Walk For Me: Club Avalon Book 4

by Kay Elle Parker

  Quivering, Alicia struggled to set aside the dread blinding her and focus on his voice.

  “Some of them are being stupid, playing up, but he gets a couple that are truly scared of whatever he’s asking of them. They’ve known him all their life, he’s never done them any wrong, but what he needs from them is enough to strain that lifelong trust.” Atticus cupped her pussy gently. “So, he takes it slow. Nice and easy, showing them there’s nothing to be afraid of. When he’s beside them or on their back, they can trust him to see them past whatever is so terrifying that they need to run. Because he knows that if he lets that fear get the best of them once, it’s damn well going to rule the rest of their life, and they’re going to miss out on some truly amazing experiences. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

  “I’m a horse?” she joked lamely.

  “No, princess, although you’d make a rather fine filly.” He tested the seam again, light as a feather. “Trust me to lead you up to this and show you there’s absolutely nothing to fear. I’m not going to hurt you, not even a little bit. I’m just going to tease you, stroke you, give you something to ease this anxiety. No pain involved.”

  The muscles in her thighs shivered, well beyond her control. Biting her lip, she argued with herself, telling the broken side of herself that they could trust him. Broken Alicia was adamant she’d rather die than go through that again.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she shoved Broken Alicia into the vault, kicking and screaming dire warnings, and slammed the door.

  Twisting her arm back slightly, she groped for his hand. The arm around her waist keeping her safe loosened, then his fingers wrapped around hers. “I don’t want to be scared.”

  “You don’t have to be with me. I’ve got you, Alicia. Take a few nice, deep breaths for me and just breathe the anxiety away. That’s it, again. Again. Better. Good girl. That’s my good girl.”

  His praise soothed the jaggedness inside her. She stiffened as his fingers dipped into her briefly, relaxed as they returned to leisurely stroking her. It became a rhythm, stroking circle, dip. Stroking circle, dip.

  Okay, this she could handle. Her trembling faded, her hand slipping out of his grasp. No faster, no slower. Just steady, gentle contact.

  Atticus didn’t stop talking to her, although once her body went limp and draped over his lap, the volume of his voice lowered. The more she relaxed, the softer his words became, until it was like floating on an incredibly calm, quiet sea.

  Then he changed the game. After the dip of his fingers, he began brushing them over the bundle of nerves that reacted so positively to him. Every time, her back arched for an instant, absorbing the hit of pleasure that followed.

  She whimpered, not in fear, but longing. He was stirring something crazy inside her, and it was desperate to get out.

  “Ready for more, princess?”

  “Please don’t tease me.” Was that her voice, so breathy and slurred?

  The stroking stopped. The rhythm she’d latched onto ended, leaving her achy and needy. Without warning, his finger slipped inside her to the second knuckle, startling a warbled cry from her lips.

  “Shush, Lisha. It’s okay. Just one, that’s all.” It thrust into her, in and out, with no resistance. Her own bodily fluids aided her, allowing him in without a trace of the burn. “Fuck, you’re wet. I love that you’re so wet for me, Alicia. What color are you, baby?”

  “Green,” she sighed, her breath catching when his thumb pressed down the sensitive nub begging for his attention. It liked the faint roughness of his skin, the perfect pressure he applied. “More?”

  “You can have more, pretty girl. There is always more.”

  The string of the tampon tugged as the tip of another thick finger eased inside her carefully. This time, there was a stretching sensation, the slightest burn. She froze, and Atticus picked up on it straight away.

  “Relax, Lisha. That’s as far as we’ll go today.” Both fingers thrust gently, strangling the breath from her lungs. “Feel the pleasure, baby. Don’t worry about anything else but that. Feel my thumb on your clit, my fingers inside you. Focus on them.”

  Tiny zings of something spectacular rippled through her. Gripping his leg, she used it as leverage to rock into his touch. As much as it scared her, she craved more. It was addictive, chasing a sensation she didn’t understand. Neither her father nor Elliot had roused this feeling inside her, and she was glad.

  This was between her and her Daddy.

  She sobbed once, overwhelmed by the rising surge of the zings forming into a bigger entity. It gathered low in her belly, her pussy tightening around the thick digits pumping into her, around the stupid tampon she hated. Her inner muscles squeezed and released, fueling the impending implosion in her center.

  “Daddy,” she pleaded senselessly, trembling viciously. “Daddy, please.”

  “Take it, princess. Take the pleasure, it’s all yours. Come all over my fingers for me.”

  She keened quietly, rocking and squeezing and suffering as the implosion refused to come. Teetering on the edge of wanting it so badly, yet not wanting to fall headlong into the unknown, she was stuck.

  The quickest flick of pain hit her clitoris, arching her back in response. Pleasure began to thud in her ears, in her blood. She cried out, completely forgetting they were in his place of work, and not giving a damn. Another nip from her Daddy’s thumbnail detonated the implosion…only it didn’t burst inward.

  The giant zing exploded. Blew apart inside her and wiped everything from her mind. Her body went rigid for an instant, then her limbs flailed in search for more. Harsh sounds of pleasure ripped from her throat, all forming the word, “Daddy!”

  Her veins throbbed. Her blood sang. She was blind, but she could see.

  “Oh yes, princess. That’s my girl. That’s my good fucking girl. Squeeze my fingers, precious. Show me what this pussy is going to feel like around my cock.” Atticus’ praise was the cherry on top of the world’s best sundae. “Take the pleasure, Alicia. You earned it, babygirl. That’s it, ride it out. Easy now.”

  There was a hand on her back, stroking her as the intensity ebbed. Tingling all over, her breath wheezing as though she’d taken part in the Paralympics, Alicia tried to lift her head. Nope, that wasn’t going to work. Maybe her arms…

  Double nope.

  Oh man, she was wrecked. Broken in a really good, peaceful way. Her pussy pulsed in time with her heartbeat, which was such a weird sensation. It was like it was sending out a distress call to her Daddy, informing him assistance was most definitely required.

  Alicia giggled quietly to herself. There was one thing she’d learned from this, and that was that the beast poking her in the belly would not go where nature intended it.

  “How are you feeling, Lisha?”

  “Did you hear angels singing?”

  Atticus’ laugh rained over her, rich and affectionate. “Princess, the only thing I heard was you screaming Daddy, over and over again. It was beautiful.” He eased her upright, grinning at her as she hissed when her butt settled on his thigh, his arm curving around her back in support when she swayed. “Well, orgasm certainly brings a flush to your cheeks.”

  Alicia leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed contentedly. She couldn’t care less if she was glowing bright enough to light up a skyline. “If that was an orgasm, I think I could live off them. No food, no water, just that.”

  “That wouldn’t be advisable,” he told her, kissing her forehead. “Although we could come to an arrangement where you have at least one a day. More if you’re a very good girl.”

  “For that, I’ll be one of those girls who wear the little skirts and go to church,” she mumbled, snuggling in for the long haul. The ache in her butt was pleasant, a sweet reminder of her spanking and what came after.

  The Orgasm.

  “Do I need to know how you found out about Catholic schoolgirls?”

  “Abraham liked them young, in the tiny skirts and see-through blo
uses exposing their breasts. He used to trade meth for a hooker every Tuesday night from his pimp buddies. He tipped the girls with the drug of their choice if they wore the skirt,” Alicia said sleepily. She was warm, comfortable, and tired.

  “Ah, that explains a lot. Your father was an asshole, princess.”

  “Biggest.”

  “Yes, the biggest asshole.”

  “M’kay, Daddy. He’s dead now. All gone. Bye-bye.”

  “Time for a nap, princess.”

  *

  The words hadn’t left his lips for more than a heartbeat before the slight weight of her grew noticeably heavier. Out like a light, and twice as cute. Now he just had to figure out what to do with her for the next couple of hours.

  More than anything, Atticus yearned to take her back upstairs, into his bed, and spend the rest of his Sunday watching her sleep. Well, perhaps not more than anything. There was certainly a strong desire to dive further into their newfound intimacy, that was for sure.

  They’d hurt her. He knew her fucking father and that bastard Elliot had done some damage to her. Trauma of any kind was a complex road to walk, but Alicia had been left to wander alone for so long, her ordeal had taken on a life of its own.

  Sex was—whether she admitted it or not, stubborn little monkey—a complicated issue for her. Touching her pussy was a trigger, one he’d anticipated from everything she’d told him about her limited sexual history. He imagined full intercourse would probably result in him receiving some war wounds, but he was prepared to see her through whatever happened.

  Atticus cuddled her, feeling honored to be allowed to hold her when she was vulnerable. He doubted she’d fallen asleep so quickly after her father had finished violating her. She’d enjoyed her spanking, he was aware of that. Yet another thing for her to deny, even though he’d seen, fondled, and smelled the evidence.

  “We have some desensitization to do, princess. Won’t that be fun.”

  Alicia was fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady. Her stamina was still recuperating, and Atticus understood how a little exercise could render a body useless after prolonged illness or injury. Soon, she’d be able to orgasm without falling asleep straight after.

  He found it truly fascinating that when her mind was otherwise occupied, her body—more specifically, her legs—took the opportunity to test the waters. She’d given a little kick or two while he’d been teasing her pussy, just a quick jerk in response to his touch.

  Waiting for Julia to call was straining his patience. What was the next step in this, the path they would end up following? He preferred having his course of action planned out, and with this…there were too many variables involved.

  Well aware that he was spending his time with his half-naked woman on his lap when he should be coordinating his teams and making preparations for the following morning, Atticus groaned and rose from the chair, laying Alicia down on the conference table gently. It only took him a minute to untangle her pants and redress her in a way that didn’t suggest office quickie.

  There was enough speculation about her whispering through the hallways when his employees thought he wasn’t listening. They really should know by now that he had his ear to the ground, the walls, and missed nothing.

  Unlocking the door, he opened it wide, then snagged Mr. Bear as he returned to the table. Propping the bear on Alicia’s midsection, he scooped her up with an arm under her shoulders, another in the crook of her legs, and lifted her, trapping the furry beast exactly where it was.

  Taking her upstairs into his bed and leaving her alone wasn’t an option today. He trusted his security system implicitly, but no manmade technology was ever completely foolproof. Leaving someone on duty to watch over her wasn’t an option either—he was already pulling Anarchy away from her duties the next day to do just that.

  “I think you’ll like my office, princess. There’s a very comfy couch in there that is perfect for napping, and I can keep my eye on you.” He was expecting some fallout from Alicia’s emotions reacting to their intimacy. “Now, who do I know that has a secret stash of napping gear in their office, huh? Yeah, I think we should pay a visit to Tiana.”

  Atticus trekked down the corridor with his sleeping armful, then swung into one of the private offices. His team had a choice of working environment—the cubicles at the far end of the hall, where they could socialize and feel the team bond as they did their jobs; the private offices if they preferred to be alone; the semi-private offices that could hold up to three people; or the conference room if they wanted space and it wasn’t in use.

  Tiana was a small, curvy black woman with sass in spades and an attitude that kept him on his toes. Engaging with her was one of the highlights of his day—she was smart, she was cunning, and she had an impeccable work ethic. She could burrow into a pile of data for hours until her eyes crossed, then bundle herself into her chair with supplies, take a power nap, and be back to hunting intel two hours later.

  “That sure as hell better be you, boss man, because anyone else is gonna get their ass kicked straight back out. Ain’t got time to be pampering frazzled behinds today.” The office chair spun around quickly, and huge chocolate eyes lasered onto his face from behind stylish glasses. Tiana blinked like an owl disturbed by a flash of light. “Huh, what do you know, it is you.”

  “Expecting me, T?”

  “No, siree, but it’s a cold day in hell when I don’t enjoy you lurking in my office like a lumberjack fantasy come to life.” She grinned at him, then let her gaze drop to Alicia. “That sure ain’t no axe you’ve brought me, Atticus. Bringing your employees presents for good behavior now?”

  Sass in spades, he thought again. Tiana was a ray of sunshine in an office environment that occasionally became steeped in tension and fraught energy. He allowed her casual flirting because he understood it was just her personality. She had a boyfriend—whose face was in a simple wooden frame on her desk—and they were a devoted couple. Atticus was waiting for the day when she announced her wedding and/or pregnancy.

  He’d pay out of the nose to keep her on retainer.

  “This one’s all mine, T.”

  “Been a good boy, have you?” Tiana laughed, displaying her infectious humor, then sobered when he lifted an eyebrow to warn her she was skating close to his professional line. “Sorry, boss. Hyped up on all the data coming in. What would you like me to find for you?”

  “Need a blanket and a couple of pillows for Alicia here.”

  “Hmm.” Tiana pushed out of her chair, her gaze sliding past him to the open door and the empty corridor beyond. Apparently satisfied that no one was spying on her, she sashayed over to the filing cabinets against the far wall and unlocked the lowest, biggest drawer. “This be that sweet little thing you were talking about during the meeting?”

  “The very same.”

  “Well, she’s cute, I’ll give you that, boss. And cuteness deserves…” She pulled the drawer open and rummaged through it before yanking out a pale blue blanket. “Frozen.” She shook it out for his approval, showing him a strange snowman and a moose. “This is so soft, it’s like sleeping in a cloud.”

  Atticus blinked at it. He just hoped to God that Alicia didn’t have an aversion to grinning snowmen or grumpy moose. “That’s great, thanks. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

  “Everyone loves Frozen,” she said, as though it should be law. Kicking the drawer shut, she opened the next one and pulled out two fat pillows. She gave him the side-eye. “Am I in trouble for using company furniture for storing personal items?”

  He almost smiled. Almost. They both knew it was a rhetorical question. “Have you found anything of use to the operation?”

  “Have I?” Tiana scoffed and flicked her nails at him. Short, but painted in a kaleidoscope of greens and blues. “There’s already half a dozen emails with my name on them in your inbox, Atticus. You know I won’t let you down.”

  “You never do, T.”

  She came over to him, draping the bla
nket over his shoulder as best she could. The pillows she laid carefully on Alicia, covering Mr. Bear and using the cradle of her body to contain them. “Oh, I know, but it’s nice to hear you say it, boss.” Her computer beeped, and her attention swung back to the machine like he didn’t exist. “Oh, little bitch ass motherfucker, don’t you think you can hide from me. Get your ass back here.”

  “Thanks, T.” He could have been talking to a wall for all she cared. In one smooth move, she dropped into her chair, gave a quick wiggle to situate her curves back into position, then whipped around to stare at the screen.

  Her fingers attacked the keyboard ferociously.

  Loaded with woman and bedding, Atticus made it to his office without being hailed by anyone, which was a feat in itself. Evidently, everyone had their noses to the grindstone, intent on doing their best to divert a disaster.

  He permitted Daddy Atticus to stay in charge just a little while longer as he settled Alicia onto the couch on her side, arranging the pillows under her head. They smelled like cherries and cinnamon, Tiana’s favored scents. One edge of the blanket was tucked behind Alicia’s back, then he arranged it over her, so it kept her legs and waist warm. After a moment, he reconsidered and pulled it over her shoulder too.

  This was what he fucking loved about being a Daddy. Taking Alicia under his protection, showing her love and devotion, tending not only to her physical needs but her little ones too. Simple things like tucking the blanket in, making sure her bare arms were covered, ensuring the pillows were plumped and comfy.

  Stroking her head, telling her he was right there, even though she was sleeping deep enough she likely couldn’t hear a word he said. But for him, saying it was an extension of that bond between them. It satisfied his Daddy cravings, that powerful nurturing element he had no control over.