Page 57 of Melt For Us, Daddy
But before she could say or do anything else, a squeak on the stairs jolted him out of his fantasy. Yanking his hand from his pants, he sat up straighter, praying his face wasn’t nearly as red as it felt. His heart was beating so hard it nearly drowned out their footsteps as they made their way down to the living room.
“Ivy’s going to bake us some brownies if you want to come hang out with us in the kitchen, Jacob.”
The sound of Cordelia’s voice only made the shame burn hotter and brighter. “Yes, ma’am,” he managed to choke out.
“Are you alright? Your voice sounds… odd.”
“Just a little tired.”
“Hmm. Maybe you should take a nap. You’ve been under a lot of stress, and you need rest.”
A nap. In his bed. Where he could be free to dream about them until he finished his filthy, wicked fantasy and spilled his seed all over his hand.
But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.
Guilt sat in his stomach, so heavy it made him want to be sick. “I don’t need a nap. And I don’t need you telling me what to do all the time.”
He was being rude. Unnecessarily curt. And the ache in his stomach worsened as he sat there, awaiting her rebuke.
But it didn’t come.
“My apologies. You are, of course, free to do whatever you want with your time.”
He listened to the sound of her soft footsteps moving away from the living room, the rock in his stomach growing heavier with each one. And he found himself almost wishing he was Ivy. Wishing he could go to her and accept whatever punishment she deemed necessary so she would forgive him.
But he wasn’t Ivy. And it was wrong for him to want a woman, any woman to have that kind of authority over him.
So why did the thought of begging for forgiveness on his knees before accepting a painful punishment for his behavior have him so consumed with need he could barely breathe?
Cordelia
* * *
“What was that all about?”
Ivy was already at the kitchen island, the ingredients for brownies carefully set out in front of her. In exactly the order she would need them, if Cordelia knew her girl.
“No idea. I suggested he go take a nap and he got all snippy about it. Said he didn’t need me telling him what to do all the time.”
“He has a point.”
Annoyance pricked at her chest, but she tamped it down. No need to take her hurt out on Ivy.
And it was hurt. Which didn’t make any sense. She shouldn’t care if Jacob didn’t want her bossing him around, and yet she couldn’t deny it had stung when he’d snapped at her.
“What do you mean?” she asked, shoving those hurt feelings to the side for the time being.
Glancing up, Ivy quirked a brown in a rather impressive imitation of the look Cordelia often gave her. “I mean, it’s one thing for you to boss me around. But he's not your submissive.”
“Maybe not, but he’s still my responsibility.”
“And you’re doing your duty by him by keeping him safe. If he doesn’t want to be bossed by you then that’s his prerogative.”
“You’re right. I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much.” And, if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t really want to examine it too closely. Part of her worried what she would find if she dug too deep into her increasingly complicated feelings where Jacob was concerned.
Moving away from the island, Ivy walked over and sat straddling Cordelia’s lap. There was a smudge of flour on her nose, which crinkled a bit as she smiled, her eyes dancing. “Because you’re a Daddy. You have to take care of the people around you. It’s like, built into your DNA or something.”
Sliding her hands up her girl’s thighs, she cupped Ivy’s ass, kneading the soft flesh, grateful for the distraction of her girl’s warm weight on her lap. “Hmm. You may be on to something, blossom. I guess I’ll just have to focus all that bossy energy somewhere else.”
