Daphne Vs. Daddy

“I’m just going to have to bring it up with him. Again,” I mumble into my gin and tonic.

No matter how much I didn’t want to.

163

Christine

“Home sweet home,” Anders says, opening up the door with a grand gesture in front of me.

Like Cinderella first walking into her prince’s castle, I enter slowly, my mouth agape. It was…gorgeous.

Fucking gorgeous.

Who lives like this?

Anders Trask does, apparently.

Dark woods and giant pastoral paintings and heavy curtains – it has an old-world charm to it that I hadn’t expected. And the entryway is larger than my living room.

“I had it remodeled using an old castle in France as the inspiration,” he says, coming up to me with yet another drink in hand, handing it to me as I wandered around, oohing and ahhing. I know that most people my age would probably like stainless steel and retro furnishings, but I’d always love the regal European decor.

“Come, check out my favorite feature,” he says, as excited as a little boy. He grabs my free hand and pulls me down a hallway and into a dark room. Flipping a switch, a few strategically placed lights turn on to a low glow, pointing straight at…

“Oh my god, Anders, really?” I squeal, heading straight towards the suit of armor.

“Early 1430s Italian armor,” he says proudly. “One of the oldest full sets of armor in existence.” Its dull silver glow in the dim lighting almost made it seem ethereal. I reached out and stroked the metal joints reverently.

“I love it,” I say softly. He stood behind me and pulled me tight up against him, wrapping his arms around me as I leaned into him. We stared at the suit for a long minute in silence. It just seemed to deserve that.

“Anders,” I finally say, breaking the peaceful silence between us. As much as I hate to, I have to. I just can’t live with myself if I don’t. “You’re going to be able to make a decision about the UN program even with…this,” I gesture to the air around us, “happening, right?”

He pulls me against him even tighter and begins to nuzzle my neck. “Even though,” he breathes down my neck, sending shivers down my spine, “I want to fuck you senseless,” he nips at my neck and down my shoulder, “every moment of every day,” he nips back across to the nape of my neck and down my other shoulder, “I can separate that from the UN program.

“Although,” he says in a teasing voice, pulling away from my skin and standing up straight, “I should use my power for evil.” He turns me in his arms and stares down at me with a devilish glint in his eye. “Tell you that the only way that you can get into this program is to fuck me like the little whore that you are.”

“Ohhhhh…” I breathe, staring up at him, biting my lower lip as I do. “I…well…I…” I stutter, unable to put a complete thought into words. “I would hate to lose the chance to be in the program, so if that’s what it takes…”

I know he’s teasing. I know he would never tell me something like that and mean it. But that didn’t mean it isn’t hot as fuck to hear.

“I think it’s time to put my little whore to work making me happy, don’t you?” he says, the teasing tone of voice disappearing as his commanding voice takes its place.

“Yeah, probably,” I say, staring up at him, my voice little more than a whisper.

“‘Yeah’?” he repeats. “Don’t you mean ‘Yes sir’?”

“Yes sir,” I repeat, and my thong is so wet, I’m afraid I might be creating a puddle on his floor.

He pulls back and take my drink from me, placing it on a nearby end table.

“I think it’s about time to see what kind of fucktoy you really are,” he says, and takes my hand.

164

Christine

Fucktoy, he called me, and that word is echoing inside my head like a maddening scream of pleasure. Fucktoy. I want him, I want him really bad - and I’m lucky enough for him to want me that badly as well.

Stepping toward me, there’s that wicked grin on his lips, delight and desire painting his face. He rests his big hands on my waist and, the moment he leans into me and kisses me, I close my eyes and let go.