For Daddy

by Celia Crown

  “Really?” she asks, her bright eyes wide with wonder.

  Curious little thing, she is. Cute. Tempting to a fault.

  “The human body weight fluctuates over time during a twenty-four-hour period. I’m sure you have learned in school that heat expands and cold contracts.”

  She pouts at the implication, “I know that! I went to school too.”

  I lick my lips, eyes darkening at the plumpness of her pout. “It’s the same principle. You will not have the same measurements during the night as you are in the middle of the day where the sun is the hottest. This instability of temperature will alter your body, and it will, in turn, affect my work.”

  Aria nibbles on her lips. “Okay, but you don’t have to impress me with your Ivy League university, private tutor, and horseback riding training.”

  Nowhere in our conversation did I bring up any luxury activities, nor did I mention about my schooling. Aria is such an odd girl, always assuming and falling into the grasp of stereotyping even if she doesn’t realize it.

  Someone who isn’t me would puff up their chest in pride at her description because it screams filthy riches between the lines.

  I don’t flaunt my wealth or my education. I never use my family name to get anything. All my work has been coming from me, and the years I have put in. There will always be an influence on my family’s name, and that’s mine. I just need to play my part and never mention the family name.

  I’m not ashamed of my family and the generation of wealth that comes with it, but I want to make a name for myself with my own hands.

  “I went to Ivy League,” I admit while looking into her eyes. “But I never had tutors, nor did I go horseback riding.”

  She murmurs, “You’re too smart for tutors.”

  She’s right. I’m able to successfully run a business and keep it at the top of the international list of being the top fashion line. I don’t play with fire when it comes to competition. I crush them and step on them to be number one.

  In my world, business is cutthroat and brutal. I never expected to find such a pretty gem, and I’m lucky that she had summited her resume to my company. I got to her first before any scum has their claws in her if they knew what kind of power she has over men.

  If they aren't taken back by her beauty, then they will surely know soon that she is a smart girl. She’s not street smart or business smart, but her skills in design have too much potential that I was immediately more smitten when I saw how she explained one drawing could be improved with her suggestions.

  The client with that piece of clothing was more than happy with the changes because they had liked Aria’s idea more.

  “Shirt.” I tug on the dark fabric. “Off.”

  She shakes her head, cheeks red and slightly dazed. “Can I keep it on?”

  “Don’t make me ask again, little girl.”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.” Instinct drives her to answer me as she wiggles her hands into the wide sleeves and tries to finesse her way out of the collar.

  She can’t as she hopelessly stares at me with neediness. “Help me.”

  My hand is going for the shirt promptly, wishing to tear the material away from her small body to see the smoothness of her naked body.

  Aria covers her tits with her small arms while my eyes focused on the spillage coming from her arms. She can’t hide everything, and it makes me want to rip her arms away to suck on her pink nipples that I know are hard.

  I felt them.

  I put pressure on my focus to look down to her small hips. My sweatpants are being held up by two strings, and the sides aren’t properly tucked in, so some of the space came back while showing those damned white panties.

  She’s trying to kill me.

  She snaps her hand down on my wrist, stopping me from loosening the strings to peel away the layer that blocks what I want to see the most.

  “You don’t need to, right?” She attempts to sound brave with a small nervous chuckle, but I can hear a tinge of a quiver in her tone.

  “I-I mean, it’s probably the same. Nothing has changed! It’s not that different from day and night, and it feels warm too, so it’s the same centimeters!”

  I take my work very seriously, I do not half-ass anything, and nothing is done with less than all of my effort.

  “Are you questioning my work?” I ask, not expecting an answer from her shaking form.

  “No, it’s just—” she stammers, biting her tongue and whimpering in pain.

  I pull the string without her permission, and I don’t need it as she knows better than to disobey me if she doesn’t want her ass to be cherry red.

  I’m not ready for the pure white panties to come to view after I had seen the lacy edges of it. It’s the pair that I got her, and I have to admit that I brought more white ones to match her pureness than any other color.

  I keep imagining defiling her pretty little pink pussy. It’s what gets me through the night without breaking into her room. I’m still the vile man that I was a year ago, and it’s safe to say that I have gotten worst.

  I’m not measuring her hips rather than trying to visually see through her panties.

  A damn pervert is what I am. I proudly accept that with a chaste kiss to her quivering stomach. She squeaks in surprise, stumbling a bit before laying on hand on my shoulder to balance herself.

  “This,” I pull at the elastic of her panties and snapping it back teasingly. “Comes off too.”

  “Daddy!” she shakes her head again, shuffling backward. “I can’t!”

  Words aren’t coming out of her mouth anymore as she tries again to explain why it’s a bad idea to pull those panties down for me.

  “Good girls listen,” I subtly inform with a slight frown on my face, but not enough to deter her.

  Aria is starting to learn that not everything on my face is bad, and she can differentiate what I’m feeling based on everything she can see and hear.

  “You’re Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

  This isn’t baiting her, but it’s damn close when she nods vigorously. Aria is a good girl. She will always be an obedient and submissive girl that soothes the monster in me that craves to have her helpless under my older, bigger body.

  “Get on the bed,” I instruct while getting on my feet. Her eyes trail after me as I straighten my back and hold the measuring tape to my side.

  She eagerly listens and climbs on the bed with her ass up in the air, ripe for my teeth to sink into them. Turning over, Aria plops down and draws her limbs to the center of her body for decency.

  I go after her, looping my arm over her waist and adjusting our position to make sure she sits between my legs while trapping her with one leg bent under her thighs. She spins her head up to see me looking down at her; her shyness flares as she jerks her eyes away.

  “What are we doing, Daddy?” she asks rather innocently.

  It should be self-explanatory given that I have her in my arms and one hand reaching down to yank her panties off before she knows what’s going on. She babbles with incoherent words and clamps her thighs with my hand trapped between them.

  I’m good at pretending; pretending to be interested in the people at fundraisers, pretending to let my competition think they are winning to throw them down and crush their spirit, and pretending to wrap the measuring tape around her thigh to touch her under the pretense of professionalism.

  We are way past that.

  Aria trembles in my arms but lets me do what I want.

  “You’re a good girl,” I murmur in her ear, letting the tape slide away from my fingers. “So fucking pretty for me. Daddy would love to see your little pink pussy, and you would let me.”

  It wasn’t a request, but I hold on to the last shred of my humanity.

  “You have to be strong for me.” My cock throbs painfully on her backside, ready to burst through the seams of my boxer briefs.

  It’s so tight and constricting that it has the opposite effect. It’s giving me
friction and I’ll cum like it’s my first time touching my cock in my room.

  “Be strong for Daddy,” I huff through a choked breath. “Daddy doesn’t know how long he can hold back.”

  “You don’t have to.” My dearest girl is too kind for a monster like me.

  “Be good and take Daddy’s hand to where it aches.” I mouth at her neck, grazing my teeth to her strong pulse.

  She wavers for a moment, unsure of what to do before she decides with confusion as she puts her hands on mine. I wait with fracturing control, and every second is like thorns digging into my back as I force myself to be still.

  The first touch of her pussy is soft, wet, and hot. I sink my teeth into her neck, startling her, and she presses her hands down on mine to bring her whole virgin cunt to my hand.

  I wish I can be gentle with her, but I can’t, not with her moans luring me with a siren’s song to my own doom.

  I spread her soaked folds, running along her slit to her hard clit. I beg for mercy on my wicked soul, I beg and beg to the silence of my room that I don’t toss her on the bed and put my mouth on her sweet pussy.

  It’ll destroy her and take me with her too.

  “Pretty girl,” I mutter, circling her clit to hear her choking on my name.

  “Daddy!”

  “Don’t let Daddy see your pretty pussy, sweet girl.”

  I beg for forgiveness when I roughly play with her clit. Having her mewling and shaking in my arms, trusting me to be everything she wants, and letting her hips rock to chase after her own pleasure—I taste the blood in my mouth from biting on my lip too hard.

  “Y-you don’t want to see?” she naively asks, a hint of an upset quiver in her voice.

  “I want to see,” I ground out. “I want to see so fucking badly, but I can’t.” I close my eyes, resisting the temptation of looking over her shoulder to see my hand covered with her slick.

  “Why not?”

  I have never hated that inquisitive side of her more than now. I don’t think I can hold back the beast in me and trust that it’ll only have one taste, the tiniest lick and going back to dormancy. I know myself, and I know what I’m capable of doing, and my strength will make her cry in pain when I keep her highly sensitive.

  “Daddy will hurt you, little girl. I don’t want that.”

  She turns her face, breath shuddering to catch up as my hand rubs harder. Aria didn’t take long to close her legs around my hand and trembles with a restricted cry in her throat. Her cum seeps out hotly at her tiny hole, pulsing and twitching to be filled with something.

  My fingers are out of the question, my cock jerks in protest to the restrictions in my pants, and I bring her closer to make her feel what she’s doing to me.

  Withdrawing my hand and putting my drenched fingers to my mouth, I taste her, and another part of me breaks at the sweetness coating my tongue.

  “I love you, little girl. I love you so fucking much, and that’s why Daddy’s suffering.”

  That gets her attention, and she sluggishly turns her head as quick as her dazed mind allows her. She furrows her brows and adorably pushes the top of her head to my chin.

  “What’s—” the aftershock of her orgasm brings a strong twitch to her body. “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

  Addiction courses through my veins as ice-cold laughter rings in my head. Dropping the same hand back to her pussy, I adamantly look at the space just above and catch my breath.

  Circling her sensitive clit, she bucks her hips and hiccups. “Too sensitive, Daddy!”

  I ignore her words, drawing her to another orgasm as I quicken my pace. Snaking another hand to her thighs, I dip between her sopping folds to find her pulsing hole. It would be so easy to slip a finger in since she’s soaking through my bedsheets.

  I tap at the quivering hole where my cock would be fitting rather snugly inside and blocking my cum from spilling out.

  “Daddy loves you too much,” I sigh, resigned to the fact that I’ll most likely die the moment my cock feels her tight pussy wrapping hotly around me.

  “If you let Daddy see your pretty pussy, I will lose control.”

  The violent shivers going down her body tremble through my cock too as she cries wantonly. Shamelessly rolling her hips to my fingers, she’s experiencing another orgasm soon as I tap her virgin hole.

  “Daddy wants to put his big cock inside his little girl’s pink pussy,” I hiss in her ear, watching her blush flare down to her perky nipples.

  I don’t have enough hands to properly worship her body.

  “I want to fuck you, feed your greedy cunt every drop of my cum until you’re leaking till tomorrow. You’d want that, don’t you?”

  Without waiting for her to answer, I rub her clit with vigor, throwing her voice off with a growl of possessiveness.

  “You’d want Daddy to lose control and split you open with his big cock. I know you do.” Tapping and rubbing circles on her leaking hole, I taunt her with great effort to not thrust against her plump ass.

  “Your pretty cunt is too wet; it’s so wet that I bet I would slide in smoothly.”

  She begs, pretty blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Daddy, please.”

  “What do you need, sweet girl?”

  She shakes, toes curling with my sheets trapped between them as she digs her nails into my arm. She finds safety in me, finds purchase in my sinful hands, and finds home in my voice when she tips her head back.

  “I-I need you—I don’t… please, Daddy.”

  She doesn’t need words to tell me what she needs. I know exactly where her mind is because her body is showing me every sign of her orgasm as one harsh push down on her clit has her cum spilling out of her small hole.

  Juices gush hotly on my hands, slick dripping and a honied scent fills my nose.

  I survived a fatal temptation.

  Chapter Seven

  Aria

  “Are you sure?” I ask for what it seems to be the millionth time in the last hour.

  Today is the first day that Simone takes me to a public event as his date. Everyone knows that he doesn’t take anyone to anywhere, and he stands out even more due to his status within the circle of rich people.

  The hands fixing my hair and smoothing it back don’t stop their movements as they increase their touches. Simone started to ignore me after I had asked on the third try to change his mind about taking me to a fundraiser.

  This is good for public image. It’s what the team leader of Public Relation had said, and he hadn't batted an eye at me when he saw me with Simone. I must applaud his professionalism because I would have taken a double-take to see if I’m hallucinating.

  Simone has no companion in his pictures, and it’s a running joke in the media that he’s going to be a silver-fox bachelor in a playboy pad.

  I feel like Simone is doing this to put those words to rest once and for all. It’s also going to be good for me because my confidence goes straight to the negatives when the media compares me to all those beautiful women who had openly stated that they would be a better match for Simone.

  Simone presses the pad of his thumb to the tenderness of my inner thigh, and my knees nearly buckle like a deer on ice.

  “When Daddy says it’s fine, then you have nothing to worry about.”

  He removes his hand from my thigh and goes back to my hair while I stare at his black suit. This is a black-tie event, and everyone will be looking like peacocks spreading their feathers to attract whoever interests them.

  Or they just want this chance to flaunt everything from money to their bodies.

  The blackness of his suit pairs well with the obsidian in his eyes, and the three-piece suit has a slight sharpness that cuts the underlying gloominess of the color.

  Simone doesn’t just wear clothes; he dominates them and makes them into a style of his own when they are fitted on his massive shoulders, tapering off to his sculptured waist, and crisp down his strong legs.

  I’m living in a fantasy world
as I look at myself in the mirror. The dress he had me wear is gold that blends with my skin color, creating an illusion with the lacy cuts to show patches of my back and shoulders as a teasing remark.

  I step towards Simone, and a breeze kiss caresses my bare legs as I recall the dress has a split on the slide so when I walk, I’m showing everyone my legs with a pair of gold heels.

  “The event won’t be long,” Simone says as if he’s taming my frayed nerves of seeing rich people.

  I don’t doubt there will be celebrities there too. I have no interest in fame or famous individuals. When I look at them through a computer screen, I don’t have the desire to smooch my lips on their pictures or hang up posters of boy bands.

  Nothing makes my heart beat more than Simone. Unless fear comes into the play. Then, that’s a different discussion. If there is a competition between fear and Simone, I don’t want to know which one would win because I’d be fainting before it gets to the minute mark.

  Simone takes me to his car which had a driver in it.

  We’re not going towards the city. We’re traveling down a road of a remote area, and a flash of horror movie scene comes to mind, and I thought I was going to be murdered, but a hand on my thigh pushes that thought away.

  Simone could tell that my mind was making up ridiculous scenarios. We stop at a private airstrip, and a giant jet is ready for us. There are guards there, and I could see the pilot giving us a glance through his sunglasses, tipping his head as a signal before the staircase smoothly unravels like a red carpet greeting us.

  I’m sure my mouth had been open the entire time that Simone got me to a seat with him beside me. A drink in his hand and a glass of water in a cup holder for me while I absolutely blank out during the whole ride.

  What I thought of as a short trip turns out to be a plane ride to another state with a car taking us to a glamorous building welcoming us after Simone had presented his invitation through a fancy envelope.

  I definitely don’t belong here.

  The hall is engulfed with warm fluorescent yellow lights from one big chandelier while other smaller lights on the walls even out the darker space that the chandelier didn’t make it to. A tall stack of glasses filled with champagne that’s been arranged in a pyramid shape kicks up my anxiety.