Page 86 of His Red Carnation

And he did. Through all of it—the chaos, the pain, the anger—I knew I could lean on him. I didn’t have to carry the weight of everything on my own. I had him.

“I know,” I whispered, feeling the tightness in my chest start to ease. “I don’t think I could do this without you.”

Callan didn’t say anything more; he just pulled me closer, wrapping his arm around me as I rested my head against his chest. The outside world still felt overwhelming, but with him by my side, I knew I’d be alright.

“Hey,” he whispered, his hand trailing slowly along the inside of my thigh. “Why don’t you sit back, relax, and open those beautiful legs of yours. Let me feast on your pretty pussy.” His voice was a playful mix of seduction and warmth, sending a flutter through my chest.

Throughout my recovery, he had been so gentle—always patient, but never holding back his desire. There were times when I begged for him, needing him so badly, and he’d happily oblige. A few moments even had me worried my stitches might tear, but it didn’t matter. I needed him in a way that made everything else fade away.

Before I could even respond, Callan slunk down on his knees in front of the couch, gently parting my legs as he thumbed my panties and lowered them to the floor. My heart began to race as his hands trailed back up to my thighs, his hazel-green eyes fixed on mine. I lifted my hips slightly in anticipation as he licked his lips, giving me a small smirk. He started to trail gentle kisses up my thigh, trying to tease me, and succeeding.

“Come on, Daddy. Make me come, and then maybe I’ll let you come inside of me,” I whispered, though my tone was firm. Callan loved when I was dominant, and seeing him on his knees for me always made me feel like the powerful goddess that I was, a title he never let me forget.

He grunted, biting on his lower lip, and I took my hands to his hair, pulling him closer. He exhaled before pressing his lips firmly to my pussy, his tongue instantly finding my clit. I watched as he lapped his tongue around, a look of desire and hunger from him as we locked eyes. The heat in my core began to swell and my hips bucked up and down in anticipation of my orgasm. Callan moaned loudly, sending a vibration through his mouth, causing my pussy to seize with release as he gripped my thighs hard. I clenched my eyes shut, my cries of pleasure echoing throughout the living room, and I immediatelychased another orgasm, using Callan’s tongue and mouth as my personal fuck toy, and I came again and again.

“Fuck, I can’t handle it. I’m gonna fucking burst, baby,” Callan mumbled before removing his mouth from my pussy, staring up at me eagerly as I blinked open my eyes.

He was waiting for permission, and I loved the way we switched roles based on our moods. I loved how much he had opened himself up for new possibilities, how open-minded he had become.

“Fine.” I sighed, faking exasperation, unable to contain my smile.

“Fuck yes. Thank you, baby. Thanking you for letting me fuck your sweet pussy,” he said eagerly as he lifted himself from the floor and lowered his boxer briefs, letting his cock spring free.

I giggled as I lifted my legs and set my feet on the couch, opening wide for him. I felt a tinge of pain on my side, but I ignored it, needing Callan more than anything.

“Come on then, Daddy. Show me how much you appreciate it,” I said with a sly smile.

He eyed me intently as he positioned me flat on my back and hovered over me, carefully aligning himself as I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his hips. Lately he had been careful not to press his weight against my body for fear of hurting me, and that just meant I got to see his muscled, tattooed body work hard to fuck me.

He slid into me deeply and exhaled as he remained still, looking down at me with widened eyes and pure awe. I rested my hands on his biceps and smiled, slightly lifting my hips with impatience.

“What, baby? You told me to appreciate your pussy, and I’m admiring how fucking good you feel,” he said with a grin, knowing he was teasing me.

“I know what you’re doing. You better start fucking me fast or I won’t let you at all,” I quipped back.

Callan’s grin widened as he began to pump his hips, slowly at first, gradually going faster. He watched as my boobs bounced underneath my thin cotton shirt, my nipples hard from his touch. His eyes trailed back up to mine, and as he perfectly fucked me, rubbing against my g-spot, I cried out with pleasure.

“Come inside me. Now,” I breathed out, then my pussy began to pulse around his cock, a wave of heat enveloping my body. Only a second later, Callan grunted out with pleasure, his loud moans filling the room.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he said as he caught his breath, sitting back and letting my thighs rest around his legs, his cum spilling out of me.

Without hesitation, he got back onto his knees and lifted my legs, wrapping them around his shoulders. He began to lick me clean, and as I watched him and felt his tongue lapping around inside of me, the fire in my core began to burn again. I lifted my hips, seeking more, craving everything he had to give. I knew I would always want more when it came to Callan, and luckily, we had all the time in the world.

* * *

In the following weeks, I watched as the media tore my dad apart. His resignation dominated the headlines, with some calling it the biggest scandal since the Clinton-Lewinsky affair. I did my best to avoid it, but it was everywhere—social media, texts from friends, people on the street hounding me for my opinion.

My mom handled it with nothing but grace. She made a public statement about their divorce, never once speaking ill ofmy dad—at least, not publicly—before whisking herself off to Spain to spend time with my abuela. She said she’d move back to New York when the time was right.

Sarah was being held in a federal detention center, awaiting her trial in federal court. We didn’t know when the trial would be, but I planned to be there, no matter what. I wasn’t going to let her slip through the cracks of the system, and neither was Callan. She had torn my life apart—torn my family apart—and I’d do everything in my power to make sure she spent as much time in prison as possible.

But as much as Sarah haunted my thoughts, I wasn’t going to let her control my future. I had things to look forward to, things she could never take away from me.

Callan and I were packing for our two-week vacation to Fiji. It was the perfect escape before the next big chapter of our lives. After several acceptances from colleges, I’d finally decided on UCLA, majoring in psychology with a minor in Gender Studies. I’d be starting that fall, and I couldn’t wait.

Before we packed up and moved across the country, I wanted this time with Callan, a break from everything that had happened. Just the two of us, somewhere far away, where we could leave the past behind, even if only for a little while.

And then my phone rang, pulling me from my thoughts. A gnawing ache of dread filled my chest as I saw the name on the screen—Dad. As much as I wanted to avoid him, as much as I was still angry at him for everything he had done, he was still my dad.

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