Daddy's Demands: Twenty-Five Steamy Daddy Dom Romance Novellas

by Madison Faye

  He palms my bare ass with both hands, squeezing and kneading the smarting flesh as his lips twist over mine, his tongue invades.

  It’s a wicked kiss. A demanding one.

  I push my pelvis forward, stand on my tiptoes to rub higher. His cock presses into my belly with hard insistence.

  Oh, God—this is it. I’m going to lose my virginity to the guy I always dreamed of giving it to.

  * * *

  Alex

  I somehow force myself to pull back from Jenna. She tastes like cranberry and vodka and I want to fucking devour her, but I can’t.

  She’s the don’s daughter.

  Except who am I kidding? I just bent her over and spanked her ass like a naughty girl. If that’s not claiming her, what is? And seriously, if I don’t claim her now, the spanking would be a humiliating insult to her.

  She’s not tied to Nico Tacone anymore.

  That means she’s free.

  Right?

  I capture the back of her head and go in for more kissing. Her lips are soft and giving, her body molds to mine.

  I don’t know why, but I have to know more about the men. I’m jealous as fuck just knowing guys have seen her dressed like this.

  I press her back on the bed, falling over her, still fucking her mouth with my tongue. I pin her wrists above her head and come up for air. “How many men, Jenna? Just tell me.”

  She frowns, her forehead wrinkling up in an adorable scowl. “I told you—none.”

  I can’t quite breathe. “None here? Or none… ever?”

  She gets smaller before my eyes and I feel like the biggest stronzo on Earth for diminishing her. As much as it inspires my dominant, protective instincts, I like seeing her in her sexual power. “None, ever,” she mutters.

  My chest tightens. Cazzo. Despite her oozing sexuality, Jenna Pachino is an innocent.

  I kiss her again, tender this time.

  And then I force myself off her. Because I’m sure as hell going to make her first time good, not some drunken hookup that she might regret tomorrow. I scoop my arms under her shoulders and knees and slide her up on the bed and under the covers.

  She smiles up at me, but when I pull the covers up to her chin, she frowns. “What are you doing?”

  “Putting you to bed, tesoro mio.”

  She sits up and reaches for me. “Aren’t you coming?”

  I step out of her reach, because, fuck, if I let her touch me, I’m going to be in that bed in a half-second. “Believe me, bambi, there’s nothing more I want than to be pounding between those legs until you can’t walk straight tomorrow, but I’m not going to.” Her eyes rounded when I spoke crudely, but the way her lips part is an invitation. “I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’ve been drinking.”

  She climbs out of the bed and holds my gaze, pulling her tiny top—essentially a handkerchief held on with two threads—over her head. She isn’t wearing a bra, and her breasts bounce invitingly.

  Fuck. I’ve had a lot of women, but I’ve never seen a body that compares to Jenna Pachino’s. But she’s always done it for me, hasn’t she? Of course I have to have a hard-on for the don’s only daughter. I stumble back, out of reaching distance.

  She climbs out of the bed and sheds the rumpled skirt next.

  “Enough!” I snap when she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her G-string. “Don’t fucking cock-tease me, baby. Not when I’ve been shouting your name while I beat off since before you were out of your dad’s house.” I give my cock a hard squeeze over my pants. “Not when I’m trying to be a gentleman. You get that gorgeous ass of yours back in bed before I paint it red again.”

  Excitement flares in her eyes at my threat, which comes as a relief, because I’ve been feeling like an asshole for taking liberties punishing her already.

  She doesn’t stop, though. She steps forward and loops her arms around my neck, rubbing those hard nipples against my chest.

  “I mean it,” I growl, but my voice comes out raspy. I grab her panties by the back string and pull up, threading them against her crack in the back, pulling taut over her clitty in the front.

  Her moan nearly makes me lose it. She pants, head falling back, fingernails scoring the back of my neck.

  “Aw, bambi, you keep making noises like that and I’m gonna end up fucking you standing. Right here, right now.”

  She lifts one leg, as if to line her pussy up with my throbbing dick, and I yank up on her G-string again.

  “I think you need a lesson in obedience.”

  She pants in audible, moany little breaths.

  “You gonna get in that bed—” she shakes her head as I speak, “—or do I have to spank you again?”

  She nods.

  Cazzo. Do I have the control for this?

  I seriously doubt it.

  To take things down a notch, I lead her over to the sofa, where I sit and pull her over my lap.

  “Mmm.” I swear to Christ, she starts humping it.

  Jenna Pachino is fucking killing me.

  She’s turned the wrong way, which means I have to use my left hand to spank her. It’s probably a good thing, because her ass is still pink from the slaps I laid down earlier.

  “You need your ass smacked by me?” I ask. Her ass is delicious to spank—round, muscular, perfect. The perky cheeks flatten and bounce back with each slap.

  “Yes,” she moans.

  “Say yes, Daddy.” I don’t even know where I’m getting this shit. I’m dominant, yeah. I’ve always been the kinda guy who takes charge in the bedroom. I like to hold them down, even tie them up, and fuck hard.

  But Jenna, she’s special to me. She’s the girl who offered secret smiles and stolen glances from the first day the don took me under his wing. She teased and joked with me when I was nervous, held my hand at my father’s funeral, and delivered home-baked Italian dishes for the month after.

  And she’s hotter than sin. So yeah, I still want to dominate her, but taking good care of her is at the forefront of my mind. Which I guess translates to being her daddy.

  “Yes, Daddy.” She says it immediately, like there’s nothing weird about me demanding she call me that. This girl was fucking made for me. I knew it.

  All these years, I couldn’t believe God would forsake me by handing her over to someone else.

  But now she’s free. The contract’s been broken, Nico Tacone married his little art historian, and the mountains didn’t fall. The Families didn’t even squabble over it.

  “Good, because I fucking love spanking you, principessa.”

  Her ass is hot, and turning from pink to red. It strikes me with stab of horror that I might have gone too far. She is drunk, after all. She might not be experiencing the real pain of it.

  I stop and rub her cheeks, handling them roughly because I can’t control myself.

  She rolls her hips, taunting me. Teasing me. Offering herself to me.

  Not. Tonight.

  Cazzo.

  I bring two fingers between her legs. Her panties are soaked. I slip under them and work her clit, rubbing it lightly at first, then penetrating her with just one finger. She’s tight—but I work my digit in, then add a second one.

  Her juices leak freely, her moans sound wanton. “Alex,” she breathes.

  I pull my fingers out and smack her ass. “Daddy.”

  “Daddy,” she repeats immediately.

  “Good girl.” I reward her with a firmer treatment of her clit, circling it, rubbing. I penetrate her again with two fingers, pumping them in and out.

  “Alex-Daddy-please,” she begs, stringing the words together.

  “You need to come already, baby?”

  “Yes, please. Oh!”

  I love the way she arches her back like a little kitten, sticking her ass up in the air to meet my fingers. I fuck her faster with them, harder. I insinuate my thumb between her ass cheeks and press it against her anus.

  She comes immediately, her muscles spasming around my fingers, her
body flattening and going rigid. She kicks her legs out straight behind her, tightening all the muscles as her pussy squeezes and releases.

  “That’s it, principessa,” I murmur. When she’s done, I slip my fingers out and drop a kiss on her reddened cheeks. “Now, get in bed.” I help her to her feet. I can’t fucking stand, because my boner is so hard against my leg I’m afraid it will break off.

  “What about you?” She looks down at my obvious discomfort.

  I wave an impatient hand. “Get in the fucking bed, little girl. Your ass is red enough.”

  She smiles and cups her ass, then shrugs and heads to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

  She must be sobering up.

  And no, I tell myself firmly, that doesn’t mean I can fuck her now.

  Chapter Two

  Jenna

  I wake in the morning with a headache and a case of cottonmouth. A familiar, manly scent fills my nostrils and I sit bolt upright with a gasp.

  It definitely wasn’t a dream.

  Alex sits on the hotel suite sofa, reading a newspaper, still dressed in his fine Italian suit like he never slept. There’s a coffee carafe and a tray of food from room service on the table, though. How did I sleep through all that?

  “Buongiorno.” Alex’s deep raspy voice goes straight to my lady parts.

  And that’s when I realize I’m naked except for my G-string. I yank the sheet up to my shoulders, then climb out, keeping it intact. I have to tug a couple of times to pull it off the bed.

  Alex watches all this with a mixture of amusement and the smoldering desire I remember always burned in his eyes for me.

  Oh, God—it’s really true! It’s really happening. Alex is here, in my suite, and he’s into me. So into me, he pleasured me last night without taking any satisfaction of his own.

  There’s nothing more I want than to be pounding between those legs until you can’t walk straight tomorrow.

  “Buongiorno. I, um, am just going to brush my teeth.”

  The corners of Alex’s lips turn up. “You do that. I put a bottle of ibuprofen out on the counter in case you need it.”

  My heart somersaults. “You did?” Sweet man.

  Don’t read too much into it, I caution myself. Alex is a player. If he’s into me, it’s only because I’m no longer off limits. He needs to check me off his list. Or make me a notch in his bedpost—whatever the saying is.

  I pop a couple of the painkillers, brush my teeth, and wash my face. Then I drop the sheet, turn around, and look at my ass in the mirror. There are a couple of small red marks, but otherwise, nothing. I squeeze my cheeks with my hands. No residual pain at all. Which seems amazing because I remember him spanking me pretty hard.

  And the memory makes my nipples pebble up and my pussy clench.

  I left the door ajar and suddenly Alex is there, standing in front of me, taking in the whole scene.

  My face grows hot, but Alex steps right into the bathroom with me. “Let me have a look.” He turns me around and bends me over the bathroom counter. “I left marks.” He sounds stricken. He rubs my ass in a slow, circular motion. “Does it hurt, bambi?”

  “No.” I’m breathless.

  “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Well, this is my chance. He may be a player, but I need to get my V-card checked by someone, and he’s the guy I always dreamed of doing it. I turn around and place my hands on his chest. “Really? Because it sure felt like you did.”

  He smirks and grabs my ass with both of his large palms. “Well, a little punishment was in order.”

  “Because I was so bad?” I purr.

  “Yes.” He squeezes my cheeks.

  “Is that why you’re here? To punish me?” I know it’s not why, but I like that idea far more than what his presence really means. He’s here to drag me home.

  And I sure as hell don’t want to go back. I’ve had enough of living my life for my parents. It’s time for me to start making choices for myself.

  His eyes are so dark, they’re black. He cups my chin in that dominant, take-charge way he has. “I didn’t know you’d still be so sassy once you sobered up.”

  I lift my chin. “You don’t know a lot of things about me.”

  His expression darkens. “No, but I intend to find out.” He sounds threatening, and a shiver runs down my spine. I don’t know exactly what he does in the family business, just like I don’t know what my dad does. The women of the family make it their business to never know. It’s one part safety, one part sanity-keeping measures. Because if we knew, would we really stick around?

  And that’s another reason why I like the idea of staying gone.

  I ran away from that life, the misery my father wanted to twist me into. I don’t need Alex dragging me back, no matter how persuasive or beautiful he may be.

  I pull back out of his grip and put my hands on my hips. It’s hard to muster bravado in nothing but a G-string but I do my best. “I’m not going back, Alex.”

  He studies my face, nothing showing in his expression. Then he tilts his head to the side. “I’m not leaving without you.”

  And just like that, my nipples bead up, as if he just declared we’d be having sex soon.

  He doesn’t miss it, his gaze dropping to my breasts and growing hungry.

  “I-I guess we’re at a standoff, then.”

  He takes a step forward, dark and dangerous. “I guess we are.” He takes another step and his hand tangles in the back of my hair. “Good. That gives me time to punish you thoroughly.”

  My knees go weak and his fist tightens at my scalp, tugging my head back.

  “Wh-what for?” My heart’s beating so hard, I’m sure he can see it under my skin.

  He brushes his lips over mine, then nips my lower lip, holding it a moment between his teeth. It’s a slow release, my plump flesh dragging under his bite until it releases with a pop. “For running away, tesoro mio. You worried your father to death.”

  My father.

  Just like that, my excitement fizzles.

  Alex is here on a job. My father sent him. He may be showing more interest in me than usual, but that’s just his usual playboy persona. He held it back from me before, because I was off-limits.

  So yeah. If I decide to let him check off my V-card, that’s one thing. But this man is not here for me. He’s a player and he’s on a job. So if I want to play, too, that’s fine. But I’d better guard the hell out of my heart.

  * * *

  Alex

  Jenna’s smile crashes when I mention her father, and I quickly try to remedy the mistake. “I was worried about you.”

  But it’s too late—the moment is gone. Jenna backs away from me, out of the bathroom, and she hurries to get dressed.

  I somehow resurrect the gentleman in me and turn my back to give her privacy.

  It’s probably just as well she retreated. I shouldn’t be getting involved with the mafia princess. Just because Don Giuseppe sent me here to get her doesn’t mean he gave me permission to claim her. In fact, for all I know, he might take my interest in his daughter as a supreme disrespect and put a bullet through my head.

  I don’t think so—the old man loves me like a son—but you never know.

  So I’ll just have a conversation with Jenna about last night being a mistake and we’ll keep it our secret. But my resolve vanishes when I turn and find her dressed in shorts that cover less than a pair of panties, and her bikini top.

  In fact, I choke on my own spit.

  “What the fuck are you wearing?”

  Her smile is all cock-tease—the same one she used as a drop-dead gorgeous eighteen-year-old when she’d saunter past me to the pool in nothing but a string bikini.

  “You’re doing that on purpose,” I growl. My balls are already blue from last night and our little scene in the bathroom. Now, need turns me rough. She grabs a piece of fruit from the plate I ordered in, takes her keycard from the table, and walks out the door.

  Growl
ing, I yank off my tie, toss it over the sofa arm, and follow her out.

  She sashays ahead of me, swinging her hips more than should be legal. I raise my eyes heavenward.

  “Jenna, where are you going?”

  She tosses her chestnut-brown hair over her shoulder when she looks at me. “For my morning walk on the beach.” Her eyes drop to my polished dress shoes. “You’re going to have a hard time in those.” She keeps walking, shaking that ass.

  I sigh and push my hand through my hair. What am I even doing? I came here to bring her home. Antagonizing her wasn’t my goal. “Wait—Jenna.”

  She must hear the change of my tone from bossy to sincere, because she stops and turns, cocking a hip. “Yes?” She’s enjoying herself immensely.

  “Do you want me to come?”

  Her smile wobbles, the confident facade falls away. Now she’s being real, too. “Um, yeah. I guess so.”

  The glimmer of her vulnerability makes my chest squeeze. “Come here.” I hold out my hand.

  She loses the swagger when she comes back to me and places her hand in mine so easily. So trusting. Just like last night when she told that asshole Russian I was hers. Damn straight, I’m hers. I’m glad she knows it.

  “Let me get changed, okay?”

  The way she looks up at me with those long-lashed hazel eyes makes the floor tilt. “Sure.”

  We head to the room I booked in the same hotel. “I’m going to have to go shopping for beach clothes,” I admit. I brought swim trunks, but that’s about it. My Chicago wardrobe doesn’t have much Tommy Bahama.

  “I’ll go shopping with you,” Jenna pipes up.

  I chuckle at her enthusiasm. She got her degree in fashion merchandising and her father always complains about how much she and her mother shop. “Are you going to be my personal stylist?” I take off my button-down and pull off the undershirt. I might as well get a tan while I’m here.

  “Definitely.” There’s a twinkle in her eye and I enjoy the way she watches me, like she’s drinking in the sight of my bare chest and tattooed arms.

  “Like what you see?” I wink.

  She smiles, but blushes.