Page 32 of Her Biker Daddy

“Stop it, daddy, stop it. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!” She breaks as I push her over the edge, tears streaming down her cheeks and I follow her straight over, quaking for several minutes, until things begin to settle. My heart is pounding when I can hear and feel the tears still falling from my girl, and I quickly free her arms, wrapping her up against my chest and move us back into our bedroom.

I head straight for the bathroom, turning on the tub, and I stroke her back as I undress us, sinking into the warm water even as it continues to fill the tub. Her face is in my neck, and I whisper soft words to her, my lips brushing over temple as I just hold her.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I love you, baby girl. I love you so much. You were so good. You did so good. My good little girl,” I praise over and over until she finally settles, her lips pressing a kiss to my neck. “Are you okay?” Her face moves in a nod against my skin, and I hold the back of her head gently telling her, “Words, baby girl. I need words right now.”

“I’m okay. Better than okay, daddy,” she adds, calming my worry. “I don’t know why I…I never cry but I felt it happening and didn’t want to stop it. It felt like such a…”

“Relief? A weight lifted off your shoulders, letting them come?” I ask meeting her gaze and she nods. “You’ve had to carry everything for so long, had to be strong on your own. I’m not surprised it happened. Especially when we were in that space.”

“I’ve never felt like that before,” she says after a minute as I just held onto her, letting the water lap around us. “The pleasure and pain weren’t even as high as we’ve gone before but that…”

“Let you find the space you feel most free within, let it completely take over you until it brought everything up and out. The ability to push back and fight opened up an emotional place you’ve kept locked up tight, making it feel natural within what we were doing to let it out, not be scared to show it,” I offer, seeing the understanding grow in her eyes.

“Is there something wrong with me?” she asks, making my brows furl. “I mean, I got turned on by you killing those cops and needed you so much with what we did to Grover. I didn’t even blink an eye when you said you’d killed before and now…being able to feel like this when what we were doing…in any other circumstance would be considered…”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, baby,” I promise, kissing her eyes gently to shut them, shuttle away the worry in them. “Enjoying being taken—controlled, forced, or coerced, to do it when it’s by someone you trust, someone you know will never truly hurt you in a bad way, is a healthy way to indulge in your sexual needs. It’s another way to put you in the deepest submissive state possible. It’s more common of a fantasy than you’d imagine amongst men and women, and it no more means that the man is a budding rapist than it means the woman is sick or mentally unwell.

“As for the being aroused after the cops and Grover were dead, it’s not even so much about the death or the actual killing, as it was about the protection it meant. With the cops, for the first time someone was seeing that you came first, that you were safe, and would never have to be afraid of someone you didn’t want touching you to do it. What they were going to do, that was rape. What we did was wanted—needed—and agreed to by both of us, no matter how rough or hard I was with you, it was what we’d already talked about happening. If you’d truly wanted me to stop or not do something, all you had to do was say the word, and I would have,” I add, putting a smile on her lips.

“I never even thought of saying it. I loved everything you did, every second of it. Egged you on even,” she says with a little shrug, and I nod, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“I know, your ass was redder than your hair and you still wanted more, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I could tell from your tone that you were reaching a limit with it, and I didn’t want it to overshadow everything else happening.” Her words don’t really shock me, not with the way she continually brought the fight back into it, whether with words or actions.

“I could have handled spanking your ass a few more times far better than if you’d bit me again and tried to make me smack your pretty face harder,” I admit, grunting when she giggles. “I can’t stand the thought of anything marring it. The only marks should be from my lips or beard kissing you. From my cock making it all flushed, your lips swollen, eyes watering. Or from my cum gracing it. You can ask me to spank your ass, spank your pussy, or your tits, or even grab your throat and choke you in retaliation to a bite on the dick, but don’t ever ask me to smack you again, baby girl. I just can’t do it.”

“What if it was a smack with your dick instead of your hand?” she suggests and the twinkle in her eyes has me stealing her lips with a hard kiss of agreement. “Okay, I promise not to ask you to smack my face ever again, daddy.”

“Good girl,” I hum, nuzzling her cheek with my face. “As for what you felt after we handled Grover—that was power you were feeling. Power and reassurance. You knew that not only were you safe physically because daddy stopped him, but also that daddy would never leave you vulnerable, was there to teach you how to protect yourself, while also accepting you if you couldn’t take the final step—if you couldn’t kill unless it was the only option left. That triggered a fierce desire to be with daddy and daddy was right there with you, baby. You don’t have to worry that you’re only ever going to feel that freedom you have today if it comes from a consensual non-consent play. It wasn’t the type of play, but the space we created for you.”

“The little space?”

“You’ve been reading, haven’t you?” I tease, giving her a soft, slow kiss as she nods. “If you ever want to meet other littles, I met some daddies while trying to find the exact place that I felt most natural in the wide array that makes up the world of BDSM. I’ve kept in touch with some of them even though I didn’t have anyone I wanted as my little until I found you last year. They’re how I got everything for your room so quickly.”

“Maybe when things here are handled,” she says, her tone a bit hesitant and I lift her face to see her eyes.

“What is it? What’s worrying you about meeting others?” I ask, not wanting her to hide anything from me. “Daddy can’t always read your exact thoughts, baby girl, but daddy knows when something’s wrong, so what is it?”

“I just…don’t want anyone else seeing my daddy the way I get to see him,” she answers me, her cheeks flushed, and I smile, giving her a sweet little kiss on the nose.

“Or having them see my little girl as well, I’m guessing,” I state, and she bites her lower lip the tiniest bit telling me I’m right. “You don’t think other daddies would want you. That because most of the pictures online only show littles as skinny girls that they’d look at you the way some of the boys in school did.”

I know I’m right based on the way her eyes shutter, and I kiss her long and soft and slow until she sinks completely against me. “Oh baby girl, you’ve no idea how much some of them would want to try and steal you away from me, but I’m even more possessive over you than you might be over me, and I’d murder them if they saw you in the outfits we’ve bought for the playroom. No…no one but daddy sees you in them. If we meet up with anyone, it would be a casual non-sexual meetup. You could talk to the other girls, ask them questions if you want a woman’s opinion rather than just daddy telling you something. I might touch you under your clothes or let you touch me. I could happily fuck you in your everyday version of your little girl outfits but that’s as far as they’d ever get to see you. Does that make it a little easier to possibly agree to? Some of the others may dress in their true littles attire so you might see them have sex or doing things to their littles, but I just can’t let another man near you, especially not when you’re in your space. That’s just for daddy.”

“That makes me really happy to know daddy. I love you, daddy, so much,” she sighs, sinking further into me.

“I love you too, baby girl. Always Everly,” I promise, taking my time to wash her before we get dressed to head down to supper. I can’t let my girl miss too many lunches, not with her pregnant, because even though she hasn’t taken a test, I know she is and it’s the best way to celebrate a month with her—the absolute best.

Chapter 12

Everly

Itake a deep breath as my stomach rolls. The nausea is thankfully mild, and I haven’t done much actual throwing up, and it’s only really been noticeable the last two weeks.

It’s been two months since Tate brought me home, changing my entire life and we’re estimating I’m right about nine weeks based on my last period. We haven’t told anyone in the club just yet and haven’t been to the doctor, but that’s only because we’ve been dealing with the shitstorm that hit when Law filed the claim for inheritance two weeks ago. Since then, it’s been knocked back by both judges in town because there’s ‘no proof’ I’m the eldest blood child of the mayor. Just as we figured they would.

What we didn’t anticipate happening was my mother coming to me, asking me to drop it. I refused when it became clear that she was only concerned with her own safety. The news that two of the cops tried to rape me and that the chief of police was threatening to make me disappear to some jail or prison had no effect on her, not a flicker of remorse.

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