Page 93 of Becoming His Perfect Daddy
I paused for a moment before nodding, showing him I was taking this seriously. “Yes, Daddy. I can do that. I do tend to skip meals when I get writing or involved in a project, though.”
His brow furrowed, and his hand came up to caress my cheek again. I was discovering I absolutely loved that. “Then that sounds like a great rule for you. I need you to keep your strengthup for our activities”—he grinned—“but more importantly, I need you to stay healthy.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“Do you think check-ins would help?”
I considered that as well. Sam texting me as my Daddy to remind me to eat each day? Sign me up. “Yes, they would. And I’d have the added bonus of talking to you even more than I already do.”
He chuckled, which made me grin. “Excellent. Next rule: I control your orgasms, and you have to get my permission to come, no exceptions. If you come without permission, there will be consequences.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and I snorted out a laugh. “You laugh now, but I think you’ll find how serious your Daddy can get. So hands off that gorgeous cock of yours—it’s already been mine for a couple of months now, but there will be serious consequences going forward if you touch it. That includes your sexy asshole, too.”
I flushed, loving this rule. And a little bit looking forward to breaking it to see what he’d do. Maybe. If I was brave enough someday. “Thank you, Daddy. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.”
He laughed. “I think you will be when you want to.”
I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “Whatever do you mean? I’m an angel.”
He caught my gaze, his eyes heated. “Yes, you fucking are.” He leaned in for a kiss then, one that scrambled my brain and had me reeling when he pulled away minutes later.
“Damn . . .” I started, pushing hair off my forehead. “What were we talking about? I think you literally kissed me senseless.”
He chuckled. “Good. Now onto the next rule, and this one is my most serious.” His expression hardened. “You are never to disparage yourself. If I hear any negative self-talk coming out of that gorgeous mouth, you will be severely punished.” His eyes narrowed at me. “Do you understand?”
I swallowed once, nodding. “I understand, Daddy. But . . . may I ask a question?”
His smile was gentle. “Of course, baby.”
“What do I do when the anxiety gets too loud? It’s like I have this voice in my head that tells me I’ll never be good enough, that I’m not doing enough. That no matter how hard I try, I’ll never do anything right.”
“Oh, sweet boy,” Sam breathed as he pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. Light kisses grazed my hair, and I settled into the calm of his embrace. I could stay here all night.
When he finally pulled back, I met his determined gaze.
“Listen, my beautiful boy,” he started, “I’m not a therapist, and I won’t pretend to be. If you need to start seeing someone who can help you manage your anxiety, I’ll support you in any way I can as you get the process started. And in the meantime and any time during or after, you can always come to me. I can’t promise it will make the voice go away, but maybe I can help it quiet down for a time.” He kissed my head again before letting me go. “How does that sound?”
My eyes burned as I swallowed down my tears, and my words came out in a choked whisper. “That sounds amazing, Daddy.”
“I’m glad. Thank you for being honest with me, baby.” He straightened in his seat. “You ready for your last rule? For now, anyway?”
I shifted in my seat. Was I going to like this rule? “Okay, Daddy.”
“Good boy.”
My stomach tumbled at that. I was beginning to think I’d do anything he asked if only he’d call me his good boy all the time.
“Final rule: When we’re together, I take care of you in every way I can. Which can mean helping you cook dinner or cooking it myself, drawing you a bath when you need to relax, picking out your clothes—anything that feels right in the moment. Therule is that you must always ask for what you would like and let me help you as much as I’m able. I will never get mad at you for expressing your needs, okay?”
I bit my lip, fighting tears yet again. Sam was offering me everything I’d ever wanted. Was I dreaming? Could this be real?
The moment the words left his mouth, I already knew what I wanted help with. Something I’d struggled with for years, something I’d often longed to have a Daddy help me with so I didn’t have to do it alone.
Tears welled in my eyes. When they started to spill over, Sam reached up to thumb them away. “What, baby? Are you okay?”
I nodded, giving him a watery but genuine smile. “I know what I need, Daddy.”
“Anything, baby. I want to give you the world.”
I choked back a sob, swallowing it down so I could speak. We’d talked about it many times before—Sam wasn’t the only one who had been socialized to keep his needs hidden. Maybe he knew this would be hard for me, which was why he’d made it a rule. “I’ve always wanted help with this one thing in particular. It’s something I have to do but really don’t like.”
