Page 26 of Daddy's Princess

“If you say so,” I say dismissively taking another bite of my food.

She makes an adorable little frustrated sound that makes my palm tingle with the desire to spank the attitude out of her. I know it’s contrary to both want her to be respectful and well-behaved while at the same time wanting her to show me that sassy-brat she claims isn’t normal for her. I want her to be a good girl, but I also want an excuse to take her over my knee and mark her pretty pale skin with my palm print.

Such is the juxtaposition of being a daddy dom. We want our little girls sweet and obedient, but we also want to take them in hand and punish them for being naughty. I should be worried that I can imagine Sugar as my babygirl. It’s been a long time since I’ve taken a submissive outside the casual atmosphere of the club. My focus has been on Titan-Rose. I don’t have time for personal relationships. Even before taking over Titan-Rose, a quick fuck is all that I was interested in, and Bidden and Bound is the perfect place to scratch the itch.

Babygirls take a lot of work. I’ve had two long-term arrangements in the past, both of which fizzled out. Jan was new to the scene. It wasn’t a huge shock when she decided that the submissive lifestyle wasn’t for her. She enjoyed a little slap and tickle, but having to answer to someone other than herself wasn’t for her. We parted amicably.

Rebecca was different. She’d been in the lifestyle for years before we met. We’d even played a few times at the club before deciding to explore a possible relationship. Most doms would call her the perfect submissive. Polite, meek, never stepped out of line. Hell, she never even toed the line. She wastoosubmissive to me. In the four months we were exclusive, she never once spoke out of turn. She never expressed an opinion of her own.

It was exhausting.

Three months after we broke up, I got an invitation in the mail to attend her wedding. Shortly after we broke up, she met Logan at the club. He’s a master through-and-through. He’s exacting and gives her no measure. It’s interesting watching them interact because she seems to have managed to find her voice when it comes to him. She’s blossomed under his dominance. Who knew that someone with all the makings of the perfect babygirl could become such a stubborn slave? Logan and Rebecca make a perfect couple. I’m truly happy for them.

Looking at Sugar across the table from me, I can admit that I’m a little envious of Logan. While Rebecca and I were doomed from the start, I still want what he has. A beautiful woman completely devoted and in love with me. For the first time in years, I admit, if only to myself, that I want a true daddy/babygirl relationship. I don’t just want a random night at the club. Subconsciously, I must’ve already figured that out because, until the other day, I hadn’t made the time to go to B&B in forever. It took meeting Sugar for the thought to take root. It’s been two days, forty-eight hours, and I already know that Sugar is meant to be mine. I just have to convince her of the same.

“Well, you don’t have to be a jerk about it!” she huffs.

I don’t even fight the chuckle that comes as a response to her indignant upset. She’s so fucking adorable. I just want to tweak her nose and pull her into my lap. I can imagine her soft curves against my body. Her perfect ass trapping my cock between our bodies. She’d feel the hard ridge and shift, causing delicious friction. I’d admonish her for teasing her daddy but squeeze her hip in encouragement to keep going.

I imagine winding my fingers in her chestnut hair and pulling her head back to expose the delicate line of her neck. I’d lick and suckle up and down her pale flesh until her skin turns pink from the gentle coarseness of my beard. I can practically taste her on my tongue. I discreetly adjust my painfully hard erection under the table.

“Let me get this straight, I’m a jerk for wanting to make sure you’re well-fed and taken care of?”

“Well, no, that’s kind of sweet, actually,” she says, some of her indignation falling away before my eyes. “But that doesn’t change the fact that it was jerky of you to question my ability to take care of myself.”

“Hmm. I see.” I put my fork down and give Sugar my undivided attention. “And what about eating junk food proves that you’re capable of caring for yourself properly?”

“The fact that I’m a grown-up and I can eat whatever I please?” she says it in such a way that it sounds more like a question than a statement of fact.

“So, being a grown-up means you get a free pass to make poor choices?”

Her brow furrows at that. She probably expected me to agree with her; that yes, as an adult, she can do whatever she pleases. What she doesn’t realize is that I’m not holding her to the standards of the rest of the world. I’m holding her to my expectations, and her health and happiness just became the most important things to me.

“Yes, being an adult means I can make poor choices. As long as it’s not breaking the law,” she adds.

“What if it’s breaking daddy’s rules?”

Sugar sucks in a breath and shifts in her seat showing her obvious discomfort at my question. “I don’t have one. Therefore, there are no rules to break.”

She sounds so self-assured, and yet I can hear the longing in her tone. She wants rules, even if it is just to break them. “What about Andre’s rules?”

Her eyes get wide as saucers. “That’s different. Those are to keep me safe at the club.”

“Wouldn’t rules from your daddy be for the same purpose? To keep you safe?”

“Of course. You’re missing the point, though. I don’t have a daddy.”

I watch as she nervously licks her lips. I can practically taste her sweetness. She’s remembering how freeing it felt to submit to me. She loved every second of calling me daddy. She’s got it in her head that she doesn’t want more than the one night, but her body is screaming something totally different.

Not wanting to scare her off, I decide to change the subject. I’ll let her think she’s proven her point for now. “What made you decide to apply to intern at Titan-Rose?”

The tension visibly drains out of her as she relaxes. “Being an illustrator for Titan-Rose is my dream, but I actually didn’t apply for the program.” She looks down at her plate, pushing the last bit of her vegetables around with her fork.

“If you didn’t apply, how did you get in?”

Her cheeks heat from embarrassment. “My freshman year, Eloise Titan-Rose came to a student gallery showing. She’s good friends with several professors at Corbet. Anyway, she liked my exhibit.”

“So, my mom got you in?” The words are a little harsher than intended. I saw Sugar’s talent myself. In fact, I’ve already had the sketch she did of us Monday framed, and it’s sitting in a place of pride on my desk. She would be an asset to any internship program. Still, I don’t like that she took advantage of my mother’s kindness to get a place inmyinternship program.

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