Page 11 of Protect Me Daddy

When I finished, he nodded approvingly. "You handled that difficult customer well. I'm proud of you."

A warm glow spread through my chest at his praise. It was so different from the gruff indifference I was used to. Part of me wanted to bask in it, while another part whispered warnings about letting my guard down.

"So, anything helpful?”

“Hmm. I don’t think so. But I enjoyed listening to what happened in your day.”

“I’m glad," I murmured, taking a sip of wine to hide my conflicted emotions. I was nervous in case I’d forgotten something that could be useful, but felt proud that he liked listening to me.

Before too long, the meal was ready.

The aroma of the coq au vin filled the penthouse, a rich and tantalizing scent that promised a culinary delight. Dwight plated the dish with meticulous care, the deep burgundy sauce glistening under the soft glow of the pendant lights that dangled elegantly above the dining table. The tender chicken, marinated in red wine and herbs, nestled among pearl onions and bacon, exuded warmth and comfort.

As he set the plate in front of me, I couldn't help but marvel at how each element was placed thoughtfully, creating a work of art that beckoned to be savored. The steam rose delicately from the dish, carrying with it hints of thyme and garlic that danced inthe air, teasing my senses and stirring a hunger I hadn't realized I had.

Dwight's eyes held a spark of anticipation as he watched me take my first bite. The flavors exploded on my tongue, a symphony of tastes that spoke of careful preparation and culinary expertise. It was rich, and deep, and so intense. Weirdly, I was overcome by memories that weren't even mine—an imagined childhood in which I ate food as good as this. It made me feel a little sad and overwhelmed.

"Oh my god!” I sputtered. “This is, honestly, the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Dwight's eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'm glad you're enjoying it, little one."

The term of endearment sent a shiver down my spine. It felt dangerous and comforting all at once, like standing at the edge of a cliff while knowing strong arms would catch me if I fell.

As we continued to eat and talk, I found myself torn between the urge to relax into this caring dynamic and the instinct to protect myself that had served me well for so long. But with each gentle touch and attentive gesture from Dwight, my walls crumbled just a little bit more.

I couldn't help but notice how Dwight's posture changed as we settled onto his plush leather couch. His shoulders relaxed, but there was an intensity in his eyes that made my breath catch.

"Tilly," he began, his voice low and serious, "I want to share something important with you. A story that changed my life."

I nodded, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. "I'm listening," I said softly.

Dwight took a deep breath. "Five years ago, I was working a case involving domestic violence. That's when I met Sarah." His jaw tightened as he continued, "She was naturally submissive, and her abuser had twisted that beautiful part of her nature into something ugly."

My heart ached at the thought. I'd seen similar situations at the bar, women trapped in cycles they couldn't escape.

"What happened to her?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I got her out," Dwight said, a fierce pride in his eyes. "But her recovery . . . that's when everything changed for me."

As he spoke about Sarah's healing journey, I found myself leaning closer, drawn in by the raw emotion in his voice. He described how she introduced him to the DD/lg community, a world I'd only vaguely heard of before.

"It awakened something in me, Tilly," Dwight admitted, his gaze meeting mine. "A need to protect, to nurture. I threw myself into research, connected with mentors. I realized this was my calling."

I felt a flutter in my stomach, a mix of excitement and apprehension. "And Sarah?" I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Dwight's face softened. "She's safe now. Married to a wonderful Daddy Dom who helped her recover fully." He paused, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "But she taught me who I really am."

The tenderness in his touch sent shivers through me. I found myself wanting to lean into it, to let him take care of me the way he described. But years of self-reliance made me hesitate.

"It sounds . . . intense," I said, trying to process everything he'd shared.

Dwight nodded. "It can be. But it's also incredibly fulfilling. For both parties." His eyes searched mine, and I felt like he could see right through me. "Have you ever felt drawn to something like that, little one?"

The question hung in the air between us, heavy with possibility. I thought about my stuffed animals at home, the fairytales I still loved to read. How sometimes I longed for someone to just take care of everything for a while.

"I . . . I'm not sure," I admitted, my voice small. "It's a lot to take in."

Dwight's hand found mine, his touch reassuring. "We can take it slow, Tilly. There's no rush. I just wanted you to understand this part of me."

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