Page 117 of Big Daddy Christmas
And then, finally, her soft “Yes, Daddy.”
That clawing beast inside his chest immediately calmed at her words, though it was still there, prowling inside him, waiting for another chance to pounce. “Good girl. Now, what color are you?”
“Green, Sir.”
“And what color do you use to let me know something is wrong or you need me to stop?”
“Red?”
“Very good girl. Let’s get the rest of these clothes off you so Daddy can eat that pretty pussy until you scream.”
Aria
* * *
Good girl.
She was pretty sure those words were going to be imprinted on her very soul by the time he was through with her. And she wasn’t entirely certain how she felt about it.
Never give a man control over you. When he’s done with you he’ll just toss you aside like yesterday’s trash.
Her mother’s voice played over in her mind, old tapes she knew weren’t entirely true and yet she couldn’t seem to turn them off.
But this was different, wasn’t it? She wasn’t handing her entire life over to him. Only her body, and only for tonight. Then she’d go back to being the badass feminist her mother had raised her to be, bowing to no man.
Ignoring those tapes playing in her mind, she closed her eyes and simply let herself feel as he traced his lips over her shoulder again, down her spine while his clever fingers went to work on her bra. And then that little bit of protection fell away, leaving her clad in nothing but the cute panties Lottie had given her, even though she hadn’t technically been a bridesmaid.
Rough hands landed on her shoulders, surprising her. To look at him, you’d expect a man who never left his office, never so much as picked up anything heavier than the pen he used to sign his checks. But his palms were rough, calloused in a way that spoke of a man who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.
The contrast of it fascinated her, made her wonder who he really was behind the pretend name he’d given her. Master O. Was O an initial? Or did it really stand for something ridiculous like Master of Orgasms?
“You’re thinking too hard,” he murmured in her ear as he turned her to face him.
“What makes you say that?”
“Your shoulders tensed up.” A smile curved his lips, sending her heart tripping against her ribs as the gesture transformed him from good-looking to devastatingly gorgeous. “And there’s this little crease here, right between your brows.” He rubbed his thumb over the spot in question, and she immediately felt herself relax, felt some of the tension drain from her body. “What color are you, princess?”
Again with the damn colors, when all she wanted was for him to get on with things. To show her everything she’d been missing out on while she busted her ass in school to graduate a whole semester early and with honors. “Green, Sir.”
“Nothing worrying you that I should know about?”
Definitely not. Her issues with her mother had nothing to do with him or what they were doing in this room. “No, Daddy.”
An emotion she didn’t recognize flashed in his eyes at the use of his title. “Good girl. Take your panties off and hand them to me.”
Right. Panties off so he could eat her out, like he’d promised.
But she couldn’t move. Frozen in place, she tried to will her hands to move to her panties, to pull them down, to hand them to him as he’d asked.
No. Not asked. Commanded.
Was that why she couldn’t do it? Because the part of her programming that was so dead set against being controlled couldn’t, wouldn’t bend to the part of her that wanted so desperately to be a good girl?
To be his good girl?
When she didn’t immediately move to do as he’d asked, he raised a dark brow, and everything inside her quaked. “Is something wrong, princess?”
“I–I don’t know. I’m not being a brat, it's just, it’s harder than I expected it to be.”
