by B. B. Hamel
“You want it straight?” he asks.
“Is he mine?”
Nick watches me for a second without smiling. “It was hard, but I found out.”
“The suspense is killing me.”
He grins, puffing on the cigarette before taking it out of his mouth with his left hand. The folder flips shut and he flicks the ash onto the ground.
“Best part of the job, is the reveal. You know that? People just want to know right away, get all impatient, but that’s not why you’re here.”
I want to groan but I keep it in check. “Why am I here then?”
“The drama,” he says.
“Okay, I’m here for drama. But I still need to know if Felix is my son or not.”
He grins and takes a drag. I wish he’d stop fucking smoking, but asking him to stop is like asking a fish not to swim. The guy always has a cigarette, at least every time I’ve seen him.
“You’re the father.”
The words hit me like a hammer. I lean back against the wall, steadying myself, my heart beating fast in my chest.
“You good? Need a minute?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m good.”
He opens the folder again. “Turns out, she wasn’t with anyone but you around the time that her son was conceived. And believe me, I dug and dug, and you’re it.”
“How did you find this out?”
“Research,” he says. “Mostly I asked her friends. Talked to people from the hospital. Stuff like that.”
“Her friends?” I feel dazed, dizzy.
“Sara. Sweet girl. Talks too much though.”
“I know that name,” I say. “Sara’s her closest friend. Works with her. She just told you?”
“Well, I pretended to be her doctor.”
“Her doctor?”
He shrugs and takes a drag. “Anyway, you know now. You’re the father.”
“I’m the father.”
He hands me the folder. “Some interesting stuff in there, but truth is, Declan, she’s a good kid. You should be happy.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Send a check to the address on my card, it’s in the folder.”
He waves and walks away as I stand there staring at the folder in my hands. I’m too shocked to open it.
I don’t know what I expected. I knew there was a chance that Felix would be my son. Frankly, I expected it, but now that it’s real…
I’m a father. I have a son. And she’s been hiding him from me.
Anger and desire and confusion all well up inside of me, mixing and mingling, but when I think about her, things become clearer. There’s only one thing I want from her, the same thing I’ve always wanted. I check the time and pull out my phone, sending her a text.
She better come, and she better dress in black. She doesn’t know it, but tonight’s the night I make her mine. Tonight I’ll be her Daddy and she’ll submit to me. Once she does, her real punishment can begin.
16
Teagan
I show up at his house feeling nervous, dressed head to toe in black.
I don’t know why he wants me in black, but there’s something sexy about being told what to wear. I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s just the sense of his control over me, but I like it. I feel dirty and hot as I ring his bell. I’m wearing a short black dress, black shoes, a black bra, and black panties. I’m not wearing any jewelry, because I don’t own anything black and I don’t know how serious he’s taking this. I don’t want to risk upsetting him.
He lives in an enormous apartment building, all glass and chrome. I buzz his apartment again, and a minute later he finally responds. “Come up,” he says. “Top floor.” The doors buzz open and I push through, stepping into a bright entrance hall with marble floors and walls.
There’s a desk for a doorman, but nobody is behind it. I walk through and head toward the elevators in the back. I step on and hit the top floor button, staring at the mirror walls as it slides upwards.
I feel like this is a big step for us, although I don’t know what it means. For most of our relationship, though we’ve gotten closer and closer, I feel like there’s still been a level of distance. Maybe it’s been there because of the lawsuit and the necessity of not getting too attached, but I’m not sure about that.
I think it’s something else that’s been holding him back. Whatever it is, maybe it’s gone now, and he’s ready to bring me into his world.
The elevator dings and slides open. I step out into a beautiful entranceway and I feel that weird mix of familiarity and strangeness. I’ve been here before of course, but it feels like the first time.
Modern art hangs on the walls. The hall ends a couple feet ahead and opens into a large living space. I step through the doorway and bite my lower lip.
His apartment is the whole top floor of this building. His living room is simple, with enormous windows overlooking the city, a black modern couch, and a fireplace. I don’t see a TV anywhere, which shouldn’t surprise me. There’s a bookshelf filled with books, and a kitchen to the right.
“Glad you found it. Again.” He steps out from behind the kitchen counter, small smirk on his lips. “Drink?”
I nod and step over to him. “This place is gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” he says. “Can’t take full credit for it, though. I hired a decorator.”
“She did a good job. Is that important modern art in the foyer?”
He laughs and shrugs. “I think so. I mean, I hope so. It cost enough.”
I shake my head, totally at a loss. “I think that one was a Rothko.”
“I think you’re right.” He hands me a glass of white wine, a whisky in his hand already. “Cheers.”
We clink glasses and I sip mine as he walks into the living room, over toward the windows. There’s a fire crackling in the fireplace, and I can’t believe he has an actual working fireplace in the city like this. I follow him, hanging back, nerves tingling like raw power lines.
“I should have had you over sooner,” he says softly. “But you know. We’ve been having fun.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Fun.”
He looks back at me. “Do you like what I’ve shown you?”
I frown a little bit. “What do you mean?”
“The restaurants, the parties, the art galleries. Do you like all of that?”
I nod my head. “I love it,” I admit. I can’t pretend like I don’t. He’s shown me a whole new side of the city that I didn’t even know existed. It’s the sort of thing that someone like me would never, ever see. He brought me into his world and gave me a taste, and now I’m addicted. I want more.
“Good,” he says softly, a smile playing on his handsome face. “I was worried.”
“About what?”
He sips his whisky. “That I was scaring you away.”
I laugh softly. “Why would you think that?”
My nerves flare up again. He seems a little different, maybe a little distant and intense. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something hanging in the room between us, and I don’t know what it is.
“Come here,” he instructs. “Come stand here.” He gestures the spot next to him.
I walk over and look out the window.
“Put your hands up on the glass.” He takes my glass away and I do it, palms flat. The glass is smooth and cool and for a second, I feel like I might fall through it, slide right into the open night sky, plummet down onto the city street below.
“Do you feel that?” He’s right behind me, his mouth inches from my ear. “That rush?”
“Yes,” I admit. “I feel it.”
He puts his hands on my hips. “Like it’s going to swallow you up. The darkness, everything down below us, clawing at your body, pulling you toward it. That’s always there, just waiting for you, waiting to take you.”
He pushes me tighter against the glass and for a second, I think it’s going to break. My heart starts hammering and a surprised noise escapes my lips, but of course I’m okay. He
pulls my hips and turns me around, back against the glass, facing him. He smirks and reaches up, taking my hair in his fist.
“I wouldn’t let you fall,” he whispers. “Not without you begging for it first.”
He kisses me and for the first time since we’ve started this, I know I’m getting a glimpse of him, the man behind the man. This is the Declan I remember from those years ago, sultry and sexy and controlling, the kind of man that knows what he wants and takes it without question. He’s the kind of man that can teach me things about myself that I didn’t know I needed to learn.
I reach out and wrap my arms around his neck as he presses himself against me, kissing me hard and deep. I’m flat against the glass behind me, and in the back of my mind I can’t help but wonder what would happen if it gave out. The spiderweb cracks would form around my back and the whole pane would shatter. We’d drop out together, flying through space. Or not, he’d somehow save us, I know he’s capable of it. He can surprise me in so many different ways.
The thrill of my fantasy mixed with his kiss drives me crazy. I was wet already just walking into his apartment, the lighting dim, the fireplace casting orange glows across the modern architecture and decorations.
His hands roam down my body, slowly sliding down my hips, sending shockwaves through my skin. His fingertips reach the bottom of my dress and he slowly slides the hem up along my thighs, up above my hips. I groan as he presses me tighter against the glass, one hand on my exposed ass, the other in my hair.
“I’ve been thinking about that night,” he whispers in my ear. “Do you remember what you said to me?”
He bite my lower lip. “Which part?”
“You know which part.” The hand on my ass slowly slides around and finds my pussy, making me gasp. “Say it again.”
“I want to feel it,” I whisper. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Yes,” he says, and his hand pulls my hair back. I gasp as his other hand slides beneath my panties, finding my slick pussy and clit. “That’s what I needed.” He starts to rub me in circles, agonizing and slow.
“Why have we been waiting?” I ask him.
“I needed to know something,” he says, pressing two fingers inside of me, making me gasp.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s not important now. All that matters is right here.” He slides his fingers in and out, sending pleasure rocking through me, his hand in my hair.
I can’t help but wonder, what did he need to know? And if we’re doing this now, did he find it out?
I don’t get to follow my train of thought much further than that. He kisses my neck, fingers fucking my pussy, body pressed back against the glass, and pleasure’s starting to overwhelm my rational mind. I can feel that part of me coming out, the one that comes out in the darkness, all irrational and obsessed with pleasure. It’s the part of me that only he can bring out, the animal inside of me that I keep hidden away during the day, buried deep down.
It’s the same part of me that I see when I picture falling out the window. It’s darkness, it’s control, it’s pleasure. It’s insanity. I’m afraid of that side of me, afraid that if I give into it then I’ll never recover myself. I’ll never be the person I was before it.
But with Declan, I feel safe, at least safe enough to let him push me there. That night he took me further than anyone had before, and since then I’ve been craving it. I want to feel that complete lack of control again, that complete and utter submission.
He slides his fingers out of me, making me gasp, his hand still tight in my hair. He walks me away from the window. I stumble against him as he pulls me into the middle of the living room.
“Kneel,” he says.
I listen to him, slowly dropping to my knees. He holds my hair, tipping my chin back.
“I want to make you mine, Teagan,” he says softly. “But if I’m going to do that, there’s something you have to understand first.”
He releases my hair and steps away from me. “What?” I ask him.
“Stay there.” He turns and leaves the room, following the short hall around the corner and into the back of his apartment.
I stay on my knees, heart beating fast. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I know I want to find out.
He comes back a moment later with three pieces of black cloth in his hands. He walks over to me and stops in front of me, gently crouching down to be eye level with me.
“I’m going to blindfold you now,” he says softly. “And you’re going to do exactly as I say. Do you understand?”
“Blindfold me?” I bite my lip. “I don’t know.”
“If things go too far, say your son’s name. Can you do that?”
I hesitate a second. “Okay,” I say. “I can do that.”
He tips my chin up and softly kisses my lips. “Good girl.”
He stands and walks around behind me. My heart is hammering so fast I can barely stay upright as he slowly wraps a piece of black cloth around my face. I catch a glimpse of the stars out the window before he pulls it tight, shutting off my eyesight, making everything go black.
He ties it off, tight but not painful. When he’s done, I hear him step away and walk around me again. His steps are muffled on the carpet, but I know he’s close.
I’ve never felt so exposed before, and I’m still fully dressed. I’ve never let someone blindfold me before like this, but I like it.
“Hands in front of you, wrists together,” he says.
This I’m more familiar with. I do as he says, and he ties my hands together.
“There. Too tight?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Good.” He steps back again and leaves me there in the darkness, my wrists bound in front of me. I could pull off the blindfold still, which gives me a small comfort, but I know he has complete control now. There’s no getting up and getting away.
“You look good, down on your knees like this,” he says, his voice coming from behind me. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“I think so,” I say.
“You don’t,” he corrects gently. He grabs my hair again. “You’re here to submit to me.” His voice is suddenly very close to my ear. “You’re here to call me Daddy.”
The word sends a thrill down my spine. “Daddy?” I ask him.
“That’s right. Do you know what that means?”
I shake my head slightly.
“It means I own you,” he says. “It means you’re mine, and you do exactly as I say. But in return, I give you whatever you want, whatever you need. I take care of you. I make you comfortable.”
“I understand,” I say softly.
“I don’t think you do, not yet at least. But you’re going to.” His hold on my hair tightens. “Get up.”
I do as he says, getting to my feet. He leads me somewhere again.
“Hands up and forward.
I put them out and slowly feel glass.
“Stay there.”
He releases my hair, and for a second I’m alone, my hands against the glass of his floor-length windows again.
And then I feel him, up close against me. I can feel his cock hard through his pants, pressing firm against my ass. He unzips the back of my dress, but instead of pulling it off me, he tears it.
“Declan!”
I feel the dress tear away as he rips it down the back until it drops to the floor. I don’t move though, I stay where I’m at, but anger rises inside of me.
“Did that piss you off?” I can hear the sneer in his voice. “Good. I told you that I own you now. I’ll get you another dress, I’ll get you as many as you want.”
He slaps my ass, hard, and I gasp. I’m exposed now, truly exposed, standing there in high heels, black panties, and a black bra. That asshole could have asked about that dress. I liked it, and it was my only black one. But he’ll buy me more, I’m sure of it now.
He slaps my ass again and presses himself against me. His lips find my neck from behind as his hands e
xplore my body. I gasp and moan softly as he teases my breasts and presses a hand down the front of my panties, finding my pussy.
I’ve never experienced this before, getting my pussy touched while I have a blindfold on, but it feels incredible. Every sensation is magnified until that’s the only thing for me, the only thing I can feel or taste or breathe. My whole world is drilled down to just Declan’s hands on my body.
I gasp again as he presses his fingers inside of me. He pulls them back out suddenly and I feel him unhook my bra. He rips it off as well, tearing the thin portion in the front, letting it drop to the floor.
“You’re just going to destroy my whole outfit, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he admits. “I am. And when I’m done, I’ll put you in a new outfit, and you’ll call me Daddy.”
I take a sharp breath. “You could have warned me.”
“Warned you?” He laughs and pulls my hair back. “What would be the fun in that?”
He releases me and teases my full breasts again, my nipples hard and perky as his fingers squeeze and roll them. Suddenly I feel him drop down behind me, his lips against my ass. He spreads my legs wider and squeezes, feeling every inch of me.
Slowly, he tears my panties down one side. He gets them off and lets them drop to the floor. Now I’m completely naked, hands bound in front of me and leaning against his huge window, blindfold keeping me from seeing what’s happening around me. But I feel him behind me, squeezing my ass, and spreading it side.
“Perfect,” he whispers and I feel his tongue start to eat me from behind.
“Shit,” I gasp, pressing up against the glass. His tongue laps every inch of me from behind, sliding up inside of my pussy. Pleasure floods me, and I want to turn around and look at him, but I know I can’t. He slaps my ass and squeezes my hips, pulling me back against his hungry mouth.
I toss my hair back, moans escaping my lips uncontrollably, and I lose myself. I let myself go, let myself drop into the inky blackness of the blindfold. I stop stressing, stop worrying, and the world melts away until I’m nothing but a pinprick of pleasure emanating up my core.
