Protective Daddy

by Lena Little

  “Yeah,” I grumble into the phone.

  I’m still pissed off that Eric called at this hour, but realistically I’m just mad that nothing happened between his daughter and me last night…because I made sure of it. As much as I wanted to take her, claim her all the way once and for all, I told her to go to her room, shut the door and not come downstairs the rest of the night.

  Her first time needs to be special. Our first time needs to be special and I need to do it right.

  “You sound like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

  “How old is this couch of yours?”

  “Couch? I told you you could sleep in my bed.”

  “I’m not sleeping in another man’s bed. It doesn’t feel right.” I sit up and think of the hypocrisy of my last statement. I won’t sleep in his bed but I’m dying to sleep in his daughter’s.

  “Pickup got delayed. Likely gonna be an extra couple days on top of what we figured.”

  “Roger that,” I confirm, not needing to talk about this any more on a phone.

  “Layla there?”

  “Probably sleeping.”

  “Can you put her on anyway?”

  I sit up and try and catch my bearings, my head still dizzy as I lumber up the stairs. When I reach her door I see that it’s cracked open. I’m not sure if I should knock or peek inside to see if she’s asleep. Does she sleep in the nude?

  Damn, this is too much.

  “Layla,” I call out, banging on the wall next to her door. “Your father wants to speak with you.”

  A few seconds later I see my angel, sleep still in her eyes, her hair every which way, her face covered in marks from her pillow…and she’s still the most beautiful girl on the face of the earth.

  She takes the phone, smiles, and then her hand reaches around and slaps my ass. “For waking me up,” she tries to justify. I make a mental note to return the favor later. Disobedience will not go unpunished.

  She glides back to her bed, covered only in a sheet. I swear she looks like an angel, and her voice this morning sounds like it too. I just lean against the doorjamb, watching as she talks with her dad.

  Seeing her like this, this morning has my dick harder than a rock and there’s no hiding it considering I’ve got nothing on other than my boxers. I want to see her this vulnerable, this perfect, every morning for the rest of our lives. I want to march right over there to her bed and touch her, run my hands along every inch of her and welcome her into the day…as she welcomes my thickness into my body. That’s how every morning should start out for the rest of our lives, and I vow to make that a reality damn soon.

  Gripping the doorjamb so hard I feel the wood creak underneath my fingers. I want her like a fiend, want to grab her thighs and spread them open, placing my mouth on her pretty little pussy and tasting her all over again.

  My mind races back to the thought of that boy who was here yesterday. Maybe I overreacted to him being over, and then again maybe not. There was just something about knowing he was here in the house with her, alone…knowing he could be flirting with her, touching her, making her laugh, kissing her, all of it…it drives me crazy. Just thinking of any boy or man with Layla makes me jealous. She should be spending her time with me.

  I rap my knuckles on the door and run my finger in a circle, signaling she needs to finish up the call. Her dad’s close to the delivery point and we don’t need anyone tracing our call and placing him at the scene when things go down. As much as I’d like to stare at her all day we’ve got things to do.

  “Almost done,” she says, her pretty little lips forming the words just before she licks them to provide some more moisture to combat morning dehydration.

  I say nothing, and neither does she. We just stare at each other for several seconds, our gazes trained on each other.

  She pats the bed next to her, offering me a place, and I just shake my head because I don’t trust my voice right now. Instead, I move toward the stairs, making my way downstairs. This is so wrong on so many levels. I should have been stronger and just stayed away. I should have just come over to check on her while her dad was gone. Hell, I should be the one who went for the pickup like I always do, but I sent him away so I could be with his daughter…the one I’ve wanted since her eighteenth birthday. No other woman compares to her, no one else on earth interests me one bit.

  When I reach the downstairs area I go straight to the kitchen and tip back a huge glass of water. Out of nowhere, I feel tiny hands wrap around my waist and an equally small head burrow into my back. “Mornin’,” she greets me.

  I set the glass down, afraid if I turn around too quickly I might slice her in two with my rock hard dick. So I move slowly until we’re face to face.

  “Kiss me,” she demands, causing me to groan like a wild animal. I run the back of my hand across her porcelain cheek and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, my hand continuing right along until it’s behind her head. Cupping her skull through her golden locks I move her head toward mine as my own face closes the distance between us, my lips claiming hers. It’s clear she’s already brushed her teeth, but even if she hadn’t I wouldn’t care. I sweep my tongue between her parted lips and move it in rhythm with hers.

  She whimpers softly and my cock jerks violently in my pants.

  My other hand finds the small of her back and I jerk her into me, causing her to throw her legs around me and herself fully into my arms.

  With her breasts pressed square against the center of my chest I can feel her hard nipples through the material of the oversized white tank top she put on before coming down. The one that’s razor-thin, clearly worn in after years of use. Add in the fact that she has no bra on underneath and I’m damn close to fisting my cock and sliding it right into her entrance, starting the day with some real life fireworks.

  She continues to grind her little body against me and I move toward the counter, sitting her down and pulling back.

  Her breath is ragged and I inhale deeply, trying to get oxygen to my brain so I can think straight. The look on her face is one of admiration…for me, and damnit if I don’t feel the same about her.

  “We need to stop. It’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever had to do, but it needs to be done.”

  She says nothing, the entire house silent.

  “I don’t want to stop.”

  “I don’t either, and tonight, when the time is right, we won’t. Ever again.”

  7

  Layla

  “You keep looking at me that way, little girl, and you’re going to find yourself over Daddy’s knee again,” Logan warns, his voice low and grating like sandpaper.

  “Maybe I want that,” I counter, my whole body covering in goosebumps at the thought, and knowing that he wants this just as much as I do.

  “Before this goes any further we need to talk,” he says, taking a drink from his water glass, which the waiter we have specifically for our table quickly refills.

  The entire drive over to the restaurant I thought Logan was going to rip the steering wheel clean off his Range Rover. He was gripping it that tight. I just sat in the passenger seat, watching him operate his SUV effortlessly, weaving in and out of traffic and making almost all the lights, but always doing it safely. Most of the time other cars just deferred to him, just as people do in real life. As a small person, and a young woman, power is something I’m not used to feeling. When I’m next to Logan it just rolls off him and I feel it by osmosis.

  He’s so masculine and so raw, and people respond to that, giving him a wide berth. I respond to that, wanting to open up for him but in a different way.

  “What do you want to talk about?” I question, unknowingly mirroring his movements and taking a drink of my own water. I’d asked for something alcoholic but Logan insisted neither of us drink. He wanted our minds clear, fresh, and fully in the moment promising me that there would be decisions to be made tonight which would change our lives forever.

  And he pulled no punches
when he told me that if those decisions lead to where he wants them to lead, that he wants to be completely sober to experience me fully, his senses not dulled one bit.

  “The most important thing in the world. You.”

  “Me?”

  “I want to know what you want in life. I want to know your dreams, desires, and fantasies.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can fulfill them. All of them.”

  I reach for my water glass again and polish it off. My mouth still feels dry and my body temperature soars. “There are things I want and probably a lot of things I don’t even know I want. That’s where exploring together comes in, and also your experience,” I say, admitting I know what I don’t know.

  “The experienced side of me says you deserve sweet and gentle your first time, and I’m trying to do everything I can to give it to you. The animal in me says otherwise, and right now it’s a tug of war with no clear winner.”

  “I want you just how you want me. I want to feel your power, your rawness. I want to see you lose control, because of me,” I confess.

  “I lost control at your birthday party, haven’t been in control since.” A dark look of possessiveness covers his face as he stares right back at me. He slides a hand across the table and takes mine in his. “But I want to know what you want from your life. You still haven’t answered me and it’s important.”

  “I love books, so maybe an author. But I need more time to think about it because no one’s ever asked me that,” I ponder.

  “It’s time someone did. And it’s time for something else.” He pauses. “An apology.”

  “An apology?” my head shoots back in surprise. “For what?”

  “For limiting your choices. For not letting you move away for college. For not letting other men talk to you. For everything.”

  “My dad wouldn’t let me go away to college, and I was never limited in the boys who talked to me. I mean, most didn’t, but that’s not your fault.”

  “Yes it is,” he confesses. “I put out the word to stay clear of you. First, because you were a child. Second because of what your dad and I are involved in and I didn’t want anyone snooping around and finding out and destroying the life we had built. Third, it wasn’t your dad that kept you from studying out of state. He actually recommended you do, figured it would be better for business and your safety. That was my decision, and I didn’t budge when he asked a second time. Matter of fact I told him never to bring it up again because you weren’t going anywhere.”

  I pull my hand from his and cross my arms. “You…you were trying to control every part of my life.”

  “There was no trying to it. When I want something done I do it, and that’s exactly what I did when it comes to all parts of your existence.”

  “I’m my own person.”

  “You are now. You’re eighteen. And that’s why we’re not drinking tonight and why I didn’t let things go farther this morning. We needed to have this talk first, so the decision for this to continue can be your own, made with a sound mind.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel right now, after learning this.”

  “Well, let me tell you how I feel,” he offers without my asking, continuing forward in true Logan form. “I feel like throwing you over my shoulder and taking you up to the penthouse suite with the four poster bed surrounded by candles that are waiting on us right now. I feel like putting a ring on your finger and screaming out from that same penthouse for all the world to hear that you’re mine and only mine. I feel like putting a baby in your belly, watching it grow, and then becoming the proudest daddy on the face of the earth. And then doing it all over again and again and again. I feel like if my cock was any harder for you right now it could lift this oak table clear off the ground. That’s how I feel because I want nothing more than to leave my mark inside you, fill you with my come and when it slips from your pussy, I want my dick to stuff it right back inside all night long. I want you tied to that bed upstairs, begging me to let you come as I stare down you pretty little cunt from between your spread legs. I feel like I’ve been starving my entire life, but I didn’t know for what…until you. I want to grow old with you, build a family with you, watch you succeed as an author, and give you all the backing, financial and emotional and any other way I can, that you need to achieve your dreams. I’m your Daddy and that’s exactly why. I want to be there for you in all ways, keeping you safe.”

  I swallow hard.

  “As soon as we finish eating I want to pop your cherry and take your virginity for myself in a night that neither of us will ever forget. And I want that same kind of intimacy, same kind of trust, every night for the rest of our lives. Day, night, morning…it doesn’t matter. I want you, I want this, twenty-five hours a day.”

  I can’t help but giggle. “Twenty-five?”

  “I’m going to find a way to squeeze another hour in just so I can spend even more time with you. We need to make up for all the time we’ve lost, and that starts tonight.”

  “I’m only eighteen, I haven’t lost that much time.”

  “You have no idea. Just the small amount of time since your birthday, those thirty-three days and yes I know to the day how long it’s been because it’s been torture for me not having you every second since that moment. Just imagine all the things we could have been doing for the last thirty-three days.”

  I lick my lips. “Oh my.”

  “If that’s exactly what you want then we’re on the same page. If not, then we’ve got work to do and won’t go to bed until everything is sorted out first. I’m not forcing you into anything until you’re one hundred percent comfortable.”

  “I’m not comfortable at all.”

  Logan cocks a brow and tilts his head to the side and back. “Come again?”

  “I’m not comfortable at all because my panties are drenched, we’re waiting on food which is keeping us from doing what we both want to do, and I’ve wanted you and only you since I knew what feelings for the opposite sex were. So there you go. I’m not comfortable, I’m steaming angry because I’m tired of waiting on this, on us, on you claiming me once and for all.”

  Logan motions for the waiter. “Can you have our food sent up to our room, and just left outside?”

  “Not feeling well, sir?” he asks.

  “I feel great, it’s just that there’s something else on the menu tonight.”

  Logan scoops me up in his arm and carries me in my tiny black dress which he bought me earlier today straight to the bank of elevators.

  I playfully use my shoe to tap the up button and once we’re inside he uses his keycard to unlock the elevator’s authorization to the penthouse.

  The elevator shoots up with lightning speed just as his lips come crashing down on mine.

  8

  Logan

  I kick the penthouse suite’s door shut with my boot and carry my woman to the bedroom, tossing her on the bed.

  “Lie on your back with your legs spread as wide as you can get them, baby girl,” I command almost before she’s rebounded from her bounce on the mattress.

  I growl in approval as she immediately gets busy doing exactly what I said and more, pulling her dress up and over her head and making quick work of her bra and panties.

  “You’re so damn fucking perfect,” I snarl at her as if I were a wolf, and she a fresh piece of meat laid out before me. And truth be told, that’s not far from reality in this moment.

  “Leave those on,” I add, not wanting her to remove the heels. “I want you to feel powerful too and although I know damn near nothing about women’s fashion I know wearing a pair of Christian Louboutin is about as powerful as a woman can feel with clothes on…or off.”

  Even from the end of the bed, I can see her clit pulsing as I take in the sight of her, her body calling out to me. It’s like the entire world went still, the earth tilted on its axis as I just stare at her pussy, knowing it’s mine and no one else’s for eternity.”

  “Mine,” I growl
.

  “I’m yours,” she whimpers.

  “Say it again,” I order, her words like a shot of pride, my chest burning.

  “Yours. I belong to you…Daddy.”

  And that’s it. I can’t take any more of this. It’s time to bury my cock so far inside her and explode so deep against her womb there’s no way she doesn’t wake up tomorrow not pregnant. I’m going to mark her, claim her, for the whole world to see. And if anyone so much as looks at her with a lustful glance I’ll tear them apart limb by limb.

  She’s mine and she means more to me than life itself. And it’s time to show her just how much, starting now and continuing on for the rest of our lives.

  Because that’s exactly what she is to me…the meaning of life.

  Now it’s time to create one, our first child, together.

  9

  Layla

  I can feel a breeze from the window that brushed across my bare pussy and makes the candles flicker. Logan had the room fit for a queen, and this princess, as he calls me sometimes, is ready to become exactly that.

  The look in his eyes tells me he’s on the verge of losing control, the caged animal being set free as he slowly sets that amazing cock of his free, removing his clothes in such a way that I can’t help but drip on the sheets.

  My chest hammers, the breeze not helping with the heat our bodies are emitting. Slowly, he unbuttons his shirt exposing the ink that runs across his chest and down along his arms. Those aren’t hipster tattoos or a fashion statement though, anything but. His ink is well worn, clearly having been put on his body well over a decade ago before tattoos practically became mainstream. He’s so damn masculine, so ahead of the curve in all ways, and I need him to always be mine.

  There’s no faking the man that Logan is, the type of man other men want to be and envy or spite, because they’re not him.