Amanda's Dominant Daddy

by Maggie Carpenter

  She settled into his lap and he gently cradled her, kissing and whispering warm words of reassurance until she sat up and wiped the wetness from her face.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked.

  “How did you know? Yes, very much.”

  “I’m not sure how I knew,” he replied, a slight crease crossing his brow. “It just came to me.”

  “Yes, yes, please, and that dessert, whatever it is.”

  “Put your robe back around yourself properly and I’ll bring it out. It won’t take me long.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, I think you need a few minutes by yourself,” he smiled knowingly.

  She thought for a moment, then nodded.

  “You’re right. I need to catch my breath.”

  “After we have our tea, I’ll take you into bed and hold you all night,” he promised.

  “Is it weird that I still want to call you daddy?”

  “On the contrary,” he said, wiping her hair from her face, “it will feel right for a little while longer, and you can come here and be my little girl any time you want, for as long as you want,” he promised, and kissing her on the forehead, he released her from his lap and headed into the kitchen.

  * * *

  A short time later they were curled up in bed, and Braxton was caressing her tender backside. She’d been on the quiet side when he’d brought back the tea and freshly baked chocolate brownies, so he had sat with her and allowed her the calm comfort of simply being together. The moment felt intimate, and in spite of his many bedmates and hours in his decadent dungeon, he couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so close to a woman. When they’d climbed into bed she’d immediately nestled against him, and he was happy to let her snuggle and fall asleep if that’s what she needed to do, but when she shifted in his arms and looked up at him, he saw a question in her eyes.

  “What is it, sweetheart?”

  “I was just thinking… I have never done anything like that before. You know that, of course.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “It’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  “I opened myself up to you so much, and yet I don’t really know you.”

  “Sometimes things are just instinctive,” he said softly. “I think the most important decisions I’ve made have been instinctive. Sure, I’ll examine facts and figures, but if they add up and it still doesn’t feel right, I’ll walk away.”

  “Is that what led you to me at the gym? Your instinct?”

  “I haven’t thought about it, but yes, probably, though I did wonder why you wore so much makeup and I was interested in finding out,” he grinned.

  “That’s such a weird thing,” she frowned. “I don’t know why I was wearing it either. I’ll still wear some, of course, but not—”

  “Not like a high-school Goth girl,” he interrupted.

  “Oh, good grief, was it that bad?”

  “No. You’re too beautiful to look bad, but you look much cuter without it,” he winked. “When you took it off in the bathtub you looked about eighteen.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear,” she exclaimed, “but getting back to the instinct thing, that’s how I felt when I sent you the email. I don’t think I could have stopped myself even if I’d wanted to.”

  “So, then, it was instinct.”

  “Yes, it was, and now I feel like a new and improved me, and Braxton, I’d love it,” she said, lowering her voice and snuggling closer to him, “if you’d…”

  “Do this?” he said, sliding his hands over her nipples.

  “Ooh, yes.”

  Lowering his head, he drifted his mouth tenderly over hers, listening to her soft moans, and as her hunger took hold she brought her arms around his neck and pulled him into her, kissing him back with surprising fervor. A moment later he felt her fingers wrap around his cock, and groaning, he traveled his mouth to her nipples, devouring each in turn as she continued to stroke him.

  “I need you,” she whispered.

  “I know, sweetheart,” he purred, moving his hand between her legs and finding her pussy slick with its yearning.

  Sitting up, he retrieved a condom, tore open the wrapper, and quickly slipped it over his rigid member, then rolling on top of her, he spread her legs with his, resting his sheathed member against her bush.

  “Braxton,” she murmured, staring into his shockingly green eyes. “I want you so much.”

  “I want you too, sweetheart,” he crooned, and reaching down, he moved his member into position and thrust home.

  She closed her eyes as his lips nuzzled her neck, and when he took hold of her wrists and moved them to either side of her head, pinning them down, she let out a gasp, then raised her pelvis to meet his strokes. She was full of moans and sighs and utterances of pleasure. He kissed her, gently sucking her lower lip, then darted his tongue between her teeth. He could feel her struggling against his hold, but he knew she wanted to be kept there, in his grasp, under his control, and the more she fought, and the more he held her down, the more excited she became. Breaking from their kiss, he studied her face, and she opened her eyes as she felt his gaze.

  “I’m so close,” she breathed. “So very close.”

  “Are you asking me if you can climax?”

  “Yes, please, may I?”

  He could see she was joyous in her surrender and he kissed her again, a kiss he filled with loving gratitude. She had given herself to him so fully, she had trusted him so completely, and raising his head as he resumed his slow, strong pumping, he caught her eyes.

  “Come for me, sweetheart, come for me now.”

  He hadn’t spoken loudly or forcefully, but whispered his command, and as the orgasm gripped her, her eyes squeezed shut and she let out a high-pitched cry. Her pussy pulsed against him, and he thrust with gusto as the eruption took hold, listening to her ecstasy. The sounds of her release were cloaking him, heightening his own pleasure, and when she let out her final gasp and his cock jerked for the last time, he slipped out and immediately pulled her into his hold. Her limbs found their way around him, her legs over, her arms under, and her face rested against his pounding heart. Both breathless, they lay still, entwined by their bodies and their shared bliss.

  It was the cold that caused Braxton to stir. It didn’t bother him but he didn’t want her to catch a chill, and as he rose up to reach for the covers, he realized he hadn’t removed the condom from his flaccid penis.

  “I’ll only be a second,” he murmured, and started to leave the bed for the bathroom.

  “No, please don’t leave me, not even for a second,” she breathed. “Not tonight.”

  Looking across at his nightstand, he saw the tissue box, pulled out several of the flimsy papers, and wrapped up the used rubber. Not sure what to do with it, he dropped it on the floor, and feeling slightly dazed by an act that was so out of character, he pulled up the blankets and snuggled against her.

  “You’ve put a spell on me,” he whispered.

  “No, it’s the other way around,” she mumbled back.

  “Maybe it’s a gremlin in a tree.”

  “I can’t believe you said that,” she frowned, raising her eyes to stare at him.

  “Why?”

  “Because I use that gremlin line all the time. I said it to my realtor just this afternoon.”

  “Really? Huh. Maybe we share the same gremlin,” he smiled.

  “That’s just so strange. I’ve never heard anyone else say that,” she murmured, then unexpectedly broke into a long, heavy yawn.

  “Time to go to sleep, sweetheart, gremlins or no.”

  “Yes, daddy,” she said happily. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, little girl. Sleep tight.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Amanda could feel herself lifting out of a deep sleep. Her eyelids were incredibly heavy, as though there was a weight re
sting upon them, and the muscles of her body didn’t want to move. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw a window wet with rain, and for a moment she couldn’t quite make out where she was, then the memory of the night before came flooding back.

  “Braxton?” she whispered, rolling over to hug him.

  To her dismay his side of the bed was empty, and as a long yawn swept over her, she sat up and glanced around the bedroom. She was on a low platform bed, and there was a huge black and white oil painting in front of her. It was all stripes and zigzags, and was mounted above a slate gray fireplace. She didn’t remember it, or the fireplace, or the bookshelves on either side of it. Looking back at the windows, she realized they were floor-to-ceiling just as they were in the living room, but the city was hidden inside a thick gray wall of cloud.

  “The time,” she muttered. “I wonder what the time is.”

  She also didn’t remember taking off her Rolex, but staring at the nightstand, she saw it sitting next to the tissue box. She smiled, remembering how he’d so sweetly ripped out the tissues to remove his condom so he wouldn’t have to leave her. Reaching across, she picked up her watch, and for a moment she thought she was imagining things. Nine-thirty? Impossible. It couldn’t be! It had better not be! A sudden panic took hold, and jumping from the bed, she grabbed the pink robe lying on the floor, hastily wrapped it around her body, and hurried into the hall.

  “Braxton!”

  “In here, making breakfast,” he called back.

  Running forward, she entered the kitchen and found him calmly buttering some toast.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. What’s the matter?”

  “Holy shit!” she exclaimed, seeing the clock on the microwave. “It is nine-thirty-two.”

  “Hey, take a breath,” he said calmly. “I’ve called your office.”

  “You did what?”

  “Stop panicking. Everything’s under control.”

  “But I have meetings.”

  “Correction, you had meetings.”

  “I don’t understand. What have you done? Holy crap.”

  “Sit down,” he said firmly, gesturing to the stools at the kitchen island. “Everything’s fine. I’d never do anything to jeopardize your work, or anything else in your life.”

  Though she eyed him skeptically, his words rang true, and as she sat down she held his gaze, continuing to silently ask for an explanation.

  “You were in such a deep sleep I didn’t want to wake you,” he began. “After everything you went through last night you needed the rest so I left you alone, and around eight-thirty I called your office. I spoke with a very nice young man named Jeremy. I told him I was a friend calling on your behalf, and asked him if your appointments this morning could be rescheduled.”

  “You’re not serious,” she said, gaping at him.

  “I’m absolutely serious. I would have woken you if there was something he couldn’t postpone.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “He asked if you were okay, and I said yes, and he said if anyone deserved some personal time it was you, and as long as you could get in by eleven-thirty there’d be no problem.”

  “I still can’t believe this,” she repeated, shaking her head. “Did he say anything else?”

  “He asked me if I was after his job.”

  “He did?”

  “He did. He said he was the one who usually looked out for you.”

  “Oh, my gosh.”

  “I told him I was happy to share the duty. He laughed out loud.”

  “Did you tell him your name?”

  “Nope. Tea or coffee?”

  “Uh, coffee, no, wait, tea, please.”

  “You look shell-shocked.”

  “I am! I don’t know whether to be mad at you, or kiss you like crazy and say a thousand thank-yous.”

  “I think Jeremy was right.”

  “About what?”

  “If anyone deserves some personal time, it’s you, and look, amazingly the world hasn’t come to an end.”

  “I took personal time when I had the drama with my car,” she frowned.

  “No, that wasn’t personal. Like you just said, that was dealing with a drama.”

  “Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right,” she muttered, then she slipped off the stool and padded over to him.

  “May I have a hug?” she asked sweetly.

  “Absolutely.”

  “You are the most wonderful man ever,” she sighed, sinking into his arms.

  “Am I? And it took me how many weeks to get you to even talk to me?”

  “But I was worth the wait, right?”

  “Can I get back to you on that?” he chuckled.

  “What?” she exclaimed, jumping back and punching his chest.

  “Of course,” he said warmly. “Totally worth the wait, and the effort.”

  “Was I tough?”

  “Yes, you were tough,” he winked. “Relax and have some toast while I start the omelet.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever played hooky,” she remarked, moving back to sit at the island.

  “Then I think you’re allowed,” he said, breaking some eggs into a bowl.

  “What’s on your agenda for today?” she asked, watching him chop up some tomatoes. “Anything exciting?”

  “My realtor is coming over here with her photographer. This house will be all over the Internet by Monday.”

  “Oh, wow. Who’s your realtor?”

  “Her name is Candy Sparling. She’s with Acorn Realty. What about you? You mentioned your realtor last night. Does that mean you’re about to list your house as well?”

  “I’m using Jack Mulgrew.”

  “Ah, yes, the realtor to the stars.”

  “He already has someone interested. That’s the thing about him. People call him, agents and managers, and tell him what they want and he finds it. He sells homes that aren’t even for sale until he picks up the phone.”

  “So I’ve heard, but I’m not worried about this place moving. Sunset Plaza is hot right now.”

  “That’s only because you live here,” she giggled.

  “Cute! Here, let’s share this,” he suggested, plating the tomato and cheese omelet and carrying it across to her.

  “Works for me! It looks great.”

  They chatted happily about commonplace things, the weather, the latest movies, the five hundred accidents that happened on the Los Angeles freeways when it rained, and as they finished their breakfast he put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

  “What about you? Are you doing anything earth-shattering today?”

  “I am, as a matter of fact. I’m chasing a project that everyone will want. I want to nab it before it gets snapped up by someone else.”

  “Good for you. I hope you get it.”

  “Me too,” she said, leaning against him. “I want badly, and not just for Seaspray. I have another agenda, but I can’t say any more than that.”

  “Sounds intriguing, but on a completely different subject there’s something I want to show you.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, if you’re done eating.”

  “I am; that was delicious, thank you.”

  Taking her hand, he led her from the kitchen, stopped into his study to collect the key, then took her to the door that led down to his decadent dungeon.

  “Prepare yourself,” he said, slipping the key in the lock.

  “Why? What am I about to see?”

  “You’re about to find out,” he winked, and turning the handle, he gestured for her to step ahead of him.

  Amanda had already guessed what she’d be walking into, but she was surprised at just how wondrously hedonistic the room was. It was obvious a great deal of thought had been put into the placement of the unique pieces of furniture, and staring across the room, she spied the rows of floggers, crops, paddles, and other implements. The sight took her breath away.

  “Good grief,” she murmured as she walked slowly through the room. “Y
ou could open a store.”

  “What do you think?” he asked, moving up behind her.

  “I think it’s one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen,” she murmured, turning around and gazing up at him. “Please tell me we can, uh, do stuff together down here.”

  “Definitely,” he said softly, pulling her into his arms, “but it won’t be like last night.”

  “I wouldn’t expect it to be.”

  “How would you feel about spending the weekend here? Why don’t you come over tomorrow, late in the afternoon?”

  “And come down here?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Oh, yes, please,” she replied, feeling the delicious wash of moisture between her legs. “I would love that. Can I, uh, dress for the occasion? Wear something special?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, please, be my guest,” he said huskily, and suddenly clutching a fistful of her hair, he pulled it back and held her gaze.

  “I’ll shackle you,” he growled. “I’ll use your body for my pleasure.”

  “I want you to,” she whispered, feeling her knees threatening to buckle.

  “You’ll need a safeword. Think about what you want that to be, but make it simple so if you ever say it, it will immediately register in my head without any thought.”

  “Okay,” she said breathlessly.

  “When we’re down here, you’ll call me sir,” he continued, and as abruptly as he’d grasped her hair, his lips were on hers, crushing her mouth in an ardent, passionate, demanding kiss.

  “Braxton,” she whimpered as he broke away and released her, “I’m Jell-O. I’m totally weak right now.”

  “Get used to it,” he muttered with a wicked grin. “Now I think it’s time for you to get to your office. It’s raining, and you don’t want to be driving in a hurry.”

  “Ooh, I so don’t want to leave. I want to curl up in bed with you. No, I want to stay in this incredible room and—”

  “And you will soon enough,” he promised, interrupting her and hugging her tightly. “Are you so weak that I need to carry you up the stairs?”

  “No,” she laughed. “I’m not that bad.”

  Braxton’s cock was at full attention and his heart was pounding with anticipation. Amanda had fallen in love with his dungeon, and he had no doubt she would embrace her submissive role with passionate enthusiasm. She was gripping his hand. He knew she was tantalized, perhaps even overwhelmed at what she had just seen, and filled with a spicy, erotic excitement. He had opened the door not just to his dungeon, but to the world of BDSM, and she was aching to step through it and experience all it had to offer. As they began to climb the stairs, she paused and looked back at the extraordinary room.