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

by Madison Faye

  “Fuck, yeah. I do.” I close my eyes, relaxing into his strong warmth. His long fingers are magic on my skin. I shift my thighs wider, wishing for a touch between them, but he doesn’t go there.

  “On your feet, then, girl.” He puts his hands onto my waist and shifts me to my feet. “When I use the belt, you’re going to lean over the bed, thighs as wide as you can go, because you trust me to hit your ass just right.” He runs his hands over my ass cheeks. “Now you can take off the panties, before I start. I want to see your wet pussy while I whip you.”

  I slide off the soaked panties and toss them aside then get into position. My whole body is awake, each nerve ending singing. When I spread my thighs and feel the cool air on my pussy, I shudder.

  He takes the belt from the bed where I left it earlier, and doubles it up. I can see him; he’s standing to the side of the bed, well in my view. I prop myself up on my elbows, legs still wide, to watch. His chest muscles ripple as he moves, and I want to trace each contour with my tongue, my fingers, over and over again. How is it possible that this perfect man is here with me right now?

  He watches me watching and a small smile plays on his lips. “Like the show?” He uses one hand to unbutton his jeans, showing me more of his dark trail of hair that leads to the shadows hidden within. I lick my lips. “Tell me what you want, baby girl. You want Daddy’s cock?”

  “I want your cock, Daddy.” I rub my breasts against the cover, shift my thighs. The fabric is a poor substitution for his fingers. “I want to feel you inside me.”

  “Not yet, though,” he reminds me, as his elegant fingers tease the top of his zipper. “You’re gonna wait until we’re both more than ready.”

  I stare as he drags the zipper down a mere half inch, revealing barely enough of what I’m dying to see. “Patience is a virtue, baby girl. You’ll learn it, with me. I like a little delayed gratification.”

  I moan, frustrated and delighted with the game. “You’re such an asshole.”

  “Oh, is that right?” He cocks a brow. “Tsk, tsk. Such bad language from my girl. Definitely means you need extra from the belt. As I recall, I don’t even know if you’re going to be allowed to come, remember?”

  I whine in dismay as he smiles. “If I were you, I’d be trying a whole hell of a lot harder to fucking behave.” He pins me with his eyes. “Yes?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I breathe, unable to look away. “I promise I’ll be so good for the belt.” I adjust my stance, wishing he were between my legs, pushing into my body. Imagining how good his hands would feel, running over my sides, my breasts, my belly. “Please.”

  “You think I’m just teasing.” His voice rolls over me, warm and rich. “You think you’re getting an O no matter what happens. But maybe I’m serious, baby girl. Maybe I mean it. Maybe I’ll spank you red and fuck your ass and leave you wet and wanting, just to remind you who’s in charge. Maybe I’ll fuck you and come, but you’ll need to wait until later, when I take you a second time.”

  I whimper again at the thought, dismay and arousal warring in my body.

  “And you know what?” he continues, in that same slow drawl, as if he’s thinking aloud, voicing these thoughts for the very first time. “The more I think about it, the hotter that is. Fuck, baby. I’d be teaching you a lesson and fulfilling a fantasy at the very same time. So you better be very, very good right now if you want the slightest chance of coming anytime soon.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” I can barely get out the words. My heart is hammering so hard I can practically hear it. My blood is a roaring river in my veins, pulsing fast and strong, sending filaments of desire all through me, even to my fingertips, filling them with gold and stars and glitter. It’s been a long time since I had this; my ex and I were into spanking play, and I crave it.

  “Get ready. Count them.” His voice is hard now, and he moves out of my peripheral vision. I sense him behind me, smell his cologne and scent. “Stick that ass up higher.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” I tilt my pelvis, pointing my ass toward him.

  “Good girl. Here it comes.”

  Chapter Five

  The belt swishes and strikes. At first, I feel the cool pressure, and then a stripe of fire across my ass. I cry out and jerk, never prepared for the first strike, no matter how often I do this. And I don’t want to be prepared, because I fucking love the rush of it, the newness, the way it’s too much and just right at the same time.

  “Shit,” I whisper, fisting the cover in both hands, lifting one leg. I put it down and shift. “Fuck.”

  But I don’t count.

  I look back over my shoulder; he’s standing there, eyes on fire, mouth a firm line, muscles on display, some Greek god of a man, a Botticelli painting, a sculpture by the masters. And he’s mine. Fucking mine for tonight, his whole focus on me and my body.

  “I didn’t hear one. That strike didn’t count. Eyes forward, baby girl.”

  The belt kisses my ass with a stripe of flame, hitting both cheeks evenly, and I cry out and jerk. “One.”

  “Good girl. Relax that ass.” The belt falls again, and again. Again. Somewhere in there, I say two. But it takes me a while to get to three.

  By the time I get to eight, countless strokes later, I’m breathing hard, murmuring to myself and to him, little cries and sounds, gasps. He steps in and strokes my ass, my hip, my thighs. “Jesus, you’re fucking marked up. For me. Goddamn, baby girl.”

  He puts his palm across the crease of my ass and presses two long fingers into my wetness, and I sob with the deliciousness of the touch, the way the pleasure contrasts with the burn in my ass.

  “Two more,” he says. “They’re going to hurt, and then I’m going to take you to fucking heaven.”

  “Do it,” I gasp.

  He strikes me twice in a row, the hardest ones yet, and I cry out his name, needing him. “Daddy!” I beg. “Please, please.”

  He knows what I want. In a second, he strips his pants and boxers and pulls me up and into his body. “What a good girl you were, taking the belt,” he whispers, his voice harsh in my ear. “I think you’ve earned your reward.”

  “God, please.” I’m incoherent now, and he loves it. I can tell, because his hands are all over me, hungry, as ravenous as his eyes were earlier. Each time he touches me, it’s like a circuit lighting up, lights coming on, glowing, electricity thrumming each nerve ending into new life. I moan and touch him back, needing his body under my hands. It’s my air; I need his fucking skin to survive.

  “How do you want it? Since you were so good, I’ll let you choose.” He runs his hands over my breasts. “You want me from behind, or you want to ride?”

  “Ride.” I have so much energy coursing through me that there’s no other choice. I’m going to take us both to paradise.

  “Just the way I like it.” He gets up and goes to his pants and retrieves a condom from the pocket. “Hope you don’t mind that I came prepared.”

  “I don’t mind at all.” I can barely wait. “Just hurry.”

  He dons the condom and lies back on the bed, his stomach muscles rippling, and even through my haze of desire I can’t help but do a mental whistle. Fuck, he’s ripped! “Get on and do your thing, baby girl. I want your tits in my face, too.”

  I get on all fours and toss one leg over him, and hover above his cock. “You want me right now? Maybe I should get myself off and make you wait for later for your own orgasm,” I tease, reaching down to stroke my clit. I’m so wet that my fingers are immediately slick with my own juices, and the silky sensation makes me moan. “See this? You want this, Daddy? You’re gonna need to ask nicely.”

  He smiles up at me, eyelashes brushing his cheeks. “I think I already asked with the belt. You need more of that to make it clear?”

  I shake my head. “Try again.”

  He reaches up and grabs my ass. “Like this? You nice and sore, Kiera? You like having my marks on your ass? You’re gonna feel this tomorrow every fucking time you sit down, and that is so godd
amn hot.”

  “I will feel it,” I murmur, grinding a little, but only a little, before I pull back up. “Each time I sit down, I’ll wince and remember how you put each stripe down with that belt. How you teased me and spanked me and made me insane with desire.”

  “Yeah,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening on my hips. “Now slide that pretty pussy down on my cock, or I swear I’ll flip you over and take your ass right this minute instead and make you beg until tomorrow for your orgasm.”

  “Is that so?” I wiggle my body and take him into me, just an inch. “Like this?”

  “Almost.” He guides me down, his grip sure and strong. “More like this, though.”

  He fills me, his cock hard and thick, and I gasp. “Fuck, Zach.”

  He doesn’t seem to care that I’ve stopped calling him Daddy. “Yeah, baby, take me all the way in,” he demands, pulling my hips, pressing me further onto him, until he’s balls-deep and I’m so full, the sensation so intense, that I can barely stand it.

  I bend over his body and press my palms into the bed on either side of his head, my breasts above his face. “You going to suck my tits while I ride you?” I demand, slowly rising up before sinking back down.

  “Fuck, yes,” he says, and puts his arm around my back, pulling me down to his mouth. When his lips close over my hard nipple, I cry out at the pleasure. When he bites down, I whimper.

  “You want more?” he asks.

  I nod, eyes shut.

  “Then be a good girl and ride me, and you’ll get more of that,” he promises. So I do. Shifting my thighs, I find the position that works, and together we build a rhythm, slowly at first, then faster. Harder. Soon his fingers are gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises, and I fucking love it. He’s picking me up and pulling me back down on his cock, a punishing, hard pattern, and it’s getting me so hot that I start to tremble. We’re moving in unison, and my clit rubs against his cock each time I move, and the orgasm starts to build, so hot and bright I know I can’t hold it back.

  “I’m going to come,” I cry out, an exhortation, a promise, a plea.

  “Not until I give you permission,” he demands, letting go with one hand so he can reach back and slap my ass. On top of the belt stripes, the additional spank stings so good.

  “But… please.” I’ll hold back because he asked, but it’s not easy. I’m on the edge, and the slightest motion will tip me over.

  “You’re going to do what I say, when I say it,” he commands me, as I ride him. Up, down. “You’re going to get naked when I ask, and bend over the bed when I want to spank you. If I tell you to suck my cock, you’ll do it, because I’m your daddy. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, please.” I’m getting frantic with the need to come. If the orgasm slips out, it won’t be a good one; if he lets me embrace it, it will be phenomenal. “I need to come. Please.”

  “Tell me, who’s your daddy?”

  “You are, Zach. God, you’re my daddy, I’ll do what you want, I promise, I swear.”

  I’d vow anything and everything in this moment. I’m so far gone, and he knows it, and I know it. And I fucking love it; being able to let go, to this place where I can fly.

  “Then come.” His words are barely out before I clench around his cock, my pussy convulsing. The feeling bursts through me and grows, filling my pelvis with liquid joy, suffusing my veins with a sensation so glorious that I cry out things that have no meaning, only sounds of pleasure.

  He comes too, and it spurs me to another orgasm, and I ride him until we both collapse together, sweaty and spent.

  I love this feeling. The orgasm was spectacular, a bright shot of light to the heart, but this extended bliss, a sort of flying relaxed exhilaration, nearly rivals it, although the pleasure is softer, more diffused. Light through dappled leaves. Birdsong in the distance, clear and perfect on fresh air. The memory of one perfect kiss, one perfect fuck. My nerves still firing, but relaxing, and releasing more sensation into my body as they do.

  I think he’s feeling it, too; he strokes my arm softly, up and down, like the beat to a song that only we hear. A song that pulses with both of our hearts, music that runs through our veins, feeding our souls.

  He rubs my ass, too, soothing it, although I’m so full of chemical bliss that there’s no pain of any kind in my body, no discomfort, only a lasting warmth in my belly. It’s like a low-level orgasm that never stopped, and it’s fucking phenomenal.

  “Give me one second.” He gets up and goes to the bathroom; comes back without the condom. He gets back into the bed and pulls me to him.

  “Sore?” He touches my ass.

  “Nope. Just all good right now.”

  He kisses my shoulder. “I’ll rub in lotion later to make sure.”

  “Later. Right now just hold me.” I nestle up closer, and he obliges, wrapping his arms around me. I like the way his muscles press into my shoulders and chest. “You feel good.”

  “Likewise.”

  I weave my leg into his. “Your legs are so hard.”

  “Oh, my leg is hard?” He chuckles. “That’s your takeaway?”

  “In addition to other things.” I reach down between us and insert my hand, resting it on his cock, which is still partly hard. “Like this. Nice and hard.”

  “I’ll get there again soon, if you keep doing that.” Indeed, I can feel him twitch in my palm. I stroke softly, teasing him, just enjoying the feeling of his body.

  “Mmm…” he says, and for a few minutes we don’t speak.

  I touch him, then relax my hand, laying it flat against his hip, and he keeps stroking my shoulder, my hair, my arm. I want him again, but first I need to breathe. Come back into my body, so I can fly out of it more easily.

  After a while, he pats my butt. “Time for that lotion, baby girl.” He groans as he rolls over and gets up. “You’ll thank me later.” He looks around. “Tell me where to find it.” He laughs.

  “Check my small travel bag.” I point to the bathroom, where I left my cosmetic bag. “I’ve got lotion in there, if you really insist.”

  “I do.” He grins. “I’ll clean up and take care of you.”

  I watch, fascinated, as he strolls across the room, naked and confident. His sculpted physique is perfection, and once again, I’m taken aback, grateful that in this moment, he’s mine to touch and enjoy.

  “Turn over and give me that ass,” he demands, when he returns. I giggle, rolling over to present my butt cheeks.

  “Still a little red. Nice stripes.” He flips the lid with a click and then a cool drizzle of fluid hits my skin. “Relax,” he soothes, and I unclench my muscles as he strokes and glides his hands, the gentlest of massages. I sigh once and again, a deep, shuddering movement from my chest, an exorcism I didn’t know I needed—and then I’m limp and quiet, my mind at peace. The only things that exist are his hands, my skin, and this glorious relaxation.

  * * *

  “Ready for round two?” He hands me a bottle of water. “Or do you need sustenance first. I can heat up that lasagna from Hazel. FYI, she puts provolone cheese in the middle and it’s as good as any award-winning restaurant in New York.”

  “Have you been there?” I accept the water and swig it.

  “Used to live there.” He sits beside me. “For about five years, working as a CPA.”

  “And now you run a garage? That’s a pretty big change.” I set the bottle on the night table and shift on the mattress. It’s old, but very comfortable, and the flowered comforter is soft.

  He laughs. “Well, I can do my own taxes, at least. No, I was always good with cars, good with my hands. When my marriage fell apart, I realized I was tired of the whole life I was living. Hollow, you know?”

  I nod, although I don’t know, not yet—but I will. The nod is a sign that I want to know him, learn him, get him. His secrets. His passions.

  “I get what you mean about hollow. The good part about it, if there is one?” I think for a second to get the words right. �
�When you’re hollow, it means there’s that much more room to fill up with something spectacular. There’s room. You don’t need to empty out the crap first.”

  He touches my arm. “Exactly right.” His touch is soft, but immediately sparks shoot to life along my skin and through my chest and stomach.

  “You want to fill me up?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him and smile, intending it to be a dirty joke, but his mouth is on mine before the words are done, his tongue on mine, and then the only thing in my mind is Zach. His touch. Touching him. I can’t get enough, just like before, and my hands are starved for him; even as I touch, I need more.

  He suddenly pulls back from me; smiles. “If you really want me to fill you up, I can do that, baby girl. I’m one hundred percent clean. Can pull up my recent test results from my phone. Doc stores them on-line now.”

  “Mine does too.” I answer quickly. “Okay. Let’s trade.”

  “Yeah?” He quirks a brow.

  I nod. “Yes.” I flush. “Go for it.”

  “All right, then.” He adjusts himself, laughs, then gets up to grab his phone, and he also brings my purse so I can fish mine out. It’s the work of a few minutes for both of us to log into our respective systems and compare data. It’s times like these that I’m incredibly fucking grateful for modern technology.

  And then his mouth is back on mine, our hands on each other, and I want him even more.

  It’s not long before his cock hardens under my fingers, iron in my palm. I stroke up and down, rubbing my hand over the head.

  “Lie back,” I encourage, running both palms over his quads. “I want to do something.”

  Chapter Six

  “What do you want?” he asks, like he doesn’t fucking already know. He’s all compliance, leaning back, adjusting his head on the pillow. He looks down at me through those long black lashes, and his cock juts up to his belly, hard and thick.

  “Maybe I’m going to read you my favorite translation of Anna Karenina,” I say, teasing his inner thigh with my finger, running it all the way up to the juncture.