Page 49 of Daddy's Princess

We lay like that for a long moment. Until I’m on the edge of dozing off. “Do you want to go home or stay here?”

My heart skips a beat at the causal way he says ‘home,’ and I get the distinct impression he’s not calling it his apartment because he wants me to feel at home in his space. I like the idea way, way too much.

Oliver straightens his disheveled clothes while I get dress. It’s his turn to look like he just got fucked while I look like I just got done at the office. It makes me giggle.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just that you look all rumpled and sexy. Everyone is going to know that I had my wicked way with you.”

Oliver stalks the few feet across the room to me and pulls me into his arms, his hand fisting in my hair. His lips find mine in a searing kiss. His hand leaves my hair and goes to the top of my blouse. Then with a quick jerk, he rips my blouse open, sending the buttons pinging every which direction.

He takes a step back, looking me up and down. “There, now we’re a matching set.”

I look down at my gaping blouse then back up at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Oliver slips a hand inside my open shirt and cups my lace-covered breast. “I think it’s a vast improvement.”

I playfully slap his hand away. “Perv.”

He shrugs. “I can’t help it if I love your boobs.”

“And now the whole club is going to get to love them too,” I say flippantly. Oliver’s eyes grow dark and possessive. “Didn’t think that through, did ya?”

I can’t hold back my laughter as he pulls the sides of my shirt together, trying to cover me. I bat his hands away and take the two ends of my shirt and tie them together just below my boobs, making a sort of crop top. Oliver growls because, apparently, that’s even sexier than just leaving it open.

“You do know I’ve worn a heck of a lot less to the club before, right? I mean this,” I wave my hand up and down my body indicating my outfit, “is hardly scandalous. Heck, the dress I wore the night we met showed a lot more skin than this.”

He pulls me into a fierce hug. “You weren’t mine then. Now you’re mine, and that means no one else gets to look at you.”

I run my hand up and down his muscled chest, soaking in his words. I love the way it feels being claimed by Oliver. I love that he wants to keep me all to himself.Cody wanted me all to himself, too.I shake that thought away. This is different. Oliver isn’t Cody, I remind myself. Oliver isn’t jealous because he’s insecure. He’s jealous because he wants me all to himself and hates that he can’t keep other guys from admiring me.

When we finally immerge from the private room, I’m wearing Oliver’s suit jacket over my ripped shirt. I pull it close, luxuriating in being surrounded by Oliver’s scent. A lot of doms follow strict protocol in the club and want their submissive to follow behind them, among other things. Oliver obviously isn’t one of those doms because he has his arm wrapped around me, his hand possessively on my hip, keeping me close.

I love it.

Before we can make our escape, Andre stops us. “Hey, sweets, how are you?”

Oliver grumbles as Andre tugs me into a big bear hug. I giggle as I squirm out of Andre’s grip. I full-on laugh when Oliver pulls me back to his side and wraps both arms around me. I nudge him with my elbow. “You could always pee on my leg to make sure all the other males know I’m taken.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

That makes Andre chuckle. “No golden showers in the club.”

“Just so we are clear, that’s a hard limit.” I scrunch up my nose in disgust.

Oliver kisses the top of my head. “No worries, babygirl. I can think of much better ways to mark you.”

I think of the purplish hickeys he left on my body and shiver, remembering his hot mouth licking and sucking until my pussy throbbed with need. “Me too.”

Andre looks a little smug as he watches our exchange, then his expression turns serious. “Oliver, can I talk to you for a moment?” He turns to me, “Candace is in the dollhouse, you should go say hi.”

“Ohh-kay, I can take a hint. This is big bad dom talk. No subbies allowed.”

I squeal when Oliver’s hand cracks down on my already bruised bottom. “That sassy mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.”

I rub my abused butt cheek feeling super grateful for the layers of fabric between his hand and my skin. “Sorry, daddy. May I go to the dollhouse to see my friends?”

Andre’s smug look is back. He’s loving the fact that I’m involved with a dominant. One that he seems to approve of completely.

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