5. Kadence

A storm is raginginside me. A hurricane, even. But on the surface, my waters are smooth. Calm. Perfect.

I almost feel like I'm on the outside looking over myself as McKenna drapes his larger body over mine, panting, both our clothes damp, lubricant and semen dripping and drying all over the place.

When I'd come slinking up to him, fluttering my eyelashes, I was half convinced he was going to shoo me away. If not, I thought maybe he might take me to a private corner and fondle me up a little. Perhaps ask for a blow job.

Never in a million years did I truly believe he'd bend me over and fuck me in front of a room full of people like a rabid beast.

It was absolutely delicious.

God, it was almost too good. I forgot who I am, what I'm trying to achieve.

If only I'd had someone taking pictures. I doubt there would be an easy way to deny what just happened to the press. As it was…that was only between us. And a room full of kinksters, yes. But I'm not sure how I feel. I enjoyed it. I can't deny that. But…

But nothing. This is a long game. I've had plenty of good sex devoid of feelings. This man's son being a case in point. That trouble started outside the bedroom. Just because the chemistry between Daddy McKenna and me was immediately off the charts doesn't change my goal. In fact, I should view this as a delightful bonus on my quest for justice. Like dental care as part of your health insurance.

Lucky me.

"Are you still a doll?" McKenna murmurs against my ear. He's still inside me, his hand still cupping my spent cock. He caresses the backs of his clean fingers against my cheek.

"I'm always a doll, Daddy," I say cheekily. "But I was done being in doll mode unless you want to keep playing."

His breath is warm on my neck as he nuzzles his nose against my damp hair. He inhales deeply and hums. "I think I want you to be a boy again. If that's how this works."

"It can be whatever you want," I assure him.

"I like you talking," he says. I feel his words reverberating from his chest against my back. "But stay still for me, Kiki. Don't move until I say."

I hum in response, indicating that I'll do as he's asked.

There's movement all around the room. Quiet music is playing, and people are talking and making sensual noises. We're no longer the center of attention. I still can't believe that Daddy McKenna willingly did that. Perhaps my honey trap isn't going to be so difficult to set, after all.

Gently he eases out of me. I don't look around, staying still like he asked. I'm not quite in doll mode anymore. The head space has shifted, and I've lost that dreamy, floaty feeling. I'm surprised how well he was able to take me there for his first time. But it's easy for me to lock my muscles and play the part. Sometimes it's actually a struggle to become inanimate. That can either be frustrating or part of the fun depending on who I'm with. But right now, I just lock my limbs and let my gaze settle in the middle distance.

I'm not sure what I'm expecting. I think I feel him rearranging himself behind me, and most likely hear the chink of his metal belt buckle. It's a bit difficult to be sure with all the other movements and noises around me. Someone I don't know strokes my hair as they walk past me. I like that.

What I thought he'd do was maybe give me a rimming. Some guys like admiring their handiwork up close and personal afterward. And I know he's approaching fifty, so therefore unlikely to get it up again anytime soon. But the other thing I thought he might do while my body was still his to control was perhaps settle back in his armchair and get me to warm his cock until he was ready to fuck my face.

When the slightly cold baby wipe slides along my crack, it takes everything I've got to not jump a foot in the air.

"Good doll," he says warmly as he cleans me up. He mops up around my cock and slips me back into my underwear. Then he gently pulls my dress and robe back down before running his hand lightly along my back, over my ass, and down the back of my thigh.

My chest tightens. What's he doing? He's a bastard with a bastard son. He's not supposed to be tender.

I'm so shocked that I'm not aware as he moves around me until he wraps his hand around my elbow and helps me stand. I'm ashamed to say that I wobble a little on my three-inch heels, but he's right there, still gripping my arm to make sure I don't fall.

This is the first time we've stood next to each other. I'm slightly taller thanks to my shoes, but he doesn't seem bothered. In fact, he's still radiating that Daddy Dom confidence that I was drawn to in the first place.

"Come sit with me some more," he says, stepping back toward the armchair that respectfully no one took while he was otherwise occupied. His fingers are still strong against my elbow, so I naturally follow his lead.

But my heart is beating faster, and a feeling like panic is prickling over my skin. My instinct is screaming at me that this is enough, even though I'm not sure why. My plan is working even better than I'd hoped. Yet something in me is saying I need to quit while I'm ahead.

"Sorry, Daddy," I say, resisting his pull just a fraction. It's remarkable how he stops tugging me right away. I bat my eyelashes and go for my signature cute-but-bratty attitude. "Kiki-rella has to leave before midnight, I'm afraid."

He raises his eyebrows. "I don't want you to leave."

It's interesting that he doesn't say it in a threatening way. Actually, his disappointment is flattering. Or it would be if I was genuinely interested in him. All it really means is that I've done a good job seducing him, and I feel a savage rush of satisfaction.

I pout and tap his nose. "Sorry, Daddy," I say again. "I had fun, though."

Now, this is where I need to gamble. I have to make him think this is his idea. Time to see if I've done enough to have him craving another round. For whatever reason, I know I need to leave. It's probably because I know if I give him too much now, that'll be it forever. No chance to take photos and enact my revenge. So I slip out of his grasp, pick my purse up off the floor where I left it, and begin to walk away, swishing my robe, knowing his eyes will be on my bare ass which is concealing my throbbing, well-fucked hole.

Three…two…

"Wait!"

I take a breath and school my features before peeking back over my shoulder. He's got his hands in his pockets and his eyes are narrowed at me. There are a few feet between us, but the other patrons seem to sense not to walk between us as we stare at one another.

"Do you really have to go?" he asks eventually.

"Yes," I say simply.

It's a good thing that I don't owe him an explanation, because I can't really give him one. I'm not entirely sure myself. I'd planned on staying at the party for several hours. I could go and make him jealous with some other guy or guys. But honestly, all I want right now is to get in my car and head home.

I respect the fact that he doesn't ask me why. He just tilts his head and licks his lips, his gaze boring into me. Needless to say, his pants are back on and he's looking dignified again in his fancy suit. I love that he fucked me in that. He didn't even take his jacket off. The man radiates power, and I've got him looking at me with confusion and uncertainty.

It's intoxicating.

He seems to be wrestling with himself, but finally, he speaks. "Can I see you again?"

My heart leaps. Yes! My plan is working! I'm far too much of a pro to show anything on my face that I don't want to, but I do grace him with just a twitch of a smile.

"Maybe," I say. "Are you local?"

"Yes," he says.

Smart. I might have got him punch drunk on me, but he's not so stupid as to blurt out his address in the open. The thing is, I know he's based in Albertson, which is the next big town over from Paddle Creek. But he doesn't know that I know that.

"Are you going to spoil me?" I ask, fluttering my eyelashes and taking a step closer to him. I clutch my fluffy purse in both hands over my belly button, using it as a minimalist shield. He's got to work to entice me, and he knows it.

"Yes," he replies simply to my question. "I'll send a car for you, and we can play again. If that's something you're interested in."

I tap my chin and pretend to think about it. "Will you buy me a present?"

It's him who takes a step closer this time. He doesn't hesitate as he lifts his arm and slips his hand around my throat. The move is both somehow gentle but firm. I gasp, just a little.

"I take very good care of all my toys, Kiki," he says, his voice rich and smooth like expensive coffee. He rubs his thumb against my pulse point. "Let Daddy play with you again, and I'll shower you with presents."

I take a couple of shaky breaths. This close, I can see that his eyes are a dark forest green with crinkles around them, showing his maturity. Fucking hell, he's not so much hot as so classically handsome it makes me want to worship at his feet.

It's a good thing that's exactly what he wants as well.

"I'll give you my number, Daddy," I purr. "You just tell me where and when, and Kiki will be the prettiest, most perfect doll for you."

He licks his lips and looks down at mine. For a heart-stopping moment I worry he's going to try and kiss me. That's definitely off the cards. I never actually kissed his good-for-nothing son, after all. But instead, he nods.

I take it as my cue to step back, and he releases his hold on me right away. Glancing around, I spy a pile of napkins. Perfect. Reaching down, I pluck one up, making sure to stick my ass out as I do. Then I pop open my purse, extract my lipstick, and press the napkin to McKenna's chest.

"Stay still," I rasp.

I feel him watching me as I write my digits on the tissue paper in bright red. Then I fold it over and tuck it into his breast pocket before tapping his chest.

"Bye, Daddy," I say with a wink, clicking the lipstick lid back on, dropping it back in my purse, and sauntering away.

I just know he hates to say good-bye but loves to watch me leave.

Hopefully that means it won't take him long to call me. The clock is ticking, and this doll is ready for revenge now.