Page 58 of Melt For Us, Daddy
Eyes going round, Ivy sucked in a breath. “Yes, Daddy.”
She was seriously never going to get over hearing her babygirl call her that. Still gripping Ivy's ass, Cordelia pulled her closer, drew her in to capture her lips in deep, demanding kiss.
Need stirred low in her belly. And not for the first time, she considered taking her girl upstairs and letting Ivy service her the way she so desperately wanted to. The thought no longer brought with it that rush of panic it had in the early days, and if there was anyone she wanted to share that with, it was the woman on her lap.
“Cordelia? I—oh, sorry.”
Setting aside the fantasy playing out in her head, Cordelia reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, though she kept her hands firmly where they were when Ivy hissed and tried to wiggle off her lap. Looking over at the doorway to the kitchen, she swallowed a laugh at the sight of poor Jacob, his face fire-engine red as he stared up at the ceiling.
“Did you need me for something, Jacob?”
“I, ah, just wanted to apologize.”
Poor kid was still staring at the ceiling. “It’s customary to look someone in the eye when you apologize, Jacob.”
Somehow, his face managed to get even redder as he tore his gaze away from the ceiling to meet hers. “I’m sorry for what I said back there. It was rude and I… I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted. But you have every right to tell me to back off if I’m being too bossy, Jacob. I’m afraid it’s my natural state, but if it bothers you, then you should speak up.”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
Jesus, if he blushed any harder, he was likely to give himself an aneurysm. “It doesn’t?”
“No. I… kind of like it when you boss me around. But I know I shouldn’t, and it’s wrong.”
It was Ivy who pinned him with a surprisingly stern look, her tone fierce as she spoke. “What makes you think it’s wrong?”
But Cordelia didn’t even need him to say it. She knew, because she’d had those same ideals hammered into her brain from before she could even speak. “Because that’s not the natural order of things. Women are meant to submit, men are meant to be in charge. Is that right, Jacob?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, of all the bullshit, patriarchal?—”
“Ivy.” Cordelia punctuated the gentle rebuke with a squeeze of her girl’s ass. “It’s all he knows. All he has known his entire life. It’s going to take him some time to unlearn all the stuff they shoved in his head. But you’re trying, aren’t you, Jacob?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s good. That’s how you learn and grow. And just so we are crystal clear, you don’t actually want me to stop bossing you around, correct?”
She could see the struggle clear as day on his face. The same battle she’d fought herself when she’d left. The battle between what the church had taught her was right and good and holy, and what she felt, deep down in her soul.
“No, ma’am,” he finally whispered. “I don’t want you to stop.”
Good boy. The urge to praise him was a physical ache in her chest. But knowing how much she’d hurt her babygirl with that simple phrase, she held it back and nodded toward the sink. “In that case, wash your hands. You’re going to help Ivy bake some brownies.”
Ivy grinned, an unusually wicked gleam in her eye as Jacob hurried to do what he was told. “If he’s helping me, does that mean I get to be the bossy one for once?”
“Yes. But don’t let it go to your head, little girl. No matter who else you get to boss around, at the end of the day, who do you belong to?”
Twin flags of color slashed across Ivy’s cheeks at the question. “You.”
“And who am I, Ivy Mae?”
“Daddy.”
“Damn straight. Now go make Daddy some brownies.”
Rolling her eyes, Ivy slid from her lap. “Call a woman Daddy and suddenly she thinks she’s king of the world.”
