007
1160 Words
LENA
She muttered something under her breath, irritation and jealousy lacing her words, then turned and left, the front door clicking softly behind her.
Silence fell instantly.
I pressed my palms flat against the counter, trying to steady myself, but every nerve in my body was on fire. His eyes remained on me, dark, smoldering, dangerous.
The second she disappeared, it was as if a switch flipped.
He stepped back closer, slowly, closing the space between us. My shorts, pulled down tight, did nothing to hide the wet heat pooling between my thighs. His fingers trailed lightly over my arm as he leaned against the counter, brushing just enough to make me tremble.
“You’re quiet,” he murmured, voice low. “Very quiet. I like it when you tell me what you want.”
I swallowed, shaking my head. “I—I don’t know what you want,” I stammered, voice small.
His lips curved into a smirk, and suddenly his hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing over my lower lip. “Since your dad isn’t around…” His voice dipped lower, and I felt it in my bones, “…you call me Daddy from now on.”
Heat exploded in me. My brain screamed to resist. No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. But my lips parted almost involuntarily.
“M-Mark…” I whispered, hesitant, unsure, trying to hide the trembling in my voice.
He chuckled, low and satisfied, and the sound vibrated through me. “Shh.” His hand moved down, tracing the line of my jaw to my collarbone, pressing just enough to make my pulse spike.
“Say it. Let me hear you.”
“I… I…” My voice faltered. The words wouldn’t come. My body betrayed me, leaning forward even as my mind fought.
“Good girl,” he breathed, capturing my wrist and tugging me gently yet firmly toward him. Before I could react, his strong hands lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the counter.
The sudden weight, the closeness, the heat of his body pressed to mine—it stole my breath. My knees bent instinctively, heels barely grazing the edge of the counter.
“You’re mine now,” he whispered, eyes locked on mine. “Don’t fight me. Just… feel.”
I bit my lip, trying to pull away, trying to regain control, but it was useless. His thumb traced circles over my hip through the thin fabric of my shorts. Every nerve, every sensitive patch of skin was lit on fire. I arched instinctively, needing, desperate.
“Good girl,” he repeated, fingers pressing lightly over my inner thigh, testing, teasing, letting me squirm beneath him. “That’s it. That’s exactly what I want.”
I tried to speak, tried to tell him to stop, but my voice caught in my throat. “M-Mark… please—”
He silenced me with a finger over my lips. “No words yet. Just feel. You’ll speak when I let you.”
My heart pounded. The sound of the ice in my glass clinking as I grabbed it was deafening. My fingers dug into the counter edge, gripping hard. My hips pressed upward against his hand without thinking, a need I couldn’t control.
His hand slid higher, brushing over the inside of my thigh again, so delicate yet deliberate, teasing, letting me know he could push further but didn’t. “Such a good girl,” he whispered, lips brushing my ear. “So eager, so ready. I can feel you for me already.”
I shivered, helpless, wet, trembling. My shorts did nothing to hide the obvious dampness.
“You can drink,” he said suddenly, stepping back just enough to give me the glass. “But only if I let you.”
I gulped the water, hands still shaking, feeling his eyes roaming over me. Every inch of my body burned from his presence, every nerve alive.
“Tell me,” he said softly, voice low and commanding. “Once again, do you remember the note I left for you?”
I froze, heart hammering. “I… I—”
He leaned in, brushing his fingers lightly down my arm to my hip, deliberately grazing the thin shorts at the top of my thigh. “Don’t play dumb with me,” he whispered. “You read it. You remember.”
“Yes,” I admitted, barely audible, cheeks flaming.
His smirk deepened, and I felt the weight of his gaze like a hand pressing into my skin.
“Good girl. That’s what I like to hear. But words aren’t enough, are they? You need to feel it. You need me.”
I gasped as his fingers pressed just above the fabric, sliding tantalizingly close, teasing, cruel, making me tremble. “M-Mark… please—”
“Shh,” he whispered, lips grazing my ear, breath hot. “You’ll get what you deserve. Just… wait for me.”
My knees threatened to buckle again. I leaned into the counter for support, fingers digging into the edge, every inch of me alive.
He stepped back slightly, his eyes sweeping over me, surveying, testing. Then, with deliberate slowness, he moved closer, brushing my shoulders with his hands, tilting my head back to look at him. “Call me Daddy, Lena. Say it.”
I tried to resist, tried to keep my voice from trembling. “I… I can’t—”
“Shh.” His hand cupped my jaw, tilting my face up, thumb brushing over my lips. “Yes, you can. Yes, you will. I’m in charge now.”
“I… Daddy…” The word stumbled out, weak, but it made him smirk. A satisfied curl of his lips that made my stomach drop.
“That’s it,” he whispered, fingers brushing down my shoulder to my arm, tracing the skin beneath my hoodie. “Such a good girl.”
He lifted me again, this time more firmly, placing me squarely on the counter, pressing his body close. I let out a small, helpless moan. My hands flew to his chest, but he didn’t let me pull away.
“Eyes on me,” he murmured. “Always. Don’t look away.”
I obeyed, body trembling, thighs pressed together desperately, aware of how wet I was, aware that every brush of his hand could make me collapse right here.
“You like being told what to do, don’t you?” he said softly, voice low, dangerous. “You love it. You need it. Admit it.”
“Yes… I—I do,” I stammered, voice breaking.
His smirk widened. “That’s my girl.”
Every inch of me was alive, every nerve raw, every thought consumed by him. I was burning, desperate, trembling, and he knew it, testing the limits, teasing, commanding.
He finally leaned closer, sliding a hand over my thigh as he tucked my hair behind my ear with the other, and then whispered…
- Writer
