Page 31 of Daddy's Rules

“I believe you,” she says, but there’s sadness in her voice. “Do you?” I don’t know why she’s sad if she believes me. “May I be honest?”

“Of course.” I continue to caress her back and comb my fingers through her hair while she speaks.

“It’s not that I believe they mean anything to you. It’s that I’m not sure I do.” She breathes in and out shakily, trying to control her emotions. “I’ve done everything right. I’ve been so good and still...”

God, I am such a dumbass. Of course that’s what she’s worried about. “Jordan.” I pull her tighter against my chest, so tight I hear the breath whoosh out of her. “Baby. You mean everything to me. And I’m so proud. You’re my only baby girl. No one else will ever get this daddy, honey. I’m yours as much as you’re mine.”

She nods, but her voice is wobbly when she speaks, as if she’s barely holding herself together. “I don’t know if I believe that,” she says, and now she is crying, real tears streaming down her cheeks, and it feels like she’s breaking my heart.

“I mean, you say that. But I’m working so hard to do things you’ll approve of. I mean the other day you said you haven’t had blueberry muffins in a while, so I found the perfect recipe.” My heart constricts in my chest and I hold her tighter. “But you don’t touch me at all. I mean, you’re touching me now, and we snuggle but I don’t mean that way. I want...” She tucks her face into my chest and whispers something garbled.

Taking her chin in my hand, I lift her face to mine. “Come again?” Her lips turn up the tiniest bit apologetically and she sighs with drooping shoulders.

“More. I want more.”

I’ve been telling myself I’m keeping my hands off her for all the right reasons. So I don’t seduce her into thinking I’m the right guy for her, not when there are so many other men her age she could date. Not when she’s still mourning the loss of her father. Not when it could ruin her reputation to be with an older man like me.

“We talked about this,” I tell her gently, but she shakes her head.

“Not really, no,” she says. “You think it’s best we remain platonic, but I don’t feel that way at all.”

“And now you’ve convinced yourself, because I’ve actually kept my hands to myself, that you don’t mean anything to me?”

“Well.” Her voice trails off. “Not exactly,” she says. “Well. Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” she says with sincerity that’s so unexpected I burst out laughing. “Oh, Owen. Sir,” she says. “Please don’t laugh. Not now.” She swipes at her tears.

I could talk to her until I’m out of breath and her eyelids droop with sleep. But she doesn’t need my words. I need to show her. Silently, I nudge her off my lap and onto her back on the bed.

“Owen, what are you—” “Shhh,” I tell her. Without another word, I gently guide my fingers to her wrist and hold her there, secure in my grasp, then nudge her knees apart with mine. When she opens her mouth to speak, I shake my head.

“I said no talking, young lady.” Her pupils dilate and her lips part. When I kiss her she tastes of cherry lip gloss and innocence. I release her mouth just long enough to whisper in her ear, “Daddy’s girl tastes like sugar, spice, and everything nice.”

My cock presses against her but I ignore the need to claim her, to mark her, to own every inch of her body. This isn’t about me. Making her know she means something to me is my goal. Showing her how badly I want her. But as I kiss her, my need for her grips me, pulling me under the lure of her spell. The scent of her hair, sunshine and coconuts, clean and beautiful. Her soft, unblemished body writhes beneath mine, so giving and unreserved. Her soft moans and sighs. Her beautiful, fetching curves and vivid gaze, unabashed and full of adoration, undo me.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” I whisper in her ear. “So damn beautiful. And I will make you mine, Jordan. I want you to know how much you mean to me. Do you understand me?” I weave my fingers through her hair and gently pull, earning a yelp followed by a moan.

“Yes, Sir. Yes,” she repeats. I kiss her until my cock is painfully hard and she’s wiggling, needy, and aroused beneath me. I let go of her hands and ease off of her.

“I’m going to shower,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with arousal. “You get ready. We’re going out today. You need something to wear tonight.” Sitting up in bed, she bites her lip. I can see the faintest outline of her hardened nipples beneath the thin fabric of her top and bra. When she grips the bedcovers in her fingers and her knuckles turn white, I know she’s just as turned on as I am.

“What’s the matter, baby?” I ask her. Swallowing, she meets my eyes.

“Why did you stop there?” she asks. “God, I want you so damn bad.” I walk back to her, knowing what I’m doing is wrong. I told her to get ready, and I should have made her obey me. But the way her eyes don’t leave mine captures my attention, and the sweet, heady scent of her need permeates the air. I won’t fuck her. Not yet. She isn’t ready for that. But I don’t have to walk away, either.

“Yeah?” I ask her, prowling closer. “Left you all hot and bothered?”

“Of course,” she says, her frown now paired with a glare. “Wasn’t that your purpose?” I shake my head.

“No,” I tell her. “My purpose was to show you how much you mean to me. To show you how much I want you.” I take her right hand and firmly press it to the corner of the mattress and then slowly give the other hand the same treatment. “Keep your hands just like this.”

When she obeys, I smile. “Very good girl,” I tell her. “So I left you all hot and bothered, did I?”

“Yes,” she moans. “Yes.”

“Uh huh. So when I pull down your leggings and touch your sweet pussy, I’ll find you soaked for me?” She whimpers.

“Yes, Sir. God, yes, Daddy.” I’m not sure I have the self-control for this, but I’ll give it my best shot.

I kneel over her and cage her in, my knees on either side of her curvy, petite frame. Bending down, I take the edge of her leggings between my teeth and pull them down slowly. I love the way her hips tremble when I bare her. How her body rises to meet me, eager for my touch.

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