Please, Daddy (Love, Daddy)

“What’s the surprise?” I ask, because we were in the limo earlier and there wasn’t anything in the back seat—at least that I saw.

“So impatient.”

I screw up my face and pout. “Little girls aren’t supposed to be patient.”

“True.” He gives my rear a smack as he opens the door and I crawl into the back seat, pulling my long dress around my feet and waiting for him to follow. “Come here, little one.” He pats his lap and I crawl on top as he reaches forward and raps his knuckles on the dark partition separating the driver from the back, and a second later, I feel the vehicle start moving forward.

Merrick kisses me, soft and warm, and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of his kisses.

He pulls a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his tuxedo and hands it to me. “Read it.”

I unfold the document and concentrate on the words. My so-called home schooling was a bit lacking, so sometimes I have to go slow and sound out bigger words, and other times, I have to ask Merrick what they mean or how to pronounce them. He’s going to help me. He will teach me everything I’ve missed and maybe I can get extra credit if I’m a very good student…

But this time, reading the piece of paper I don’t need any help.

“Is this? A building? On Main Street…you bought a building?”

“It’s your wedding present, baby. For your dance studio. You can name it whatever you like. I’ll help you with the business, all you have to do is dance and teach and have fun. We’ll put in mirrors and a wood floor and decorate it however you like. Summer already said she’ll help too. You’re in charge, I’ll just be there to help and support you. And pay the bills.”

“Oh my God.” I stare at the deed.

“I’ll be in charge?” The words hang between us. I’ve never been in charge of my own life before.

“Yep. Well, we will still have our rules.” He leans down and kisses my nose, then runs his hand up my leg under the fabric of my dress until his fingers brush against my bare pussy. “No panties unless Daddy says so.” He rumbles into my ear and I’m immediately soaking wet.

“It’s the best present ever. Now, can I give you a present?”

“Of course. What do you have for me?”

“Well, it’s not something in a box or something that costs money.”

“Okay.”

I wiggle off his lap, kneeling down in front of him on the floor of the limo, hiking my dress up toward my hips, my palms facing up on the tops of my thighs, just like he’s trained me.

My mouth waters as I see the long hard outline of his cock behind the black fabric. “Please, Daddy. I want to give your cock special kisses. The way you taught me.”

His eyes blaze as he groans, his hands already on his belt as he frees his erection, rock hard and dripping as I smile and crinkle my nose. He raises his hips, pulling his trousers and boxers to his knees.

“Since you said please…” he answers, guttural and strained.

He reaches forward, grabbing the back of my hair and pulling my face into his scrotum.

“Balls first, baby. Take good care of your Daddy, he loves you more than words can say.”

He groans as I run the flat of my tongue over the thick skin, looking up to see him close his eyes and lay his head back onto the seat.

“That’s my girl. Get that special spot just behind Daddy’s balls…”

He grips my hair tighter, pressing me into him, the musky, masculine scent filling my nose as I lick and suck, gently and carefully. After a minute, I pull back as he looks down.

“Is this right, Daddy?”

“You’re doing a great job, little one. Keep going and I’m going to give you your special prize.”

“Daddy cream?”

“Yes, baby. Now show me what that mouth is made for.”

He grunts as I wrap my mouth around the tip and glide the head between my lips.

“Good girl,” he grits out. “My baby, my love, my little girl, my wife…my everything.”

He releases my hair, spreading his arms wide on the top of the seat, sinking down and letting me give him my all.

Because I know my Daddy will always give me his.

Chapter 15

Merrick

Epilogue 5 years later

“Baby?” I’ve searched the house and the deck but there’s no sign of Kezia.

She’s usually sitting out front, weather permitting, waiting for me to get off my shift, usually tackling me with a hug as the kids join in.

We have three and one on the way. Two older boys, Jameson, four, and Gordon, three. Melanie is our youngest at eighteen months and number four is going to be a surprise.

I look at the kitchen table and there sits her cell. I pick it up and, as usual, it’s dead.