Page 16 of Natasha
Tucking her hands beneath her hips, Natasha tensed when Silas opened the car door. She bit her lip and looked down at her lap while he got into the car and stowed his duffel bag in the back seat. The silence in the car was deafening, and Silas said nothing the entire ride back to the dance school.
Natasha passed the time by concentrating on how even she could keep her breathing, and by the time they reached the dance school parking lot, she had almost reached a semblance of calm.
When they came to a stop, Silas turned to her and asked, "Do you teach tomorrow?"
"No," Natasha answered. "I don't work on the weekends."
Silas nodded at her and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Then we'll deal with your manners, tonight. Where do you live from here? "
"What do you mean?" Natasha asked. Her mind was buzzing with questions, and all of her breathing work went out the window in a moment.
Silas didn't answer her question. "Natasha, where do you live?"
"Just behind the studio," she answered, biting her lip.
"Do I leave my car here and we walk, or should I drive around?"
"It would be better if you parked behind the studio. My grandmother will be by early tomorrow...er..." Natasha glanced at her wristwatch and frowned. It wasn't just past midnight; it was now nearly three in the morning. Her grandmother would be arriving at the school at precisely 5:00 am. The last thing Natasha wanted her to find was Silas' car. She could just imagine the colorful language the matriarch of her family would have to say about the matter.
Clearing her throat, Natasha said, "My grandmother is very old-fashioned and will be here in a couple of hours. I'd rather she didn't run into you on your way to your car."
Silas nodded, already pulling out of the parking lot. "Which way?"
Natasha guided Silas toward her apartment, and all too soon, they were getting out of his car. Turning toward him, Natasha hesitated in the quiet of the street. She could smell the dawn that was coming, the crisp air still around them, and she sighed. "I know I shouldn't have bitten you, but y—"
"But nothing, little girl." Silas shook his head as he rounded his car and came to stand in front of her. "I kept you from getting us into bigger trouble with Tori than we were already in. Lost my head when I saw James talking to you, and that's on me, but you're going to have to learn to listen to me from now on."
Natasha pursed her lips and looked away from his too intense stare. Suddenly, she hated this man and his eyes that seemed to go right through her. "I don't have to listen to anyone," she said quietly, fingers clenching in the soft material of the too-long sleeves of his sweatshirt.
"You do if you want me, little doll." Silas stepped closer to her, crowding her against his car. "And you want me, don't you?"
Her mouth went dry at Silas' question, because she did. She wanted him more than anything she could remember since her first time taking the stage as a principal ballerina. "You know I do," Natasha rasped out, her voice catching in her throat.
"Then you'll learn how to behave, little one," Silas murmured. He leaned forward until their bodies were flush against each other, and he bent low over her, his lips just touching her hair. "This is a new world for you. But there's order here. With me." His fingers gently brushed her jaw as he turned her face up to look at him. Silas seemed impossibly tall now. He was all she could see, and he smiled tenderly down at her. "I can give you security, peace. We can make those thoughts quiet, but you have to trust me."
Natasha's breath was coming quick now. "Wh-what does that mean? Trust you?"
"There are rules. When Daddy tells you no, you listen. Tonight, you didn't. And that means there's a punishment, but I want you to understand that Daddies are more than rules and punishments."
Natasha licked her lips and sagged against the cool metal of the car at her back. A heat ignited in her listening to Silas. His words had her curious, aroused, excited, but also frightened.
No man she'd been with had affected her even remotely close to this, but then again, nothing they'd ever said or done had had her this interested, either. There was something...right about Silas' words. Something that spoke to her and woke her up in a way she knew she wouldn't be able to navigate without him. Or if she did, it wouldn't be as easy or enjoyable, without him by her side.
"And what else are they?" she whispered. Silas smiled broadly at her, his eyes gentle in the dim light of the streetlight overhead.
"Daddies spoil good little girls. They take care of them." His hand stroked her neck, his calloused fingers trailing up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Daddies make sure their baby girls are happy and safe. Do you want that from me." His hand slid around to cup her head, his fingers carding through her hair as he added, "Little girl?"
"Yes. Yes, please," Natasha responded almost immediately. The luxury of order, the promise of stopping her thoughts, thoughts that always seemed to stray back to that night she'd run from her final performance.
"Yes, what?" Silas asked her softly, eyes going to her mouth as he waited for her to say the magic words. The two words that would bring her everything she never knew she wanted until Silas.
"Y-yes, Daddy," Natasha whispered shyly. A blush warmed her cheeks, and she was grateful for the darkness around them. In the dark, it was easier to give in to what she wanted, easier to give over her control and make herself vulnerable. She licked her lips, testing out the word in her mouth; it felt foreign, as her own father had never much been in the picture, but the word didn't feel wrong, just different.
He stepped back from her and held his hand out to her. "Then lead the way, little one."
Natasha hesitated for a moment before she slipped her hand into his and squared her shoulders. Turning towards the stairs of the small row house she rented, Natasha tried to put as much confidence as she could into her steps, but the truth was that she was positively shaking.
She wasn't entirely sure what she had just agreed to with Silas, but what she did know was that the crush of her thoughts was too much for her to bear on her own any longer. She needed a reprieve. Solace. Anything that would give her a measure of peace, and if this man was offering it to her, then she was seizing the opportunity with both hands. It didn't matter that she hadn't spoken to him before today. Inexplicably, she trusted him to give her what she needed.
