by Kitty Jones
“Aaron, you rejected me.”
He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me, and the problem is that I know he’s sorry, and I know it wasn’t the right time. I know I caught him off-guard with that kiss. I know all of those things, but...
Oh, I still feel humiliated about it.
“I was so embarrassed,” I whisper. “It took so much for me to put myself out there and you...Aaron, that was my first kiss ever.”
He reaches for me before I can protest, and he pulls me into his lap. Then he grabs me and pulls me close. He wraps his arms around me tightly and starts stroking my hair, and somehow, the gesture is everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s perfect.
It feels like a scene out of a really sweet book.
The only thing missing is the hair pulling and the spanking.
Then again, I’m not exactly being bratty right now. I’m sort of just being sad and pathetic. Is that how he views me? Does Aaron pity me?
“I’m sorry that it wasn’t as special as it should have been,” he murmurs. “I wasn’t exactly boyfriend material back then, no matter how much I wanted to be.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him, closing my eyes. I allow him to touch me, playing with my hair and rubbing my back. I can practically hear his heart beating. “It was a long time ago.”
“Mallory,” Aaron says quietly, but in a way that makes me look up at him. “Will you let me try again?”
“What?”
“You deserve the perfect first kiss, sweetheart. Let me try again.”
Is he for real right now?
Is he actually asking permission to kiss me?
And am I actually thinking about making out with Aaron Winters in the middle of the fucking afternoon?
Oh, fuck yes. I’m not about to turn down this chance. If he had asked me yesterday or the day before or hell, even last week, I would have laughed in his face and turned him down, but Taylor and Hank were right when they said it was time for me to start moving forward.
It’s time for me to start being brave.
“Okay,” I whisper, and Aaron gazes into my eyes. He strokes my hair softly before he cups my cheeks, and then he brings his lips to mine.
And oh, it’s fire.
It’s ice.
It’s everything.
He kisses me slowly at first, but I’m hungry for him. I’m hungry for this, for us, and I turn so I’m no longer sitting in his lap, but straddling him. I kiss him back hungrily, taking what I want, and he chuckles, pulling back. He kisses me softly on the nose.
“How was that?” He asks gently.
“It was better,” I manage to say breathlessly.
“Should we try again?” He asks.
“Okay.”
Aaron kisses me again. This time, this next kiss, is even more controlled, and I close my eyes and let him lead me. He holds my hips as he runs his tongue over my lips and then slides into my mouth.
I find myself grinding down against him even though I shouldn’t, even though it’s wrong. I want to play with him. I want to slide my hand down his pants and stroke his cock, but I won’t. It’s just not time for that. I mean, I shouldn’t even be making out with him right now, but oh, this is so, so wonderful.
It’s so fucking perfect.
He kisses me until I’m groaning, grinding against him, and then he pulls me back. He looks at me, questions lingering in his eyes, and he smiles.
“You’re gorgeous, pretty girl,” he says.
“Thank you.”
“And I’m sorry for all of the times I let you down.”
“It’s okay.”
“It won’t happen again.”
He pulls me close and holds me for a long time. I don’t know what that promise means. Is he saying he wants to date me? Is he telling me he wants to be my protector? What exactly is he asking me?
But I don’t have a chance to ask because I close my eyes and curl up in his arms, and much too soon, I find myself slowly losing myself in his comfort and in his arms, and I drift off to sleep.
Chapter Eight
Aaron
I didn’t expect any of this to happen today, but fuck, I’m glad that it did. I hold Mallory as she sleeps, curled up in my lap like Jiji always does. What did I do to deserve this magical moment today?
Nothing.
I don’t deserve it.
I don’t deserve any of it.
More than that, I hate knowing that she’s felt alone for so very long, and part of that is my fault. What happened between us long ago was unfortunate. It was horrible, actually. I made a mistake, and that mistake had consequences. Mallory is the one who’s had to carry that burden, but I hope I can help her work through that.
I’m not so young that I don’t realize there’s more at play, though. There’s something she’s not telling me, something she’s holding back. That’s okay. Mallory is allowed to have her secrets, but I hope that I’ll be able to show her that I’m trustworthy enough for her to open up with me.
I hold her for a long time, allowing her to sleep. She’s got to be so damn tired. She’s practically been carrying the weight of the world, after all. She lost our friendship and then she lost her brother. What else has little Mallory lost?
And is she here because she’s willing to give us – me – a chance?
I don’t exactly know.
I wiggle out from under her and lay her down on the couch. Then I grab a little blanket and drape it over her. I’ve got some work I can tackle this afternoon, and I’m quite content to let her rest. I know she’s a schoolteacher, and I know that job is much harder than people possibly know. She’s got to wrangle up nearly thirty kids and not only keep them safe and alive, but she’s also got to make sure that they’re actually learning things.
It’s quite a task, and it’s a huge responsibility.
I head upstairs to my office and get to work. I leave the door open so I can listen for Mallory and so that she can find me if she needs to. Maybe she’ll want to come talk with me. Maybe she won’t. I’m not sure.
The only thing I know right now is that my cock is aching, begging for some release after that impromptu makeout session downstairs.
What was that all about?
I should have had more self-control, but damn, if she didn’t completely come apart when I started topping her.
We both knew what I was doing when I bossed her around just a little. She made a conscious choice to obey me, to listen to me. She didn’t have to, and we’re both quite aware of that. Perhaps that’s the biggest reason that having her here feels so right. She didn’t have to trust me, but she chose to.
I’m not about to betray that trust.
I am torn on so many levels because Mallory deserves much more than me. She deserves caring and kindness and protection.
We already have a history together, and our history isn’t exactly pristine.
It’s messy and complicated and a little bit wild. She’s been hurt before, and I’m very aware of that.
I just don’t want her to feel hurt again.
With a sigh, I turn back to my work and start translating. I’m working on a document for a company that wants to start doing business with overseas markets. In order to do so, their business documents need to be translated into Chinese. The work is tedious and difficult, but it gets my mind off of Mallory for a little while, and that’s what I care about right now.
I care about getting her off my mind and out of my head.
I need a break from the way I’m feeling about her. Only, after just a few lines of work, I realize that I’m not going to stop thinking about her. More importantly, I realize that I don’t want to stop thinking about her.
I hate that she’s been hurt so deeply and that she’s been wounded so badly. I’m not going to lie to her or to myself about the way I feel. I’ve missed her. I’ve missed her so very much. It’s probably not very cool to admit that out loud, but the truth is that my life has never really been the same without her in it.
/>
When Matthew passed away...when he was stolen away from us...I thought I’d never feel whole again. He was my very best friend. We did everything together. We lived together, we worked together, we took classes together. Our entire lives were completely entwined and then one day, he was just gone.
I didn’t know what to do, and I wanted to reach out to Mallory. In my mind, she was the only person who could possibly understand what I was going through, but there was a big problem.
She was going through something, too, and she couldn’t stand to be near me.
I hear a soft meow, and I realize that Jiji has come into the room. I turn and pick him up, pulling him onto my lap. Jiji meows again and stretches, lying down on my lap.
“Good kitty,” I murmur, petting him. Jiji is my favorite creature. He’s such a good cat. I’ve always liked pets and have always wanted to have one, but I lived in the dorms, and then in an apartment that didn’t allow animals. The first thing I did after I signed the papers on my home was to go down to the animal shelter and adopt my little kitty. I had planned on adopting an older pet that needed a home: perhaps one whose owner had passed away. The shelter had recently had a big push to get older animals adopted, though, and there were no cats left at all. Then, while I was there, someone brought in a litter of kittens they couldn’t keep or take care of, and that’s how I ended up with Jiji. I’d had to wait for him to have his vaccinations and check-up before I was allowed to bring him home, but I knew the moment I saw him that he was the cat for me.
That’s kind of how I’ve always felt about Mallory.
I’m not a virgin, and I haven’t always been a good boy. I haven’t saved myself for her and I haven’t sat around crying myself to sleep because we aren’t together, but I’ve always had a deep longing for her. I’ve always had this deep sense that something was missing from my life without her in it, and now that we’re close, I wonder if I’m going to be able to reach that next level.
The floor creaks in the hallway, and I realize that she’s awake. Jiji jumps down and runs to the hallway to peek at her. Sure enough, a second later I hear her whispering to him, and I smile to myself.
I had no idea that Mallory liked animals, but it makes me happy as a clam to know that she does.
“Hey,” she says, knocking gently on the door. My back is to the door because my office chair faces the wall with the big window on it. Usually, I prefer to have my back to a wall, rather than the door, but I couldn’t resist setting up my office so that I could look out over the quiet little town.
“Hello, beautiful,” I say, turning around to smile at her. She looks sated and happy. Her hair is a little messy, and her dress is wrinkled now, but she looks content. Instantly, I wonder what she’d look like after a good spanking or a good fucking.
Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to find out.
“Sorry I fell asleep,” she says. I stand up and move to her. Then I reach for her and pull her into my arms.
“Never be sorry for taking care of yourself,” I tell her. “Self-care is important.”
“Even if it’s in the middle of a date?” She asks, smiling up at me.
“Is that what this is?” I ask.
“A date? I think it’s safe to say it’s a date,” she says. “Do you think it’s a date?”
“Absolutely,” I agree. “But I didn’t want to frighten you with labels.”
“I’m not scared of labels.”
“Is that so?”
“That’s so.”
“Then tell me,” I say. “Why haven’t you had a serious boyfriend or girlfriend?” Perhaps it’s not the right time to push her. Maybe I shouldn’t be asking these personal questions, but that’s who I am. I’m the kind of guy who likes to push and I’m hoping that Mallory is the kind of woman who is going to be ready and happy to share with me.
She looks at me for a moment and then grins, shaking her head.
“Wow, you didn’t wait long at all.”
“For what?”
“To start Domming me,” she chuckles.
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“Feels like it,” she says. “So I’ll answer your question with a question: if we get together, am I going to have to call you Daddy?”
“That depends on you,” I tell her.
“What about me?”
“Do you want to call me Daddy, princess?”
I look down at her and cup her cheek, stroking it softly with my hand. She quivers almost instantly, and I’d bet anything that her panties are totally soaked. Good. That’s how I want her: wet and horny and needy. I’ve been waiting years for little Mallory. I want her now. I want all of her.
She licks her lips and opens her mouth. She wants to say yes. I can tell. She’s scared though. Something is holding her back, and I’m not quite sure what it is. Is it because of our past? Is it because of a relationship she’s had?
Or is there another reason she isn’t quite ready to offer her submission and her adoration?
“Yes,” she whispers. “I want to call you Daddy.”
Shit.
I’m hard.
I didn’t mean to be, but I am. Hearing those words on her lips just make me feel so excited and so fucking turned on.
“Are you a hardcore Daddy Dom?” She asks, whispering.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if I date you, are you going to want to be in play-mode 24/7? Because I can’t do that. I have...I have a job. I like scening, Aaron, but for me, kink is separate from my real life.”
“I can live with that,” I tell her. “I don’t expect anything full-time.”
It’s the truth. I know that many couples love the idea of being in play-mode all the time. They like the idea of one party getting home and finding the other waiting on their knees. Some people love the Domination and submission that comes from picking out clothes for their partner or making all of the decisions in everything in their lives.
That’s not me.
For me, the beauty of submission comes from a woman who doesn’t need me at all, but who chooses me.
I love knowing that she could have any man in the world, but that she’s chosen to grace me, and me alone, with her submission and with her heart.
That’s what I want from Mallory.
I want that knowledge that she’s giving this to me willingly, as a gift, and she’s trusting that I’m not going to fuck it all up.
“Have you done that in the past?” She asks.
“Had a full-time partner?”
“No.” I have no interest in hiding my past from Mallory. To me, the past makes up a big part of who I am now. If we’re going to date, even casually, then I don’t mind sharing my past experiences with her.
Some couples like to hide the past and pretend it never happened, but again, that’s not my style. I’m much more happy being open and honest with my partners. I’m completely fine letting them know where I’m at, what I’m doing, and how I’m coping with the world around me. Part of that means letting them know about who I’ve been with before and how that’s affected me.
“I’ve been in relationships, but nothing long-term. I’ve never lived with a woman, and I’ve never had a child with a woman, and I’ve never collared someone.”
She reaches for her neck, almost automatically.
“Have you?” I ask her, stroking her skin at the place where she’s touching. Has she worn another man’s collar around her neck? I think it’s safe to guess that she hasn’t. Mallory doesn’t exactly act like she’s had all of the experience in the world, which is a bit strange to me since she’s been with other people before. She’s been playing at the club for awhile, according to our mutual friend, yet she doesn’t seem like she’s had a lot of experience in long-term relationships.
“No.”
“Why not?”
We’re back to the big question: why hasn’t she had a relationship?
Or at least, why hasn’t she had a long relationship?
“It’s complicated.”
“I’ve got all day.”
She peeks past me to my computer and then looks at me.
“It looks like you’ve got work to do.”
“Are you telling me what to do, little one?”
“No.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to be a little bit bossy.”
“Nope,” she shakes her head, and her hair bounces a little. I grab it, fisting it tightly, but not too hard, and I pull her head back.
“I want you, Mallory, but if we’re going to do this, then we’re going to play by my rules.”
She opens her mouth just a little. She gasps gently and then manages to nod.
“Okay,” she says.
“Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” she whispers, and I press my lips to her. I kiss her deeply, passionately, greedily. I kiss her until I feel her knees give out and I pull her close, holding her against my body for support. She can definitely feel my cock pressed against her belly, but I don’t care. I’m not embarrassed about the way I feel about her.
I’m only embarrassed about how long it took us to finally get together.
When I pull back and look at her, she looks tired and happy and a little bit confused, but it’s okay. I’m going to help her. I’m going to help her with everything she’s going through and I’m going to take care of her. Mallory doesn’t need to worry about a single thing anymore because I’m here, and I’m ready to be the Daddy Dom she deserves.
Chapter Nine
Mallory
“He did what?” Tabitha practically shrieks.
“Shh!” I hush her, looking around the tiny break room nervously. I don’t exactly want to advertise to the rest of the teachers that I have somehow managed to find myself not just a Dom, not just a Daddy Dom, but a Deliciously Delightful Daddy Dom who made me so wet that I masturbated three times when I got home on Saturday.
“I’m sorry,” Tabitha says. She looks around, but seems satisfied that no one is really paying attention to us. “But this is you we’re talking about, and no offense, but you’re kind of uptight.”
