Daddy's Demands: Twenty-Five Steamy Daddy Dom Romance Novellas
Page 115
Then, suddenly, as sirens wailed in the distance, a heavyset thug in a very expensive suit appeared on the scene with two other men who could easily be his clones. As the man approached, her would-be abductor let go of her hair and ran off. Helena found herself being lifted off her feet and carried over to a black Range Rover. As the big guy who’d rescued her deposited her on the back seat, he gave her a reassuring smile.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said, his Italian accent telling her that this was Jacob’s bodyguard. “Mr. Brentwood’s on his way.”
* * *
Jacob arrived at the address Marco had texted him to find a scene of utter chaos. Dozens of women were milling about and there were several police officers on the scene. His heart lurched as he spotted an ambulance with its lights flashing. He raced over to it, but Helena wasn’t the woman being tended to. It was the redhead she’d been at that club with, the night he met Helena. She was sitting up, talking to the paramedic who was cleaning a nasty cut above her eye. When she spotted him approaching, she gave him a nervous smile and pointed across the lot to where Marco’s car sat.
He hurried over and relieved Marco, who was standing guard at the door. He would get the other man’s version of events later but, for now, all he wanted was to hug his girl. He slid into the car next to her and pulled her into his arms.
“I’m okay,” Helena said after the longest silence.
“Yeah?” Jacob had no words to express his relief, so he quickly looked over her to check that was true. There were grazes on her elbows and her jeans were ripped at the knee, but she seemed to be unhurt.
“Guess my t-shirt did the job.”
Jacob’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
“You know,” she gestured to the words emblazoned across her chest and then pointed out the window, “girl power.”
He looked out of the window and it occurred to him that an off-street parking lot behind what seemed to be a very building was a strange place for a load of women to have congregated. When he turned back to Helena, the question must have been written across his face.
“It’s a women’s shelter,” she said with a smile.
A shelter? Jacob suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Had she been trying to take refuge here? He thought back over the last few days. As far as he was concerned, nothing he’d done had overstepped the mark. He’d disciplined Helena, that was true, but he hadn’t done her any harm. Or had he? Perhaps she saw things differently. He searched her face for answers. Apparently reading his mind once more, Helena expectedly barked out a laugh.
“I work here, you idiot,” she giggled.
“Oh, thank fuck for that.” Jacob let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in. “So, you’re not here because you think I abused you?”
Helena snorted. “I’ve been around battered women long enough to know the difference between abuse and loving discipline.”
Jacob breathed another sigh of relief. Her words—loving discipline—showed him that she understood the nature of their relationship better than he’d thought. He found it odd, though, that a woman brought up in the lap of luxury as Helena had been, would want to work at a place like this.
“Why are you helping out at a place like this?” he asked.
“I made a donation once, and they invited me down to see what my money would be spent on,” Helena explained. “When I got here and spoke to some of the women and their kids, I knew I wanted to do more. I run a literacy program.”
“Literacy?”
“Yes, I have a degree in English. I’ve just completed a PhD thesis on literacy in education.” Helena shook her head despairingly. “You really don’t know the first thing about me, do you?”
“Seems not, but I’m going to get to know you a whole lot better,” Jacob promised.
“And I’ll look forward to that,” Helena said, “but first, do you think you could go out there and make sure the police aren’t planning to charge any of the women? Things got thrown and there was a bit of a scuffle before they arrested Carrie’s scummy boyfriend, but they were only trying to help me.”
Jacob clenched his eyes tightly. Just what the hell had gone on here? He opened his eyes to find Helena looking expectantly at him.
“Okay, I’ll go straighten things out,” he said, “but rest assured, when we get home, you and I are going to have a long talk about all this.”
“And, of course, you’ll need to punish me for causing this mess.”
“Yes, I will,” Jacob said sternly. He was itching to redden her gorgeous little butt again and, from the way she bit her lip, he could tell that Helena could hardly wait either.
Epilogue
With her ankles and wrists securely tied to the bench with sturdy leather cuffs, there was no room for maneuvering. Helena sighed as she heard Jacob pacing about behind her. In the last week, they’d done a lot of talking. In fact, all they’d done was talk. Worried that she was suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress, he’d refused to give her the spanking she craved after they got home from the shelter. Instead he’d dedicated every moment to taking care of her, making sure she was fed and watered. He’d even helped her to bathe. She was sure, however that it was just an excuse to sneak a peek at her goodies since he wasn’t prepared to sample them while she recovered from her ordeal.
They’d really gotten to know each other in the last seven days. She’d told Jacob about her ambitions and to her surprise, he’d promised to help her set up her charitable foundation. He was even prepared to let her continue volunteering at the shelter, provided a bodyguard accompanied her. In exchange, she promised to take a more active interest in Carmichael’s, but he agreed she didn’t have to run the company. In fact, he very quickly lined up a woman who’d once dated his younger brother to fill the role of CEO in her stead.
Everything was close to perfect. Although the man who’d tried to help Martin abduct her hadn’t been caught yet, she knew she was safe here with Jacob. Her only concern was Carrie, who’d unwittingly brought Martin into their lives. It wasn’t something her friend would easily recover from.
“You’re thinking too much.” That deep, masculine voice came from behind her. That rich Scottish accent still sent shivers down her spine.
“Sorry.”
He made that little nasal sound that told her he wasn’t entirely convinced by her apology. A moment later, fire flashed across her bottom as his belt struck her.
“Fuuuuudge!” she shrieked, narrowly avoiding a breach of his rule about bad language.
Was he really going to give her ten of these? As the next two blows fell one after the other, she got her answer. She made an inhuman sound and danced up on her toes, as far as the leather cuffs securing her ankles to the spanking bench would allow. It was pain like she’d never known before.
“Settle down, sweetheart.” Jacob’s voice was soothing but it didn’t really help.
Helena wriggled, cried, and yelled as he continued to strike her with the thick leather belt. By the time he approached the count of nine, she had no idea which end of her was the reddest. Her face was crimson with mortification as she lay there helplessly exposed and her arse was throbbing with intense heat.
Jacob ran his hand over her inflamed flesh. The coolness of his palm soothed the burn a little.
“Oh, baby,” he teased, “we could heat the entire city off the glow from your wee arse.”
Helena’s jaw tightened.
“Is this really the time to be making alternative energy jokes?” she hissed.
“Perhaps not.” She felt his lips, soft against her poor punished flesh as he gave her a tender kiss. “Two more.”
Helena braced herself and the next lick of the belt lit up her right butt cheek. She screeched and writhed on the bench, abrading her already sensitive nipples and sending a jolt of something wonderful straight to her dripping pussy. The belt whistled through the air and landed for the final time. This time it fell between her legs, curling upw
ard so the stiff leather flicked across her engorged clit.
As she screamed in shock, a gush of liquid flooded from Helena’s pussy. She had no time to think about what that said about her relationship with pain as Jacob quickly untied her and pulled her up from the bench. He carried her to the bed and dropped her onto it. She winced as her aching bottom hit the mattress. Jacob removed his pants and boxer shorts quickly and came down onto the bed, between her legs. She was soaking wet so there was no need for foreplay. He thrust straight into her welcoming sheath, filling her completely. He drove into her at a relentless pace, worshipping her breasts with his mouth, groaning in pleasure as he laid claim to her.
Helena’s whole body seemed to lift off the bed as he sucked a nipple into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth. As he fucked her furiously, she knew it wouldn’t take long to reach her peak. Her womb fluttered as it was gripped by tight little spasms and she could hear nothing but the blood rushing through her veins. As Jacob stilled inside her, she flew over the edge with a cry of ecstasy.
Boneless and utterly spent, she was glad when Jacob pulled her into his arms and held her close.
“Well, sweetheart, what do you say?” he asked as he propped himself up on his elbow to look into her eyes.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she replied with a contented smile.
They’d talked about that as well and Helena had realized that a daddy dom was just what she needed. He would care for her, protect her, and punish her when necessary. That he looked like a Celtic god didn’t hurt, of course. She sighed once more and snuggled into his side as her eyes began to close. Life just couldn’t get any better than this. She was home.
The End
About Sassa Daniels
Sassa Daniels is an Amazon bestselling author who likes her romance novels with a little extra spice. Writing sci-fi, contemporary, and historical erotic romance, she loves to create feisty heroines and the hot, dominant males who aren’t afraid to take them over their knee for a thorough spanking. When she isn’t hard at work on her latest book, she enjoys roaming the Scottish countryside in search of new inspiration.
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Bodyguard Daddy by Marlee Wray
Chapter One
Jaxson stood at the terrazzo counter chopping peppers when the hammering on his door started. His gaze slid to the bolted steel door. The former Ranger was not the sort of guy people dropped in on unannounced.
He glanced at the skylight. Rain pattered down from a dark sky. After setting the knife on the slate cutting board, he retrieved his gun. He checked the camera feed and spotted a small soaked girl standing on his step. She looked to be in her early twenties. Roughly a hundred and ten pounds. Brown hair. The girl looked over her shoulder and then knocked again. Terrified of something, or more likely someone.
He unlatched the bar and opened the heavy door.
She looked up at him, her wet clothes clinging to her slim curves, her spiked lashes framing big brown eyes.
“Please,” she said, looking again over her shoulder. “Can I come in to call the police?”
A sweep of her revealed she had no purse, no phone, no shoes. There was only one reason a woman ran to a stranger’s door with nothing more than the clothes on her back. She’d fled from somewhere in fear of her life.
He stepped out of the doorway to let her in, glancing into the darkness before he shut the door and dropped the bar in place. To get through it, her pursuer would need a battering ram.
Of course, if some asshole was fool enough to try to get in uninvited, Jaxson would just open the door and deal with him. Hell, he’d take pleasure in neutralizing the threat that had forced a barefoot, defenseless girl to run through the rain in fear. That was a guy who deserved a direct approach. Like a fist to the face.
“May I borrow your phone?”
“No cops.”
She blinked. “I-I don’t understand.” She had pale pink lips and creamy, luminous skin. She was very pretty, with high cheekbones and long dark lashes. If he’d had a type, she would’ve been it.
“Once in, they can move around at will. No cops inside.”
She looked around at his place, which had been converted from a warehouse storage unit. It was basically a concrete box. The walls were textured and painted light gray and trimmed with blue and charcoal. There were rugs over big stretches of the glossy sealed concrete. The furniture and fixtures, including a sort of industrial chandelier, had come mostly from Restoration Hardware. The place looked rich, which made sense, since he was now. He could take zero credit for the fact that his place could’ve been a design show’s ‘After’ feature. It was the work of a former play partner who was an interior designer.
The girl stood dripping wet and shivering, feet dirty. She reminded him of a kitten his little sister had rescued from an alley.
“Come with me,” Jax said.
She stood frozen to the spot, clearly unwilling to venture farther without reassurance.
“The bathroom has towels,” he said. “It also has a shower with hot water.”
She stared at him. Skittish. Probably had good reason to be. He was six feet two inches of solid muscle, and this little thing was used to men who couldn’t be trusted.
“Or stick with hypothermia if that’s working for you.”
She rubbed her bare arms, which were covered in gooseflesh. He didn’t look at her chest. One glance at the swell of her breasts and tight nipples had been enough. He was not a window shopper. If he looked at a girl’s body more than once, it was with an eye toward getting his hands on it.
“A towel would be good. Could I—if you won’t let me call the police, could you drop me off at a police station?”
“Yes.”
“You will?”
“Sure.”
Some of the tension drained from her, her shoulders lowering.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” she said softly.
“Seems like there are special circumstances,” he said. Then he left her, walking through his bedroom to the bathroom. He came back and handed her a large white towel.
She immediately rubbed it over her skin vigorously. “They can’t really help; the police, I mean. Actually, you might as well just drop me at home. He won’t hang around there now. He’ll expect the police to be the ones bringing me back. It’s the day after tomorrow and the one after that that I need to worry about.” She bit her lip.
“An ex?”
She nodded. “I’m so sorry I came here. I know this isn’t your problem. It’s just there aren’t many places to run to, and I thought…you seem like the kind of guy who’s able to handle himself.”
He smiled. That was certainly an understatement. “How did you know who lived here?”
“I’ve seen you come and go. Spotted you running and on your way to the gym.”
“How would you know where I was going?” he asked.
Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry. I keep a close eye on my surroundings. I wasn’t trying to spy on you.”
He shrugged. “Outside I’ve got no expectation of privacy. Just surprised that you’ve seen enough of me to judge what I’m like. The windows on my Corvette are tinted. This place is a concrete box with skylights. You can’t have seen much of me.” He waited.
“Tuesday you must have forgotten something. You went back in with your duffle bag. You had on workout clothes. I figured the mornings you leave at six a.m. and come back at seven-thirty, you’re going to a gym.”
He flashed a smile. “Impressive reconnaissance.”
“Thanks. Too bad keeping such a sharp eye didn’t help,” she said, glancing at the door. “He still caught me by surprise.”
“Did you come here thinking he might try to bust in and I’d take care him? Seeing as I’m a guy who looks like he can handle himself?”
She shook her head. “It was just the safest place nearby. I like your door. It doesn’t seem like the kind of door
someone could kick in easily.”
“Has he done that? Kicked your door open?”
“Not yet, but he’s forced one open when I tried to close it on him.”
He was getting more and more pissed by the moment. “Fancies himself a badass, huh?”
“I guess,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I don’t know.”
He studied her. This was none of his business, but it was tough not to get involved when a girl was dripping rain on his floor and looking up at him like she needed help.
She nodded. “I’m sorry to show up like this. It’s not how I wanted to meet you.”
He cocked an eyebrow, trying to ignore the fact that this vulnerable girl and her wet tank had given him a hard-on. “You were planning to introduce yourself?”
“Yes, I hoped to. Under different circumstances. I’m Ellafay.”
It took a moment for the girl’s online identity to register. He wasn’t active in the closed BDSM Facebook group that had been started by one of the girls from Lair Twelve, the club Jax was a silent partner in. Wes, Lair’s principle owner, was active online in the group and had been talking to a girl, Ellafay, who’d been involved in some bad scenes and was planning to move to the area.
“Do you—?” she began.
He held up a hand to quiet her and pulled his cell from his pocket. He called Wes.
“Hey,” Wes said.
“Hey. You know a girl who goes by Ellafay online, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve DM’d with her. Skyped with her once. Why? She message you through FB?”
“No, she’s here.”
“Where? The club?”
“No, my place.”
“Your place? How’d she find it?”
“We haven’t talked about that yet. You did some due diligence?”