Page 25 of Daddy's Laws

Asking her would just piss her off, so he let it go and pulled his seatbelt back into place. “Let’s get home so you can get cleaned up.”

Sighing, she settled back against her seat when he released his hold on her wrist. “Yes, sir.”

He couldn’t have wiped the grin off his face if his life had depended on it as he started the car up again and pulled out onto the highway. Sir wasn’t ‘Daddy’, but it was a damn good start.

CHAPTER9

She woke achy and needy, her pussy throbbing with its demand for attention. Groaning, she rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow, willing herself back to sleep.

Last night had been… wonderful. Frustrating, but in a way she hadn’t experienced in so long she’d forgotten how much she loved it. The push and pull, the struggle to come out on top.

Bryant had won, but for once, she didn’t mind. Maybe because he hadn’t made her feel like a shitty submissive for fighting him in the first place. He’d just put her neatly in her place, and then acted like nothing had happened. They’d driven home with the music blaring, singing along with their favorite songs like she wasn’t covered in his wet, sticky cum.

The only time he’d mentioned it after that was when they’d gotten home and he’d sent her off to bed with a long, deep kiss that had made her heart do a slow roll in her chest before telling her she was allowed to clean herself up, but she was not, under any circumstances, allowed to get herself off.

She hadn’t listened, of course. The showerhead in her bathroom had simply been too tempting to resist, especially when combined with the knowledge he couldn’t hear her. But she’d fallen asleep dreaming of the punishments he might concoct for her, and she’d woken up as wet and throbbing as she had been before her illicit shower orgasms.

Flopping onto her back again, she glared up at the ceiling. When had this gotten so far out of her control? Bryant had been right about one thing, at least. Despite agreeing to obey his rules, she’d been determined to prove that she was still in control. That she could still do as she pleased, whenever she pleased, and there was nothing he could do about it.

When he’d threatened to take her home and fuck her mouth as a punishment for pouting, she’d felt that old thrill. The desire to push, to see if he followed through on his threats. But even more than that, she’d nearly salivated at the thought of having his cock in her mouth.

That was the moment she’d decided once and for all she was going to fuck Bryant Monroe.

Just as long as it was on her own terms. So she’d deliberately avoided pouting and sulking, at least when he’d been watching her. She’d obviously tipped her hand at some point, since he’d caught on. In the end, everything had still been on his terms.

And fuck if she hadn’t loved every minute of it.

But now, she was needy and horny, and the worst part was the idea of another stolen orgasm in the shower didn’t appeal. She wanted Bryant's hands on her, bringing her the pleasure she just knew he would be capable of giving her.

The question was, how to go about making that happen? She could ask, but that would be even more humiliating than the hour she’d spent with his cum decorating her décolletage as he drove the long way back to the house, at exactly the speed limit.

Throwing off the covers, she headed for the bathroom and got ready for another morning at the beach. Dressed in a vintage-inspired yellow polka dot bikini with a thin, gauzy cover up, she made her way down the stairs. No smell of bacon greeted her this time and she paused at the entrance to the kitchen.

Had he, despite his declarations to the contrary, tired of her already? Of making an effort to win her over?

Why shouldn’t he? You’ve just been fighting him the whole time.

Ignoring the nagging little voice in her head, and the pang just under her heart, she moved into the kitchen and grabbed the bowl of fruit salad he’d put together for them. Forgoing coffee for the first time in her adult life, she scooped some fruit into a smaller bowl and carried it out onto the back deck.

Which was where she found him, scowling at his laptop screen, completely oblivious to her presence.

Her heart did that same slow roll it had done the night before when he’d kissed her. God, he was beautiful. Somehow, she knew he wouldn’t approve of the sentiment, but he was. That hard, sharp jawline with a layer of stubble he didn’t normally have, those blazingly blue eyes, those rippling muscles. Everything about him was built to drive a woman wild.

It was almost humiliating how well it worked on her.

She was debating taking the seat next to him when he looked up from his computer. Was she imagining things or had there been a flash of guilt in his eyes before he sent her that slow, easy smile?

“Hey, princess. You’re up early. I figured it would be a couple more hours, so I haven’t started breakfast yet. Any requests?”

Her heart leapt at the knowledge he hadn’t simply tired of her, and she decided she must have imagined the guilty look. Holding up her bowl, she waved it at him. “I have fruit.”

“Good, you can munch on that while I cook.” Closing the lid on his laptop, he tucked it up under his arm and stood. “I think Liv picked up a waffle iron at some point. I make excellent waffles.”

He moved closer as he talked, until he was right in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. Even as tall as she was, he still towered over her, a fact that alternatively pissed her off and thrilled her.

“Um, you don’t have to. I’m good with fruit.”

The look he gave her was filled with amused exasperation. “I know I don’t have to, princess. I like to cook. And you can’t make just one waffle, so if you don’t eat one the rest will just go to waste.”

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