The Lawyer's Daffodil (Flower of the Month)

My mind went crazy trying to figure out how the hell to get her within my grasp and under my control. House arrest is as good as I could come up with while trying to keep my dick from jizzing circles around her. I felt her eyes on me throughout the hearing, but I also saw her sneak glances since my eyes were not away from her for longer than a few seconds.

I listen as the judge grants my request, and my body relaxes. Turning my head, I see her eyes get big as it hits her with what just happened, and I can do nothing but smile. I watch her being led to the backroom, where they will remove her cuffs and have her sign the release paperwork. I am still waiting, expecting someone to come charging in here demanding she be returned to them. What would I do if that happened? I haven’t spoken to her yet, and already every possessive instinct that has been dormant is alive and surging with new life.

“Sign here and here,” The guard says as I walk into the room. She looks up, her teeth biting her lip.

“Sign the papers, my flower, so that you can be done with this place.” The guard looks at me and then at her trying to figure out what is happening. Ha. Good luck. I don’t fucking know myself. The only thing I can comprehend right now is that I need her in my space, away from all other male eyes, until I can put my mark and scent on her. She licks her lips in nervousness, I know, but my dick jumps anyway, wanting that mouth around him.

“All done. Please hold your foot out so we can attach the device.” I have to grind my teeth and remember where I am. The guard has no idea how close he is to dying. Not only is he touching her and bent down close enough to smell her sweet innocent pussy, but he is attaching something to her body that should be reserved for criminals, not for plush princesses who should be sitting on her daddy’s lap being fed berries and dick on a daily basis. Daddy?

I stumble when the word permeates my head. My hands don’t leave the back of the chair, the fake wood being the only thing keeping me from falling on my ass at the revelation of what I just said. I look and see her eyes on me, penetrating my senses and logical brain. Yes. Yes, this is right. She is mine now. My princess. My baby girl. My little one. My daffodil. Daffodil. Even her name is perfect. It is delicate and innocent like her. It means rebirth and new beginnings. Birth. Fuck. Now all I see is her naked, walking through our home, her belly swollen and her tits leaking, leaving streams of milk all over the house like breadcrumbs for me to find her after a long day's work. I need to get my fucking P.I. on this right away. I need to figure out who thinks they have a claim on her and reassure them they no longer do. The minute she walked into that courtroom; she became mine. MINE! Now, I just need to get her to our home where I can let her in on the new reality. Ready or not, sweet flower. Here I come.

THREE

DAFFODIL

I don’t know what just happened. I didn’t have time to digest what everything was before I was sitting in this room, and now a device is being put on my ankle. I turn it left and right, trying to figure it out. “How does this work?” I ask the guard kneeling in front of me.

“Simple. It is set for my home where you now live and ensures you cannot leave without me.” Holy…his eyes are basically tearing me down with each blink, and it is making me not only itchy but squirmy. It is hurting me not to move against his gaze, but for some reason, I know if I do, it will upset him. Not sure why, but I can feel it.

“How long will I have to wear this? I really am innocent,” I tell him and anyone else who can hear me. I know they hear that all the time, but I can’t not tell them. I need someone to believe me. When I look up at him again, all the air leaves from my lungs. I am covered in an orange jumpsuit, and under his hard, heated gaze, I feel naked. I feel exposed, like I just walked out of the ocean in front of lights and cameras in the nude.

“Of that, I am sure, little flower.” I don’t think we are talking about the same thing. If his words weren’t laced with so much fire, they would have made me exhale with relief. Instead, I can feel each breath I am taking as it fans against his stare, and suddenly the room feels like I am suffocating. I make the mistake of scooting in the chair, and I watch as his nostrils flare and ice enters his eyes.