Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
When I’d first left home, I tried cleaning houses, but truth was I was horrible. I’m messy by nature, it’s in my DNA I’m sure. But my customers found their plants and gardens flourishing, so I switched my tactic and became a plant whisperer.
That was actually the ad I placed on Craigslist and on some flyers I printed. Before long, I had a handful of clients and was able to pay my modest bills while doing something I loved. Since I only accepted cash payments, it limited the number of customers that would trust me, so I barely scraped by every month. But it was better than going home.
When I’d arrived back at my tiny apartment that day and found it packed up and empty with Stas standing there telling me I didn’t live there anymore, half of me nearly cried with joy and the other half was insulted.
I’d fought for my independence and even though in my heart I knew I loved him, I was scared. I mean, it all screamed “danger, Will Robinson”, right? So I fought him good and hard until he picked me up and carried me to the car.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go with him. In my heart and soul I did. I valued the fact that I didn’t need anyone anymore. The irony is, now I need him like I need each and every breath. He’s shown me the little girl inside that I pushed away for so long who needs her Daddy.
Even though he moved me into his home, he never rushed our sex. In fact, he was painfully patient. I was the one pushing him for more within a week or so and he would drive me crazy holding back.
He started by eating my pussy for hours on end. Using his fingers and mouth on me like a master painting a masterpiece.
But for his pleasure? He was in acutely frustrating control. I watched his erection from behind the fabric of his trousers for nearly a month before he finally took my virginity. And I must admit, that hurt like heck. Because he’s a monster down there.
I can say, since then he’s made up for lost time. He took care of me those first weeks, trained me to orgasm for him at a single word or look, which I didn’t think could ever happen.
But it can. And it did.
Once, in the first weeks we were together, I faked an orgasm. I’m not sure how Daddy knew but he did. He stopped what we were doing, it was his mouth on me at that time and I had already cum about a gazillion times, but I knew he wanted more.
I thought I was doing the right thing. I was spent, my body aching. So, I faked it.
Wrong answer.
I won’t go into the details of what happened next, but I will say this: I was so sorry and ashamed after we were done. It hurt him deeply and he explained to me that my pleasure is his joy and our truth, and if we can’t trust each other with those most important moments in our lives, what trust will we have?
Enter Rule number two. Never lie to Daddy.
I just don’t know that much about him. Outside of this house, outside of our relationship, I know next to nothing. The only person that’s a common factor between this and his other life is George, and he’s every bit as secretive. All I know is that when we are together, I’m more joyful than I thought possible and everything feels perfect.
The man, the Daddy, the protector, the friend, the lover…he’s everything. And when I think of not having him, I can barely breathe. We fit in ways I never imagined. Not that I’ve had any real-life experience with relationships outside of a school dance with Dylan Cheney in my Junior year.
The only thing I keep thinking is I’m either the luckiest or the stupidest girl in the world.
3
Stas
“Just pack your shit and get over there. You said you’re just about finished.” I run my palm around the leather steering wheel as I take a left toward the private airport where my flight is waiting. The sun is just coming up, the hour drive to the airport taking the last of the night from the sky.
“Don’t be a dick.” George snaps. “Rushing me isn’t going to make me go any faster. How long will you be gone?” His voice sounds hollow, echoing in the empty space of the warehouse where he answered my call. He still has more than a hint of an accent, a reminder that he hasn’t lived in this country his whole life the way I have.
He’s finishing a job, cleaning up someone else’s mess, and thank goodness he’s available to go stay with Ginger.