Page 5 of Bound to the Daddy

If he’d lived here with me, there’d be a far different outcome. Now, he’s this self-entitled little brat who’s one wrong move from being disowned. And it fucking hurts that it’s ended up this way.

Instead of being able to bond with my son and raise him properly, I’m stuck with some nepo baby who refuses to grow up. Unfortunately, it’s far too late to just kick him out of the nest. It won’t do any good.

Not that I can fully justify such extreme actions, anyway. He’s my only son, a Rothsbourne. Without an heir to take his place, a legitimate heir the Governing Body will recognize, my legacy ends with him—a painful reminder of my past and pathetic hope for the future.

Soft tears catch my attention, drawing me back to the present. Whether or not my son is who I want to be my current heir, makes no difference in the here and now. Stephanie shudders in my arms, tugging at my heartstrings.

The jackass doesn’t seem to realize what he has. Perhaps I should do something about it. He’s obviously incapable of giving her what she really needs.

Thoughts and plans formulate in my head as I look at Stephanie. There’s a vulnerability there, a tenderness that calls to the Daddy in me to protect and possess her.

My cock twitches with each teary hiccup. How beautiful would she be sobbing at my feet with a blazing red bottom and a well-fucked pussy? I know her well enough to know she’ll earn her share of discipline.

She’s just as stubborn as my son. Unlike my son, she’s still moldable, malleable, able to possibly see reason. If she were mine, I’d be able to change that stubbornness, guide her, and fashion her into her best self. My balls tighten and clench as I breathe in the scent of her misery.

Just a few changes here and there, the shuffling of pieces on a chessboard, and she’ll be mine. Once she realizes she has no other options, she’ll come crawling to me and my exacting dominance. After a few minutes, I pull her back and grab a handkerchief from my pocket to dab her eyes.

“Sorry,” she mutters. “It’s just been a hard week. But don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.”

“Are you always so stubborn?”

This gets a small smile out of her. “Haven’t I always been?”

“I’m too old to remember.”

Her sharp bark of laughter at my joke causes my balls to clench even more until it’s at the point of pain. She lays her hand on my arm, not even thinking about the effect it might have on me. And why would she? I’m her boyfriend’s dad. I’m not supposed to have these lustful thoughts about her.

“You’re like what, Sixty? Seventy?” she teases.

“Thirty-eight,” I respond, my tone dry. “Don’t make me some ancient, decrepit man.”

“I keep forgetting you had Brody when you were my age.”

“Younger, actually. But I don’t want to dredge up the past.” Talking about my son to the woman I want to fuck just feels wrong. “I want to focus on the present. Let my mechanic take a look at your car.”

She glances over at the clock and gasps. “Oh God. I didn’t realize how late it was. I won’t have time. I’m just barely able to get home to shower.”

“Shower here. There’s no sense in going all the way back downtown in this traffic. And in the meantime, I’ll have my guy look at your car.”

Her gaze drifts from me to the screen and back again. Anxiety rolls off of her so thick it churns my stomach. “Please. It would just be easier to shower at home.”

As she steps past me, I grab her arm and stop her in her tracks. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I... It’s... Look. It’s just too embarrassing. Okay?”

Crossing my arms, I give her a soft glare. “You got your period while playing video games with Brody. You stained my white duvet. I’m sure nothing can be quite as embarrassing as that.”

Her face blanches as she nearly tips forward. I do so love seeing her off kilter. It might be a touch cruel of me to remind her of such a humiliating memory, but the reality is she can’t possibly top it. Nothing she can say to me can be any worse than that.

“You really had to bring that back up? I was hoping you’d forget.”

“Again, I’m not so far gone and decrepit to remember things that cause you distress. Either mental or physical. So what is it? Is my guest house not good enough for you?”

“No, no!” She quickly cries out. “It’s not that at all. I just... I don’t know if I can shower here with you.”

My cock lurches at the vulnerability shining in her eyes. “Well, I wasn’t asking to join you,” I grind out, doing my absolute best to keep my arousal in check.

“I know that. I just... It’s just...” Again, her face goes crimson as a hint of desperation wafts on the air.

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