Page 7 of Daddy's Doll

I want to take her by surprise, to make her pay for talking back to me, but also startle her enough that she can’t hide behind any kind of wall she’s built up with all the hurt I caused by leaving her. Because I know this building like the back of my hand, she’s in for a treat. I know where the light switches are, and I'll use that knowledge to my advantage. She’s like a sitting duck right now and has no idea, and that’s even more reason for her to come to the cabin with me. I was in too much of a panic when I left her, making her think I didn’t want her, but now I realize that the safest place for my doll is right next to me at all times. She can’t be protected here at Hillcrest, and she needs to see that firsthand. As I sneak over to the switches, I realize Olivia is about to learn a lesson she won't soon forget. She's mine, and I intend to show her just how much she belongs to me.

7

OLIVIA

Ifeel a sense of emptiness settle over me, and I hate that I want the feeling that Dad is here watching me to come back. It’s a delusion, I’m sure, and yet, I want to feel like he’s here with me, stalking me. I want to pretend that I mean more to him than one phone call in three months. I can't help but wonder if my father would ever act on the desires that simmered between us if things had been different. If Mom never tried to kill my siblings, would he have eventually snapped and whisked me away to the wilderness? I dream of that sometimes, even in the hottest part of my anger toward him. I still fall asleep with my hand in my panties, thinking about what it might be like if we lived in a different world. A world where we weren’t father and daughter. A world where he could love me openly. He may not have loved me the way I wanted him to, but he desired me in a way I don’t think he’s ever wanted anyone else. No matter what he says or does, no one will convince me otherwise. I felt the hurried neediness of his hands on me. His mouth was ravenous, like he could not get enough of me. For a man who is usually so controlled, that night—even if just for a moment—he was feral for me.

I'm gliding across the smooth ice, the rhythmic swish of my skates a soothing balm for my overactive mind. Each graceful movement takes me further from the chaos of my world, a brief escape from the tangled web of my thoughts. I try to push them aside, to focus on the sound of my blades carving the ice.

But then, the sensation of a presence, his presence I've been feeling all day, nags at the back of my mind again. What if it’s not him? What if it’s my subconscious warning me of someone dangerous, and I’m just so twisted up in my head about him that I’m ignoring it? I look around, my heart racing, but there's no one here. I’m truly alone. I berate myself for letting my longing for my dad play tricks on my mind.

As if on cue, suddenly the lights in the icehouse flicker off, and I stumble, my skates catching on the once smooth ice I’ve marked up. I fall, my palms hitting the cold surface, and a gasp escapes my lips. Panic bubbles up as I scramble to get up and run. But my skates betray me, making it hard to gain traction on the ice. What if it’s Killian? What if he really is the psycho everyone says he is? He looked absolutely livid when he stormed out earlier.

“Hello? I’m—” I say, but I’m cut off by a large, male body covering mine and pressing me down on the ice. I instantly know it’s my dad, and that both comforts me and infuriates me all at the same time. I thrash against him, but he’s too strong. I’m not a short woman, but he’s a Hillcrest man, which means he’s well over six feet tall. My red flag is that in this moment, I’m so angry, I think I can take him.

“Get off me!” I scream, but he covers my mouth with his large palm, and his body is eerily still, like this is the calmest he’s ever been in his entire life. I spread my legs, trying to gather the momentum to scissor them, to hopefully kick at him with my skates, but he takes the opportunity to jam his thigh between my legs to better hold me down. His cock is thick and hard against my ass. His jeans and the thin material of my skating dress do nothing to hide his arousal, and I hate that my body jerks back against him like I’m starved for his touch. My nipples pull tightly, poking against the cold ice, and it’s a vast contrast from the heat of his body.

“You hung up on me, doll. I thought maybe you were hurt, or sick, but here you are, enjoying yourself on the ice like you didn’t even miss me.” He growls the words, using his warm hand to brush my hair away from my neck. I can feel his cock jump with excitement as he grinds against my ass and roughly grabs my hair, tugging my head to the side. I had no idea he was on campus, but even if I had, I still would have hung up on him. I start to mumble, thrashing against him, and he must want to hear my reply because he pulls his hand slightly off of my mouth, enough at least so I can speak.

“Maybe I was hurt and sick for the weeks you left me on my own to fend for myself, and now I don’t need you,” I lie. I’ll always need him, but he doesn’t deserve to hear those words come out of my mouth. He grips my hair harder, yanking back with a force that actually hurts me. I cry out, but my pussy betrays me, clenching around nothing and making me wish his cock was pushing inside me instead of only grinding down on my ass.

“You’re being a very bad doll,” he grunts out, lifting up long enough to flip me over on my back before he lowers his weight back down on top of me. I shiver and I don’t think any of it has to do with the cold ice I’ve been lying on in a thin skating dress. He uses his free hand to wrench my legs further apart and flexes his hips against mine, his thick cock rubbing directly against my pussy. I can feel the weight of his length, and even in the darkness, I can feel his whole body tense up like he wasn’t expecting this to feel so good. He groans, letting out a long breath as he rocks himself against me. I should be screaming, kicking, throwing a fit until someone comes in to check on us because that’s exactly what he deserves after leaving me hanging for so long, but I’m too caught up in the moment to do any of those things. I gasp at the thought of him pushing inside of me, and he must be thinking about the same thing because he curses, “Fuck, baby. I should have fucked you that night. I should have taken what I’ve wanted. I should have fucked your tight little cunt until I didn’t have a choice but to take you out into the wilderness with me.”

Tears sting the back of my eyes, and I can feel how wet my pussy is getting at his dirty words. He’s too late. I don’t trust him. I don’t know why he’s finally decided to come here, but I don’t believe that he regrets leaving me. It wouldn’t have taken him three months to figure that out if he really cared about me. “Get off of me. I don’t want to talk to you,” I tell him harshly, and I have to bite my bottom lip because even with the heat of his body seeping into mine, the ice on my backside is sending chills down my body. “Go back to your precious cabin. I’m fine on my own,” I lie again. I haven’t been fine since I realized how deep this crush I’ve had on my dad actually goes. I haven’t been fine since the night he kissed me, stole my breath, and then left me wriggling in an empty bed, wishing I could feel the stubble of his five o’clock shadow scraping against my cheek as he devoured my mouth.

I can’t see his expression, but I can feel the anger rolling off of him at my words. His hand is in my hair again, pulling hard like he’s actually thinking of dragging me out of here caveman style. He’s not the same careful man he was the night he finally kissed me. He’s unhinged, ready to strike and take back everything he gave away the day he sent me back to school and avoided my pleading phone calls. I arch up, trying to figure out if I can wiggle out of his grasp because I need to think straight. I need to speak to him when he doesn’t have me pinned beneath him because I’m going to forget all of the hurt of the last three months and beg him to pull the crotch of my skating dress to the side and fuck me like he wishes he would have the night in his shed. He groans against my ear when his cock rubs against my slit because of my movements. He must realize that I’m trying to wriggle away from him because his hand goes to my throat, squeezing and effectively holding me down on the ice.

“Why are you even here now? Couldn’t find a woman willing to fill your bed out in the middle of nowhere?” I grind out, hating how small my voice sounds. “I’ve moved on. You were right, Dad. What happened that night was a mistake. It’s wrong, remember? Isn’t that what you said? Isn’t that the last thing you said to me before you dropped me off without so much as a ‘sorry for almost fucking you and then throwing you away like trash, doll’?” My teeth chatter on the last word, and a shiver runs through my whole body.

“Watch your mouth, doll.” I quiver again at the use of his nickname for me, even if he’s only doing it to spite me for what I just said to him. I’m glad I can’t see him right now because I know the second I look into those stormy eyes of his, it’ll be over for me, and I’ll cave. “You can spin it any way you want, but you gave yourself to me that night, and I intend on cashing in,” he growls, his mouth trailing against my neck and down my chest. He finds my hard nipple beneath the thin fabric of my skating dress and bites down hard, causing me to cry out and my hips to thrust up against his. Even if he’s being rough with me, and it’s not at all how I’d dreamed or hoped this would be, I can’t help but want him. His body fits so perfectly against mine, and I know he feels it too by the way his groan rumbles out of his chest and reverberates against mine. “I didn’t come here to punish you, but I will if that’s what you and that sassy mouth of yours want from me. Is that what you want? Do you want to fight before we make up for good? Either way, you’re leaving with me tonight. There’s no escaping me, but I’ll let you choose how this goes down.” His voice is even, but the husky undertone tells me that he’s just barely keeping himself together. I feel him move down my body, peppering warm kisses down my chest and stomach. He stops at my navel like he can somehow detect where it is even through my dress and presses his face there, breathing in deeply. “I missed you so fucking much, doll.” My whole body trembles at his admission because he sounds so sincere, and I want to believe him with everything in me, but I almost didn’t survive this man once. I don’t think I can do it a second time when he invariably gets me out of his system and decides once again that we’re better apart.

“You’re too late!” I scream at him, but my body stiffens when I feel his fingers at the crotch of my skating dress.

8

OLIVIA

Even though I can’t see him, I feel that he’s pushed up on his knees, but he’s still using one hand to hold me down on the ice. He’s far too big for me to push him off, but I put up a good fight regardless, kicking my legs and thrashing, just trying anything to get him to let me go. I’ve thought about this moment for so long. I’ve wanted him for even longer than I can remember, but I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t want him to fuck me because he’s angry that I’m ignoring him. I don’t want him to do something that he’s going to try and take back just because he’s a Hillcrest man and his ego is bruised.

“It’s never too late,” he tells me, and his tone is final. His fingers are longer than I remember, and they feel scalding against my frozen skin. “You’ve always been mine, Olivia. You know it, I know it, everyone fucking knows it. Your mother knew it, and I’ve fought it for too long.” I stop moving when he mentions Mom. Did she know what we were doing that night? Did she see the way I looked at him like he hung the moon? Because for me, he fucking did. He was everything, and I trusted him wholeheartedly even when he was standoffish. I wanted to soothe him. I wanted to be the soft place where he landed even though I knew that wasn’t my right. He belonged to someone else even if his heart wasn’t in it.

I start to retort, to tell him that I never second-guessed us, not even when I knew no one else would understand. I don’t get the chance, though. I feel his warm, ragged breath against my cold inner thighs first, and he gives me no time to react before he’s pulling the fabric to the side, and I feel his tongue flick out and lick down my slit. I cry out at the unfamiliar sensation, my hips bucking up just as a curse leaves his mouth, reverberating against my skin. He doesn’t back off. He’s kissing my pussy so intimately that my toes curl inside my skates, and I can’t tell if I’m trying to pull away or push closer to his devilish tongue. Maybe both. Definitely both.

“You’re as sweet as I knew you’d be,” he murmurs. His fingers grip my hips and jerk me up to allow him to have his fill. I gasp because the contrast of his bruising hold on me and the pleasure coursing through my body from his tongue’s vigorous onslaught has every nerve ending in my body set on fire.

“It’s too much,” I cry out when he sucks on my clit, his fingers biting into my skin so harshly I know his fingerprints will be there tomorrow.

“It’s not enough,” he tells me before licking from my clit down to my opening, pressing his tongue inside me. When he makes his way back up to my bundle of nerves, my whole body convulses, and I swear I can feel him smiling against my bare pussy as I come all over his mouth. The stubble shadowing his cheeks and chin scrapes against my sensitive skin and sends shivers that feel electric through my body.

I squeak out an “Oh!” when I hear the heavy doors to the icehouse open, and my fight-or-flight kicks in. If someone sees us like this, it’ll be broadcast across the entire campus before I can even get my skates off. I try to move, twisting over on my stomach only because he allows me to. He grabs me by the hair and pulls my head back, and he kisses my neck before whispering, “You can fight me on this, doll, but you’re coming home with me.” I don’t respond because that quickly he’s gone, probably realizing whoever is walking in will flip the lights on, and no one knows the climate here at Hillcrest better than Dad. Despite the things he’s saying, he knows how bad it would be if what we did got out. Or maybe he’s come to his senses, and he’s already planning his trip back into the wilderness.

I manage to smooth my dress out and get to a standing position before the bright lights flick to life, and I cover my eyes from the shock of it all. My stomach drops when I see who it is.

Frank rushes toward me, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with what I think is supposed to be genuine worry, but there’s a bite of annoyance in his tone. He’s saying something else, but my mind is elsewhere. My eyes dart around the huge room, but there’s no sign of another soul, and definitely not Dad.

I blink, realizing I'd tuned Frank out completely when he puts his hand on my shoulder. "I... yeah, I'm fine," I stammer, trying to collect myself.

He tugs me toward the opening of the rink, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "What happened? Was someone else in here?" he asks, his brown eyes searching mine. My stomach drops when he moves closer, so I sidestep him the best I can.

---