Page 25 of Hero Daddy

"My brave girl," he murmured, the possessive sending a shiver down my spine. "Do you know how much courage it takes to face yourself like this? To speak your truth out loud?"

The praise washed over me, warm and sweet as honey, loosening something tight and painful in my chest that had been clenched for as long as I could remember. His thumbs continued their gentle path across my cheeks, each touch both soothing and electric.

"I don't know exactly what I am," I admitted, leaning slightly into his touch. "If I'm a Little or just . . . someone who responds to certain kinds of care. I'm still figuring it out."

Chad's eyes held mine, the gray depths filled with a fierce, protective tenderness that made my knees weak. "We can figure it out together," he said, the simple words carrying the weight of a promise. "Slowly. At your pace." His thumbs traced the curve of my cheekbones, memorizing my face through touch. "But I need you to be certain about this first step, Daliah. About what it means to call me that name."

I knew what he was asking. The research had made it clear that using the term "Daddy" wasn't casual—it was an acknowledgment of the dynamic, an invitation to the specific kind of connection it represented. A power exchange based on trust and care, on his guidance and my surrender to it.

"I'm sure," I said, the words barely audible but steady. "I want to understand this part of myself. With you."

The look in his eyes was a potent mix of raw emotion—surprise, relief, and something darker, hungrier. His hands still cradled my face, his touch both reverent and possessive.

"Say it again," he whispered, his voice deeper now, commanding yet gentle. "Look at me and say it again, knowing what it means."

I met his gaze directly, no longer hiding from what I'd discovered in myself or what I saw reflected in him. "I want to explore this with you . . . Daddy."

And then, he kissed me.

It wasn't a tentative kiss, not a gentle question or a cautious exploration. It was a claiming—deep and sure and absolute. His lips captured mine with confident precision, not asking permission but assuming rightful ownership. One hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, cradling my head as he tilted it to deepen the contact.

I gasped against his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss. My hands found his chest, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his Henley, feeling the solid wall of muscle beneath. The contrast was intoxicating—his unyielding strength and the careful restraint with which he wielded it, holding me like I was precious but never fragile.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to let me breathe, his eyes had darkened to storm-cloud gray, intense and focused entirely on me. His hand remained tangled in my hair, keeping me close, while the other moved to the small of my back, strong fingers splayed possessively across my spine.

"Do you feel that?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through me where our bodies pressed together. "The rightness of this?"

I nodded, unable to find words for the sense of belonging that had swept through me at his touch. It wasn't just physical attraction, though that was undeniably present. It was deeper—a recognition of matching pieces, of complementary needs and strengths.

"We'll take this slowly," he said, the words both promise and warning. "Learn each other properly. Establish boundaries, expectations, what works for both of us." His fingers tightened slightly in my hair, not painful but reminding me of his control."But make no mistake, Little One. Now that I know this part of you exists, now that you've given me permission to care for you in this way, I will do so completely."

"Yes," I whispered, the single word containing volumes of consent and desire and relief.

Chad's answering smile transformed his face, softening the hard planes while somehow making him seem even more powerful. "We have much to discuss," he said, stroking my hair gently. "Limits. Expectations. How this fits with your training. But not all at once." His thumb traced my lower lip, still sensitive from his kiss. "It's a journey, not a destination."

I leaned into his touch, into the safety and structure he represented. The future stretched before us, unknown but suddenly full of possibility—a path to understanding myself I'd never known existed until he showed me.

"I'm ready," I said, and for the first time in my life, I truly meant it.

Chapter 5

Thenextmorning,theworld felt like a brand new place.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling, my rumpled sheets twisted around my legs. I'd fallen asleep replaying every moment of our encounter, analyzing every word, every touch. Now those memories flooded back with vivid clarity.

The way his eyes had widened when I'd spoken that word.

The deliberate steps he'd taken to close the distance between us.

His hands cradling my face like I was something precious.

That kiss—God, that kiss—deep and certain and possessive.

A tremor ran through me, settling low in my belly. No one had ever kissed me like that before. Like they knew exactly who I was and wanted every part of me anyway. Not despite my flaws or my softness or my unexpected desires, but because of them.

"We'll take this slowly," he'd said, his fingers tangled in my hair. "Learn each other properly."

But there had been nothing slow about the hunger in his eyes, the tightly leashed power in his touch.

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