushing a little bit more heavily at his recollection. He was right. I did like them very much. I hadn’t had one in so long because he’d been the only one to mix it right.

  I pressed my lips together in a tense line.

  Why did everything have to come back to him?

  “What are you going to cook for me?” I decided to ask, willfully ignoring the way his voice made my body pulse.

  I couldn’t have this. We could never be.

  “Eggs. Toast. Bacon. The usual,” he replied, his voice strangely light.

  My stomach growled again as if it was answering for me. He laughed and the warmth of his body pulled away from mine. I curled the blankets around me in an effort to chase away the chill, but he grabbed them and shucked them away from me just as quickly.

  His dark eyes grazed up and down my body as if he was imagining all the things that he would do with it. I stilled and my nipples hardened under his gaze, making me flush with embarrassment.

  “I’ve missed you in my bed, Willow,” he murmured.

  I couldn’t bring myself to say anything in response. I kept quiet and his face tightened with an edge of sadness before it flittered away into nothing. He nodded toward a closed door across the room, and I narrowed my eyes a little in confusion.

  “That closet is full of clothing in your size. Feel free to wear whatever you like,” he offered. “When you’re done, the kitchen is down the stairs on the first floor. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks,” I replied. I smiled softly, not knowing what else to do.

  He nodded once. Then he turned away and walked out of the room, leaving me to my own devices. I licked my lips and pushed myself up onto my elbows, looking around the room. It was a beautiful space, likely put together by some high-end designer. There were panoramic windows on one side of the room with sheer gray curtains offering some semblance of privacy when it wasn’t really necessary because there wasn’t anything other than the mountains around us.

  Wanting a closer look, I climbed out of bed and padded over to the windows, peering out into the magnificent view that surrounded us. I noticed that there was a small town down below. By my estimation, it would likely take fifteen minutes to walk to. There was a dirt path beside the road that was well covered in many areas that it would be easy to traverse out of the eye of drivers passing by.

  I chewed my lower lip, stowing that information away for later.

  I turned and made my way into the closet. When I opened the door, I gasped at just how big it was. To my right side was a shelving system complete with every kind of shoe I could ever need, from flats to heels to sneakers to hiking boots. There was expensive bras and underwear laid out and that all paled when I saw just how fully stocked the rest of it was. There were dresses, long- and short-sleeve shirts, tank tops, blouses, and that was only the hanging section. There were a multitude of jeans, leggings, cotton drawstring pants, and slacks folded neatly along even more shelves. It was the kind of closet that meant a girl never needed to go shopping again.

  I started moving along the rails and checking the sizes. Every single piece of clothing was my size. As if he’d bought everything in here for me in preparation for my arrival.

  With a heavy swallow, I realized that he probably had. He’d been readying to take me for a long time. This closet was more proof of that than I could ever need.

  The feeling of unsettlement within me deepened.

  Quickly, I picked a simple black shirt and a pair of jeans. I slipped on a light pink pair of panties and a matching bra before I dressed. I slid my feet into a soft dark gray pair of quilted flats that fit like they were made for me.

  Everything fit perfectly. Too perfectly.

  I sighed and left the closet. I’m not sure why, but there was a small part of me that wanted some part of the outfit to not work out.

  I walked down the hall and turned right before proceeding down the stairs into the open living room and kitchen area. The scent of bacon was already wafting throughout the room and my sour mood seemed to ebb for the time being. Dean was dressed in a pair of black lounge pants and a simple burgundy-colored t-shirt. The cotton fabric hugged the firm muscles of his backside and I couldn’t help myself as I took a long look.

  When he made a movement to turn around, I looked away as quickly as I can, hoping he didn’t notice the way my face heated anyway.

  “See something you like, little girl?” he smirked and I blushed harder.

  “I’m starving,” I responded, ignoring his jab to the best of my ability.

  I sat down gingerly on the stool in front of the rather large granite island and put my elbows on the edge. My backside was still slightly sore, and I did what I could to hide that it was. For a while, I just watched him cook quietly. He seemed to know what he was doing, much to my surprise. He oiled the pan before frying up a few eggs and he even kept the bacon that was cooking beside it covered with the lid to keep the grease from flying everywhere.

  It was pretty impressive, actually.

  The toaster dinged and as if he’d planned the timing perfectly, he plated the eggs, a few pieces of bacon, and then the toast seconds after it popped up. He passed over a smal
l jar of peanut butter, jam, and some butter in my direction the moment after he placed the plate in front of me. With a smile, he swiftly salted my eggs and then ground a little pepper on top as well.

  “This looks delicious,” I smiled.

  “Eat up. You’ve earned a good breakfast for sure,” he said, and I turned away with embarrassment at his implication. I stared down at my plate and picked up the toast, deciding that I wanted peanut butter on it. I reached for it and he grabbed it first, twisting it open and handing it to me. I muttered a quiet word of appreciation as I took it. I scooped some out with my knife and spread it over the rich wheat bread in a flourish. Finally, I took a bite and enjoyed the warm taste of freshly baked and toasted bread.

  “So, what exactly are your plans for me?” I asked briskly.

  “You’re going to live here with me as my wife,” he answered.

  “Yeah. I got that. What does that mean? Am I imprisoned in this house? Am I even allowed outside?” I asked. There was a distinctive bitterness in the tone of my words, and I couldn’t hide that even if I wanted to.

  “You’re not my prisoner, Willow, if that’s what you’re asking. It isn’t safe for you to venture far, but it should be for you to go into town if you need anything,” he answered.

  “Good. When can we go?” I pressed.

  He cocked his head.

  “Is there something you need already?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “I’ve just never been to Switzerland.”

  It was the truth. I’d been to a number of cities within the United States and had even been taken on a few quick trips to Mexico and the Caribbean and even further south with some of my previous marks, as well as some interesting beachy locations for the honeymoon, but I’d never spent much time in mainland Europe, especially not in a place like this.

  “I’ll take you into town this weekend,” he offered.

  “You will?”

  “Sure,” he replied with a grin. “It isn’t a particularly big town, but it’s charming and there’s several really good hometown cooking restaurants as well as a few rather quaint shops.”

  I’d definitely never been to anything like that. My marks always seemed to want to impress me with their money and took me to the best of the best.