Page 47 of Use Me, Daddy

I tightened my grip, letting my fingers trail through her hair, still damp with sweat. She smelled like desire, raw and intoxicating, and I had to close my eyes for a moment just to savor it. My cock still throbbed with the memory of being inside her, that tight, unforgiving heat that had nearly driven me insane. Even now, the thought of it, the feel of her clenching around me, made my pulse quicken, my need for her growing again.

But for now, I was content just to hold her. There was a strange kind of peace in it, a quiet satisfaction that I hadn’t felt in… well, maybe ever.

I shifted slightly, brushing my lips against her forehead, and she sighed, the sound soft and contented.

“Perfect,” I murmured against her hair, letting the word slip out before I could stop it. She was utter perfection, and that was the problem. Because now that I’d had her, now that I’d tasted what it was like to break her down and put her back together… I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop.

She was mine now, whether she realized it or not. And I was going to show her that there was no going back, that once she gave herself to me, I wasn’t ever letting her go.

Amy shifted in my lap, her soft, warm weight pressing against me, and I couldn’t stop the way my body responded to the friction. I let out a quiet groan, my hands gripping her waist to steady her. She was still trembling, still catching her breath, her cheeks flushed and her hair wild around her face. The sight of her, disheveled and thoroughlyfucked, made my chest tighten with something far more intense than just desire.

But as much as I wanted to take her again, right here, right now, I knew she needed time to recover. I slid my hands downher sides, feeling the way her body quivered under my touch, before gently lifting her off my lap. She stood on shaky legs, and I couldn’t help but admire the way she tried to pull herself together, smoothing down her dress with trembling hands.

Without a word, I reached out, taking hold of the hem of her dress and adjusting it back into place. My fingers brushed the sensitive skin of her thighs as I did, and she sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. I leaned in close, so close that my lips brushed her ear, and whispered, “You won’t be needing these for now.”

Before she could react, I grabbed the sodden fabric of her panties in my fist. I slipped them into my pocket, locking eyes with her as I did.

She opened her mouth, perhaps to protest, but I just gave her a slow, satisfied smile.

“A reminder,” I said softly, my voice a low murmur that sent another shiver through her. “That you belong to Daddy now.”

Her cheeks flamed, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she let out a shaky breath, her gaze dropping to the floor as if trying to gather herself. I watched her, my chest tightening with something that felt dangerously close to pride. I had broken her down, made her surrender, but there was still that fire in her that made me crave her even more.

With a gentle but firm touch, I took her arm and guided her out of my office. The gallery was empty now, the soft glow of the evening lights casting shadows over the artwork that lined the walls. The world outside had long since moved on, but here, in this space that was ours alone, time seemed to have stopped.

We walked in silence, arm in arm, her smaller frame tucked close to mine. I could feel the tension still thrumming through her, but she leaned into me, letting me guide her. I kept my pace slow, savoring the feeling of having her so close, of knowing that she was mine, even if she hadn’t fully accepted it yet.

When we reached the coat closet, I turned to her, carefully helping her into her jacket, my hands lingering on her shoulders. She looked up at me, her eyes still a little dazed, as if she was struggling to process everything that had happened. I smoothed down the collar of her coat, letting my fingers brush against her neck, relishing the way she shivered under my touch.

“There,” I said softly, my voice filled with a tenderness that even surprised me. “Now, let’s get you home.”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, taking a small step back. “You don’t need to walk me home,” she protested, her voice wavering slightly. “I can… I can manage on my own.”

I tightened my grip on her arm, my eyes locking onto hers. “That’s not up to you,” I said quietly, my voice firm but not unkind. “You belong to Daddy now, and I’m not letting you walk these streets alone. Not tonight. Not ever.”

She opened her mouth as if to argue, but the look in my eyes must have silenced her, because she just nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor again. I could see the war inside her, the push and pull between wanting to hold on to her independence and the part of her that was slowly, inexorably surrendering to me.

“Good girl,” I murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Now, let’s go.”

Without another word, I led her out into the cold night air, her arm still tucked in mine. We walked in silence, the city lights casting a soft golden glow on the wet pavement. She stayed close, her body leaning into mine, and I couldn’t help but smile.

She was trying so hard to pretend that she wasn’t affected by me, but I could feel it—the way her pulse quickened every time I tightened my grip, the way her breath hitched when I leaned in close.

I loved every second of it.

The walk to her apartment was a quiet one, the cool night air wrapping around us like a comforting shroud. Amy stayed close, her arm linked with mine, but I could sense the internal battle waging within her.

Every few steps, she’d glance up at me, her cheeks flushed, then quickly look away as if catching herself. She was clearly embarrassed, maybe even confused by the sudden shift—from the intensity of what I’d done to her in the gallery to the quiet, almost tender moment we were sharing now.

When we reached her building, she hesitated at the entrance, biting her lip as if considering whether to invite me up. But I wasn’t going to leave her now, not when I was so close. I pressed a hand to the small of her back, guiding her gently inside, up the stairs, and to her door.

I didn’t need to be led. I already knew where she lived.

She fumbled with her keys, and I couldn’t help but smile at how endearingly flustered she looked. Finally, she managed to unlock the door, pushing it open to reveal her apartment.

The space was cozy, warm—a reflection of her. There was something inherently comforting about it, the kind of place that made you want to sink into the couch with a good book and a cup of hot steaming tea.

“It’s… not much,” she said softly, her voice uncertain as she glanced up at me. I could see the hint of pride beneath her blush, though, the way her eyes darted around the room like she was trying to see it through my eyes.

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