He’d been the only visitor she’d had.
But Connie…Connie had been there for her that first year of freedom, battling for Alicia’s health more fiercely than she’d had the energy to do herself. So yeah, maybe there was a touch of Mommy-Dom there.
“How do I get past this, Connie?” Alicia dropped her head into her hands.
“Sexual trauma is complicated, Lisha. When something bad happens to your body, your brain reacts. It ties all these little strings to the event like trip wires, but not just to that specific act. Your brain is a clever entity, sweetie, and it tries to act in your best interests. So rather than tying those trigger strings to what caused you pain—for example, penetrative sex—it connects them to everything it associates with sex.” Connie’s voice was so gentle, it felt like an invisible hand brushing over Alicia’s skin. “The strings need to be disarmed. They’re going to tug and they’re going to hurt in the process.”
Pain wasn’t a stranger to her, she could make friends with it if that was what it took.
“Don’t rush into this if you’re not ready, Alicia. Atticus will wait. I told you to let him lead, to guide you forward, but you have to be prepared to bare yourself. That isn’t easy to do when everyone you’ve known has taken advantage of you in a negative manner.”
“This isn’t helpful.” Alicia lifted her head. “Can’t you just give me a checklist or something? Lie back, close my eyes, and think of unicorns? Would that work?”
Connie laughed. “Sweetheart, if you want to give that a shot, you go for it. There’s nothing wrong in believing in magic. The truth is, I can’t give you a list of points to work through. This is a journey you need to take step by step, leaning on Atticus when you need support.”
Trust Daddy. That seemed to be the revolving message coming at her from all angles. Just hold on tight and go for the ride of her life with Atticus taking the reins. It sounded simple, probably was—simpler than she was making it, anyway.
Maybe there was a way to make it so uncomplicated, even she couldn’t mess it up.
“I can’t express how important it is that you vocalize your anxiety, Alicia. Atticus will listen to whatever you tell him without judgement. It’s the only way you’re going to be able to start cutting those strings.”
“I thought I was doing everything right, but every time I think I’m ready…I guess I should go talk to him, if he’s not so angry with me he’ll ignore me for the rest of the day.”
“Not his style. He’ll be overly polite until his temper calms, then probably dole out a punishment that fits your misdemeanor. Ignoring someone is a psychological tactic, Alicia, one that erodes strong bonds—trust, especially. For someone with a deep-seated need to please, it can be damaging to their confidence, their self-esteem. Att wouldn’t do that to you.”
“But spanking is the bond-friendly method of punishment?” Alicia asked.
“Yes. Instead of being pushed away by anger, you’re brought closer together physically, to start. The impact of his hand on your ass connects you. When you feel his skin on yours, you know he cares enough to take the time to chastise you, rather than just walking away and letting the issue fester.” Connie didn’t sound perturbed by the question. “A sub finds closure in paying penance; being denied that causes harm. You can safeword if a spanking becomes unbearable, but you can’t with obstinacy and ignorance—you’re reliant on how long someone can hold a grudge. Trust me, take the spanking and thank him afterwards—he’s showing you he cares.”
She exhaled slowly, sitting up straight in her chair. “He said he loves me.”
“I don’t doubt that. It shows. In him and in you. I’m so happy for both of you.”
“Do you think it’s too soon?”
Connie made a soft, sympathetic noise in her throat. “Time is irrelevant. Enjoy what you have, Alicia. Just take every damn day and love the hell out of it. Now, unless you’ve got anything else you need to discuss, I think you should go face the music. It’ll be okay. And if you need me for anything, what are you going to do?”
“Not sneak around Daddy.”
“Good girl.”
“Thanks, Connie.”
“Anytime, sweetie. I’ll see you soon.”
When the line went dead, Alicia lifted her thumb to her mouth and chewed on the nail. The analogy about the strings was staying with her, and the more she imagined it that way, the more she thought she could feel the damn things pulling at her.
She didn’t want to be the puppet attached to all those strings clutched in her dead father’s hand. Both he and Elliot were dead, which was such a goddamn relief. Elliot would never be lurking in the shadows again, creeping up to her bed to torment her.
There was no freedom in being chained to her past monsters.
Well, chains—and strings—were made to be broken.
*
An hour passed.
He wasn’t too concerned, he figured the girls had a bit to talk about, so he busied himself with making omelet batter and then setting the counter up for lunch. Alicia’s feelings on eggs were iffy, so the omelet was partly ensuring she ate a healthy lunch, and partly a subtle reprimand.
Atticus knew he couldn’t be too mad at her for going behind his back to ask advice. Hell, mad wasn’t even the right word. In all honesty, he was pissed at himself for not considering she might need to speak to Connie, to seek out that female support he couldn’t offer.
The phone call from Braun, telling him his little girl was calling all and sundry trying to find Connie, had kicked him squarely in the pride.
For one, his princess hadn’t waited for him to help her get dressed—he understood her impatience and frustration at not being able to walk, and didn’t put it past her to do something stupid like attempt to push herself too hard, fall, and hit her head.
For two, it stung that she hadn’t discussed whatever problems she was struggling with, with him. As her Daddy Dom, Alicia should have been able to come to him with anything, and instead, she’d chosen Connie’s counsel.
Stung pride aside, however…Atticus was immensely pleased with her progress. Not only had Alicia expanded her friend circle, she’d also taken steps to contact them when she needed them, and in doing so, had opened up the door to communicating with her sister.
Although from the gist of what Braun had relayed to him, Lisha might have heard more than she bargained for.
It was a difficult line to straddle—should he be strict with her for the infractions, or more lenient because of the huge improvements she was making? In the end, he couldn’t hold his pride in the equation, because at this point in her recovery, it didn’t factor into it.
A startled cry from down the hall spun him around and set his feet into motion before his mind realized he’d reacted. Visions of his princess in a heap on the floor had him moving faster, bolting down the hallway to his office…only to find she wasn’t there.
Fuck. This must be what it was like to have a toddler who’d learned to walk.
Spinning around, he called out, “Lisha?”
“Here, Daddy.”
Bedroom. Atticus didn’t run this time, but his strides were hurried. Her voice was trembling, more with nerves than pain, and he wondered how anxious she was about a pending punishment. She certainly hadn’t come straight to the kitchen for lunch.
His feet stopped dead on the threshold into his bedroom as his hands slammed onto the doorframe and his fingers bit into the wood. The rapid surge of blood to his cock nearly forced the damn thing through his zipper, metal teeth and all.
“Should you be touching what’s mine, little girl?” he managed to growl through the sudden seizure of his lungs.
On the bed, propped up by a hastily constructed heap of pillows, Alicia stretched out naked on the sheets. Not a stitch of clothing covered her. Those pretty legs of hers were widely spread, revealing the treasure at the apex. Her fingers were shaking as they played hesitantly with her clit, her inexperience blatantly obvious, and absolute
ly fucking arousing.
“You didn’t say I couldn’t.”
Because I didn’t think you’d be brave enough to do it. Atticus jerked his chin at her, refusing to let go of the frame. If he did, he’d be across the room faster than she could blink, and that perfectly pink pussy just starting to glisten with her juices would be at his complete and utter mercy. “Well, now you’ve begun, you don’t get to leave that bed until you make yourself come all over your fingers, princess. That’s the price you pay for being naughty and playing with yourself.”
Wary blue eyes widened. “Y-You’re not going to…”
“Not until you make yourself come, Alicia. What made you do this?”
Her expression warned him she wasn’t comfortable with touching herself. When she realized he was serious about not taking over, her self-titillation slowed until it stopped. “I-I’m cutting strings.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he replied, dropping his right hand to his belt buckle and wrestling the thick leather strap loose. He popped open the button on his jeans, then lowered the zipper, releasing the torturous pressure crushing his cock. “Keeping those fingers moving, princess. I want to see them all shiny and wet. I’m going to lick them clean as soon as you get yourself off.”
Color rose high in her cheeks, but she obeyed. Like the good girl she was, she made her fingers work again, circling her clit.
Atticus shoved his jeans down low on his hips, letting his erection stand straight before he palmed it, running his hand up and down the length. A low groan escaped him as he wished it was her tiny hand doing the honors. “Good girl, Lisha. Push them inside yourself now, get them wet for me. Imagine they’re mine, that’s it. Good girl.”
Goddamn it, his balls were already tight enough to explode. The sight of her easing those little fingers into where he would kill someone to be was almost enough to have him spurting like a randy teenager all over the floor. He cinched his fingers around the base of his shaft, squeezing until he almost cut off the blood supply.
“In and out, princess. Feel how soft and wet you are, how warm.” When she whimpered, precum leaked from his crown, dripping down his shaft as it throbbed urgently. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. A little faster now, that’s it. Are you wet for me, Lisha? Is that pretty pussy waiting for me?”
“Yes,” she whined, her hips twisting imperceptibly.
“Yes what, princess?”
“Yes, Daddy. Please, help me.” Her eyes beseeched him with a mix of confusion and lust. “I need you to help me, please.”
“Rub your clit,” he ordered, releasing the doorframe and taking a step forward, his cock eager to lead the way. “Find where it makes you feel good. Don’t rush, Lisha. Take your time, use the pad of your finger.” He smiled when her body jerked. “That’s it, right there.” Another step closer to the bed, and his dick was complaining. “Hard, slow, fast, light. Play with yourself, discover what makes your body sit up and beg for more.”
He was so fucking tempted to do some begging himself. The nearer he got, the more he could smell her. Sweet, fragrant arousal with a hint of innocence and frustration. She would be an absolute delight to edge in future—he’d be high on her scent before she came.
“It doesn’t work the same,” she told him in a pitiful voice. “It doesn’t feel good like when you do it.”
Atticus released the tight grip on his shaft, hissing between his teeth as the blood erupted back into the damn thing with a vengeance. Sitting beside her was torture, but he was willing to pay the price. “Learning how to pleasure yourself is important, Lisha. You can do it as often as you like, as long as I’m watching.”
She quivered like a mare waiting for the stallion. “Can you do it? Please?”
“If I do it, there’ll be a different punishment,” he warned. “Willing to take that risk?”
“God, yes,” she whispered in relief. “Anything, just please…”
“Give me your hand. Not that one, princess,” he told her, tilting his head toward the one between her thighs. He couldn’t help the growl of approval when she lifted it toward him, her eyes averted from the creamy fluid on her digits. “I want those fingers in my mouth, princess. I can’t reach them if they’re all the way over there, can I?”
“Are you sure—”
“Shush. Let me taste.”
The moment he closed his lips around those digits, his eyes almost rolled back in his head. With one hand around her wrist to prevent her from pulling away, he sucked on them with the fervor of a man already addicted. Sweet wasn’t the word. As his tongue lashed around her fingers, he reached out with his free hand and cupped her breast, tormenting the budded nipple with the rough pad of his thumb.
Alicia arched into his touch, whining in her throat. “Please.”
God, he loved that word in that tone. It was need and desire and surrender all in one.
Spreading his hand wide, he dragged his nails lightly down her stomach, over her mound. The muscles tensed and twitched under the stimulation, then froze as he narrowed the caress down to two fingertips only. He scraped over the top of her clit, pleased it was already free of its protective hood, then traced the seam of her labia.
Thrusting his fingers inside her, he felt her internal muscles respond eagerly, and set his thumb to work on her clit. She was learning to submit here, to give him access to her pussy when he demanded it in this fashion. “Have you been a good girl today, princess?”
They both knew the answer to that.
She didn’t hesitate to answer, and answer truthfully. “No, Daddy.”
“What have you done wrong?”
“I didn’t trust you. I hurt your feelings by going around you to Connie. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The fingers he’d just released from his mouth reached out and touched his face. “I’m sorry.”
He’d never be able to stay mad at her if she apologized so sincerely every damn time, he thought. This was one little who would have her Daddy wrapped around her finger just by breathing. “Do you trust me now?”
Her breath shuddered out. “I know you won’t harm me. We can’t move on if I don’t have faith in you, and I want to be whole again with you. I trust you, Atticus. As my Daddy and…as you.”
Such a sweetheart, he thought. She really was a miracle, trying her best to make a place in a life that had shown her time and again that she didn’t belong. The truth was, she hadn’t belonged in that life, the one her parents had imprisoned her in. She hadn’t been given a chance to fit in at the rehab facility, but she hadn’t belonged there, either.
Her place was here, with him.
His miracle.
His little girl.
His entire fucking world.
“I love you, Alicia. I know it’s hard for you to trust anyone, and I won’t abuse the privilege. Lie back and close your eyes. Punishment first, then reward, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.” Her eyes searched his face for a moment, flickering with something he hoped was the trust she was offering him, then squeezed shut. Her body remained tense for a few more seconds before she relaxed into the bed. “I’m ready.”
No punishment was fun—well, not for little girls, anyway—but Atticus supposed this would be more of a…testing of limits. Removing his fingers from the delicious wetness between her thighs, he slipped his middle finger lower, finding the small, undiscovered rosette of her anus.
Circling the sensitive area with the slick pad of his finger, he pressed gently until he felt the resistant muscle relent. Every muscle in her body had gone rigid, her hands fisting the sheets. “Just relax, Lisha. Bear down if you can, it’ll make it easier.”
Not on him, because as soon as his digit breached that hole, Atticus suspected his cock might just make its displeasure known.
“It-it burns.”
“I know, princess. That’s part of the punishment, and the reward. Will you believe me when I tell you it won’t hurt for long?”
“Can I open my eyes? Please? I don’t like not being able to see you.”
He made a mental note to list blindfolds down as a possible trigger. His free hand reached out and settled over hers, encouraging her to release some of the tension. “I’m right here, princess. Keep them closed for me. Listen to my voice, let it ground you. It’s just me and you here. Think you can do that for me?”
Her brow furrowed adorably as she scrunched her face up. “I’ll try.”
“Because you’re my good girl. My very good,” he said, carefully easing his finger deeper into her rear, “very special girl. And you are taking your punishment like a champ, princess. Take it just a bit more, okay, then you can have your reward.”
Fuck, she was tight. The slickness of her juices wasn’t enough to continue without hurting her. Att leaned over and opened the top drawer of the bedside unit, retrieving a bottle of lube. Slowly, he pulled out of her, flicking open the bottle top and dribbling a few drops of liquid over his finger. Once the digit was thoroughly lubricated, he balanced a single drop on his fingertip.
“Deep breath in, Lisha,” he advised, rubbing the droplet over her anus. His lips twitched when she sucked in enough air to inflate a blimp. “Hold it, hold it…good girl, and release.”
As she exhaled nervously, his finger pushed unerringly into her back passage with ease, almost to the bridge of his knuckles. He groaned, cursing under his breath. Hot, silken flesh surrounded him, blinded him for an instant. Her moan was long, soft, and if he wasn’t mistaken…someone liked a little anal play with her punishment.
“Doing okay, princess?”
“I-I think I’m confused,” she blurted, her nails clawing at his arm. “I don’t think I’m supposed to like this.”
Just what a Dom loved to hear. Not from a reprimand standpoint, of course, because that limited his options in the future, but it was rewarding to overcome one of her fears, and prove that her trust in him was deserved.
“It’s not a matter of supposed to, Lisha. Your body likes what it likes, and if anal is on that list, well, I can’t say I’m not a happy Daddy. Open your eyes, princess, let me see those gorgeous blues.” When she obeyed, the shocked arousal shining in her gaze was a powerful drug to a man like him. “Give me your hand.”
Walk For Me: Club Avalon Book 4 Page 42
