Page 25 of Puck Me Daddy

As he helped me stand, I leaned into his touch, savoring the feeling of being cherished and protected. Demian led me into his lavish bathroom, where the clawfoot tub waited like a gleaming porcelain throne. Steaming water cascaded from the faucet, enveloping the room in a warm, fragrant embrace. Bubbles danced on the surface, inviting me to sink into their velvety depths.

My heart fluttered as he helped me undress, his fingers brushing against my skin with a gentleness that made me ache for more. With each piece of clothing that fell away, I felt myself shedding the weight of the world, leaving behind nothing but bare vulnerability.

As I stepped into the tub, the water enfolded me in its soothing embrace, washing away the lingering tension from our passionate encounter. Demian knelt beside me, his strong hands gliding over my shoulders and arms in deliberate strokes that left me breathless. Every touch seemed to echo with a silent promise—that he would always be there to protect and care for me.

Our roles felt crystallized: he the steadfast guardian, and I the cherished little one, safe within his care. It was a dynamic that both thrilled and terrified me, but I couldn't deny the allure of surrendering to his guidance.

"You're so precious to me," Demian murmured, holding my chin in a tender yet firm grip. His gray eyes met mine, their depths filled with a warmth that threatened to melt my defenses.I nodded, swallowing hard against the sudden lump in my throat.

After what felt like an eternity, Demian helped me out of the tub, wrapping me in a fluffy towel that smelled faintly of his cologne. As I dried off, I slipped into one of his oversized hockey T-shirts, the fabric swallowing my frame in a cozy embrace. The soft cotton clung to my damp skin, a tangible reminder of our connection.

“You can sleep in this tonight,” I told him.

“Wait,” I said. “I’m allowed to sleep at your place?”

He smiled. “You’re not just allowed. It’s Daddy’s orders.”

It was kind of early but I didn’t care. I was tired after such an exciting day, not to mention such a restless night last night. Demian must have sensed it—another way he was looking after me.

Leading me to his bed, Demian tucked me in with a gentle smile, asking if I wanted a bedtime story. The childlike request sent a thrill racing through me, and I nodded eagerly, snuggling deeper into the blankets.

He began to read from a well-loved book about a determined little bear who lived in an enchanted forest. The tale was lighthearted and sweet, filled with lessons about courage and perseverance. As his deep, soothing voice washed over me, I felt a pang of sadness for my new stuffie, still waiting for me at home.

Demian must have noticed the shift in my expression, because he paused mid-sentence, his brow furrowing in concern. "What's wrong, baby girl?"

I hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I just . . . I wish I had Mr. Frosty here with me."

A slow smile spread across his face, and he leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I can get you another stuffie for thisplace too," he offered. "Or, if you'd like, you and Mr. Frosty could just move in with me."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I nodded, unable to find the words to express my elation. The thought of sharing a life with Demian—of waking up every morning in his strong arms—filled me with a happiness I'd never known before.

As Demian resumed reading, his voice lulled me toward sleep, each word carrying me further away from reality and into the realm of dreams. I drifted off halfway through the story, my heart full and my body humming with contentment. In the safety of his embrace, I knew that I had finally found my home.

Sunlight streamed through thefloor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow on Demian's penthouse as I stirred awake. I couldn’t believe I’d slept for so long, all through the night. In fact, I’d slept like a baby.

My senses slowly adjusted to the unfamiliar surroundings, and the scent of freshly baked goods wafted through the air. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and spotted Demian in the doorway. He stood there in jeans and a t-shirt, one arm raised up against the frame showing off his impressive biceps.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said. “Ready for some breakfast?”

I practically jumped out of bed with excitement and bounded over to him. “Something smells good, Daddy!”

“Follow me,” he said, leading me to a large wicker hamper on the kitchen island. His muscular arms flexed as he lifted the lid, revealing an assortment of iced pink pastries, mini doughnuts, and other treats nestled within.

"I took the liberty of ordering breakfast from a local bakery. I hope you don't mind. Didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered one of everything"

I couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. "Not at all. It looks amazing."

The pastries were arranged on a tiered stand, while the mini doughnuts sat atop a bed of powdered sugar. Strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries filled small bowls, adding a pop of color to the display.

I sat at the island and Demian handed me a cartoon-themed plate with stars all over it, complete with matching cutlery, and a small sippy cup filled with juice. My cheeks flushed with happiness as I took in the playful yet meaningful setup. This man, who exuded strength and confidence in every aspect of his life, had taken the time to create an environment that catered to my needs and desires.

We sat at the island, indulging in the delicious spread before us. Demian watched me with a tender gaze, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. I savored each bite, relishing the sweetness of the pastries and the tanginess of the fresh fruit.

As we ate, Demian regaled me with stories of his hockey career, sharing both triumphs and setbacks. His openness and vulnerability allowed me to see a side of him that few others ever experienced. I felt honored to be let into his world, and my heart swelled with gratitude.

The act of eating breakfast together, using age play-themed utensils and sipping from a sippy cup, accentuated my sense of being cared for. I reveled in the gentle vulnerability that enveloped me, knowing that I was safe and cherished in Demian's presence.

“So,” he said softly, “I have hockey practice tonight.”

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