Page 14 of XOXO, Daddy
“I don’t—”
“Try for Daddy?” My eyes shot to his, my jaw hung open slack. Certainly he didn’t just.
“Please, Bunny?” His voice changed, the dark timbre turning teasing, almost playful, leaving me a befuddled mess. A befuddled mess with wet panties.
“I’m sorry, but —” I stopped short, standing up, pacing the room back and forth as I struggled to truly comprehend what was happening.
“But what, Bunny?”
“Stop calling me that!”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t think when you do!”
“What if I want that?”
“What?”
“What if I want you to stop thinking? To let go? Perhaps to even feel… little?” He suggested. My pacing stopped. My eyes stayed glued to the floor, unable to look up at him for fear that I was reading this situation all wrong.
“Adam,” I whispered. It almost hurt to breathe. I wanted to be right so badly.
“Bunny,” he responded, with far too much charisma. It was intoxicating, this pull he had over me.
“Adam,” I started again, taking a deep breath and turning to him. With shoulders squared and eyes narrowed, I gathered upall my courage. “Adam, for the rest of this discussion, please call me Willow. I can’t think when you call me Bunny, and I have to make sure I understand what you’re saying.”
“What is it you think I’m saying, Willow?” His acknowledgment of my request had me feeling a touch more at ease and in control.
“I think…” I trailed off, my heart thundering in my chest. “I think you’re saying that it doesn’t bother you.”
“Thatwhatdoesn’t bother me?” He asked, nudging me closer to admitting the truth we both knew, but I was still uneasy about trusting. Standing from his perch on the desk, he came around to face me. He stood so close to me, each breath I took had my nipples just barely grazing his stomach. He really was so tall compared to me.
“That my being little doesn’t bother you,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat as his fingers trailed over my cheek, following the line of my jaw until he pressed lightly against my chin, lifting my eyes to his.
“What else?” There was no room for misunderstanding in his voice. It was a command, even if a subtle one.
“It doesn’t bother you that—” My voice broke on a whimper as his thumb brushed softly over my lower lip. Barely able to resist the urge to let my eyelids fall closed and tip my head back in utter acceptance, I held his gaze.
“Finish your sentence, Willow,” he commanded softly, that thumb of his still toying with my lower lip. Jeepers, I wanted so badly to just suck that thumb into my mouth.
“Th…that it doesn’t bother you that I’m a little,” I barely finished. His other hand moved over my hip, wrapping around to the small of my back, his fingers toying lightly along my lower spine.
“Try again,” hetskedlightly. I could hear the smirk in his voice, even as my vision grew hazy with the desire that was taking hold of me.
“Huh?” I could barely understand what was happening outside of his face lowering, the scruff of his salt and pepper beard rubbing against my cheek as his mouth neared my ear.
“Try. Again. That it doesn’t bother me…” he prompted, his voice soft and deep against the shell of my ear, making me shiver.
I let out the softest gasp, shivers of desire running up and down my spine, from the sound of his voice against my ear to his fingers playing at the base of my spine and back up again.
“That it doesn’t bother you that I’m… me.”
“Keep going,” he whispered. The feel of his lips against my neck was bliss. My head fell back, my body arching into him as he pressed against my lower back lightly, pulling me closer.
“That you don’t care that I’m Willow.”
“Don’t stop.”
