Page 43 of Thor

Thor paused, his face so close to mine I could count each golden stubble on his jaw. Then, deliberately, he pulled back. The loss of his nearness felt physical.

"We should talk more before . . ." He cleared his throat. "I respect you too much to rush this."

I nodded, even as disappointment flooded through me. "You're right."

Thor reached across the table and took my hand in his much larger one. His thumb traced small circles on my skin, sending shivers up my arm.

"We have time," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through me. "I'm not going anywhere."

We migrated to Thor's living room, me curled into the corner of a worn leather couch that had seen better days but offered unexpected comfort. I tucked my feet beneath me, cradling my refilled coffee mug between my hands like a shield. Thor sat at the opposite end, giving me space but watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle with awareness. The morning light filtered through partially drawn blinds, casting stripes across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the surprising softness in his eyes.

"So," I began, needing to break the silence, "you've done this before, you said? The Daddy Dom thing?"

Thor nodded, taking a sip of his black coffee. "Not exactly the same. Every dynamic is different. But yeah, I've been in caregiver roles before."

I considered this, trying to reconcile the man before me—who'd beaten men half to death according to club rumors—with someone who understood the delicate balance of power and care required in a DDLG relationship.

"Tell me what it means to you," I said. "Being a . . . Daddy." The word felt strange on my tongue when applied to a real person instead of my private fantasies.

Thor set his mug down on the coffee table and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His expression grew thoughtful.

"To me, it's about structure, protection, and care," he said carefully. "Not control. There's a big difference. I'm not looking to run your life or tell you what to do. Your independence matters to me."

"Then what would change?" I asked. "Between us, I mean."

"It would be about creating space where you can safely let go of control when you need to," Thor explained. "Where you don't have to be 'on' all the time. Where you can just be, without judgment."

His words struck a chord so deep within me that I had to look away. How long had I craved exactly that? A place to set down the weight of constant self-monitoring, of excellence, of adult responsibility.

"What about rules?" I asked, forcing myself to look back at him. "Isn't that part of it?"

Thor nodded. "Can be. But they'd be ones we agree on together. Meant to make you feel safe, not restricted." He paused. "Maybe check-ins about self-care. Gentle reminders about limits. Safety boundaries during Little space. Whatever helps you feel secure and cared for. I do enjoy discipline, too.”"

I swallowed hard. "My parents always taught me self-reliance was everything. Don't need anyone, don't show weakness."

"Sounds lonely," Thor observed. His voice held no judgment, just understanding.

I laughed, but it came out hollow. "It is. But it's also safe. No one can hurt you if you don't give them the power to."

"That door swings both ways, though," Thor said. "No one can really love you either, if you never let them see all of you."

The simple truth of his words hit me like a physical blow. I stared at him, suddenly seeing beyond the intimidating exterior to the emotional intelligence beneath.

"What if—" I started, then stopped, gathering courage. "What if someone used it against me? My Little side, I mean. Used it to manipulate me or . . . or exposed it to hurt me?"

It was my biggest fear, that someone at my work discovered I was a Little.

Thor's expression darkened, a flicker of that dangerous man I'd glimpsed before passing over his face. "Anyone who'd do that would answer to me," he said, his voice a low growl. "And they wouldn't get a second chance."

He shifted suddenly, moving from his side of the couch to sit beside me. The leather creaked under his weight. Not touching me, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"Listen to me, Mandy." His eyes held mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "I would never let anyone hurt you—either side of you. That's a promise. It’s the most important responsibility a caregiver has."

His massive frame made me feel both small and protected, a contradiction that sent a shiver of pleasure through me. This close, I could smell him—leather and motor oil beneath soap and coffee. Masculine and comforting at once.

Thor reached out, his rough fingertips gently tucking a strand of copper hair behind my ear. The casual touch sent electricity racing across my skin.

"Your Little side isn't a weakness," he continued, his voice softer now. "It's part of who you are. And who you are is..." He trailed off, searching for words.

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