Page 42 of Chaining Daisy
“I’m not sure you understand the concept yet, Daisy.” He lifts a hand and rubs his chin as he glares down at me.
“I do. I promise, I do.”
“No. I think you need a lesson.”
Oh. Actually, he’s right. I don’t understand this concept at all. I definitely need a lesson. But do we have time? And what about the girls? What if they hear? What are we going to tell them? When are we going to tell them? Ever? The stress of acting nearly killed—
“I can see you’re overthinking things. Let me make this easy for you, baby. Don’t think. Just do as I say.”
I nod rapidly because that’s what I want more than anything right now. I don’t want to think anymore or agonize about everything. It’s exhausting and draining and I’ve been doing it for so many years—it leaves a taste in the back of my mouth like acid reflux, a sour burn.
“Kneel down.”
I use the guest chair in his office to help me lower myself to my knees on his rug.
“Crawl to me.”
Embarrassed, I glance up at him, but the intensity in his molten brown eyes and the way his cock is tenting his slacks as he strokes it radiates just how turned on he gets when I listen to him and do as he says. He likes to test me just as much as I like the mindless, hazy lust I feel when he tells me what to do…and the surge of power I feel when I see how it drives him wild.
I lick my lips and note the way his eyes follow the movement, his fingers curling over himself and gripping harder as I start to crawl around the right side of his desk. Each slide of my knees makes my jean skirt pull tight, the globes of my ass slowly becoming visible, the thong I’m wearing rasping against my skin as my thighs slide forward.
“God, that ass,” he whispers, but the sound carries, and I grin when I hear it.
“It’s your ass,” I tell him.
“Damn right it is,” he retorts immediately.
When I reach his feet, I sit back on my heels, staring at the rug, waiting for further instruction. I’m half-certain he’s going to pull out his cock and have me suck him off again, then send me off to my date with his cum still sliding down my throat.
I rub my thighs together. A girl can only hope.
But Daddy doesn’t unzip. He gently cups my chin with a calculating look as he says, “I know that was hard. You did really well crawling to me, sweetheart. So hot.”
Pleasure swirls up through my belly because I love having his approval, especially after all that anxiety over what he might say about tonight.
“I wanted to give you something before you go.” His touch falls away and he turns to open a drawer. He pulls out a small black box and hands it to me.
It’s a ring box.
I freeze and my mind goes blank because I’m not sure what to think.
“It’s nothing big so don’t panic.” He holds up a hand as if he can physically stop any anxiety looming in my chest. I’m nervous and surprised, though his words are definitely quelling the first.
He continues, “This isn’t an engagement ring. Just a trinket. But I had this ring made for you a while ago. And I want you to wear something from me tonight so you remember who you belong to.”
God. The inside of my chest has popped and is fizzing over like a bottle of champagne. Confetti flutters around inside my head…my entire body is doing some strange celebration because Gunnar Strong is marking me.
As if I could forget I’m his.
I swallow a squeal as I carefully open the box. Inside is a plain silver ring. I pull it from the velvet-covered foam and realize there’s an inscription inside. A tiny, minuscule stamped teddy bear sits next to the words.Not supposed to be easy. But worth it.
Holy fuck.
When I glance up at him through my thick false lashes, I see him gritting his teeth almost as if he regrets giving this to me, regrets being this vulnerable.
I slide the ring onto my right ring finger. Of course, it fits perfectly. And I love how it looks so innocent and simple on the outside, but inside it’s a whole different story. Just like us.
I reach up and squeeze his hand.“Thank you. God, thank you, Gunnar. I love it.” I don’t use his pet name. I use his real name, because I’m not playing and I want him to know that I mean every word.
