Do Me a Favor

No one has ever believed me before. Not the nurses or psychologists at the facility. They just wanted to hand me pills to dull the rage and get rid of me. They wanted to stuff me into a box marked with my diagnosis and leave me there.

Violent offender.

Eventually part of me started to believe them, as well. Maybe I am a monster. Maybe I’m better off locked up. Away from the world.

This ballerina and her gentle touch are ruining me, though. Taking every truth I’ve ever been told about women and flipping them on their head. Years and years of my brother railing about the deceitfulness of women, followed by the trial, have left me hateful of the opposite sex, but I can’t hate this one. I can’t for the life of me do anything but cup her sweet ass in my hands and lift her off the floor, shocked when her thighs wrap around me, her warm breath pelting my lips. She cradles my face in her hands and searches my eyes, nodding, as if to let me know she sees more inside me than anyone else.

Oh God. My heart is trapped between my ribs.

I feel almost dizzy under the onslaught of need for her. Appreciation. For Posy.

My Posy.

“I didn’t hurt anyone,” I wheeze.

“I know,” she whispers, nuzzling her nose against mine.

Euphoria steals downward from the crown of my head to my toes. I shudder, a hoarse sound ripping up my throat. My body and mind are at war. My mind wants to cherish this little ballerina. Worship her for having faith in me, even though I’ve done nothing to deserve it. But my body, my cock, wants her legs spread open, her nails raking down my fucking back.

“I’m scared about what I’m going to do to you.”

“I’m not.”

“You should be!” I shout against her mouth. The flash of apprehension in her eyes causes some of my urgency to retreat. I’d kill a man for scaring her. Even myself. Be gentle, you bastard. “I don’t want you around my brother anymore.”

She tilts her head. “Why?”

There is a reason. A good one. But my mind won’t produce it. I shake my head in frustration, trying to unearth the dark spot that lingers there when it comes to Baker. He visited me at the institution. Brought my groceries. Tried to make the girls see reason and stop accusing me. My father was equally disgusted by women, by everyone, really, and always said I can only trust my brother in this world. And now, he has brought me this angel. My Posy.

All I have is instinct telling me there is something I’m missing when it comes to Baker.

“I don’t know,” I rasp. “I just don’t want you around him, Posy, please.”

“We don’t have to solve anything right now.” She strokes the sides of my face, so gently, so sweet. I rock her side to side, an innocent gesture that clashes with the horniness. The way I’m feeling her up with eager hands. I knead her butt and grope her thighs through the thin tights. I yank her leotard top back down and shake her, bounce her up and down, just so I can watch her perky little titties bounce. She bites her lip and lets me do it, lets me play with her like a fucking toy, and God help me, she even seems to enjoy it.

When her liquid warmth begins to seep through the fly of my jeans, my knees practically buckle. Holding her tight, I fall forward onto the mattress, pressing down on top of her with those pretty fucking legs wrapped around my hips, her silky ballet slippers digging into my ass.

“Do you like being Daddy’s baby doll, Posy?”

Her breath catches, green eyes blinking rapidly. “Did you say…D-Daddy?

Did I? Yeah. I can’t explain why. Only that… “I don’t know, it feels right for us.” I bury my face in her neck, laving her pulse with my tongue. “If you don’t like it, I can stop.”

But God, I don’t want to.

I want to protect her. Care for her. I want to be the man she comes to when there’s a problem. I want to fuck her and be her father figure at the same time. If that’s wrong, I don’t know what the hell to do about it. “I never met my parents,” she says quietly, in between gasps, because I’m rolling her hard nipples in my palms now, teasing them with the pad of my thumb.

Looking her in the eye, I lean down and lick over the peak of her breast. “You’ve got your Daddy right here, if you want him.” I buck hard with my hips and clamp my teeth around her nipple, making her cry out. “Are you my little girl?”

“Yes,” she chokes out, her back arching, bringing her hot, jiggly tits closer to my mouth. As if begging for more. “Yes, yes, I am. I am. I am.”

I’ve never known triumph like this. Not in my twenty-seven years on this earth. Having permission to conquer makes me want to worship her, instead, and it’s so confusing that I think I might end up mauling her if I’m not careful. “Nothing is off limits to me. That’s what it means.”

“Nothing,” she gasps.

Something occurs to me. Something important. I should have asked before now but I’ve been overcome by the presence of her. The perfection. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”