19. Calvin

Chapter nineteen

Calvin

T his couldn't be for real. It wasn't possible I was going to get everything I'd ever wanted when five months ago I'd given up trying for even a half-relationship. Burying my Little so far down I could cope with occasional . Half-truths the same as half-needs. Terrified, I would scare Steven away if I let him see the real me, and he'd gone anyway. And I'd put up with his demands for the same reason.

So where did that leave me? If Daddy was going to run, I needed him to do it now, but I hadn't dared get totally lost in my Little space yet so he hadn't seen all of me. I felt like I was on the edge all the time.

And I wanted it so much I could taste it.

I kept sneaking glances at him, having an intense talk with Christopher and the other man. Gideon was scary. I knew he ran some sort of security company and that's where Daddy had been last week in Ricky's jungle. I'd known Daddy wanted to come here tonight and if he wanted to go, then I would. Anything. Some part of me also knew an instantaneous agreement wasn't a good idea, but I buried that along with my doubts. I'd had a nap, which wasn't me, but Daddy had wrapped his arms around me and almost commanded me to sleep, then he'd woken me so sweetly before making me eat a snack.

No, a healthy snack. Who knew apple slices dipped in honey were so yummy?

He seemed to have fed me most of the day.

Then he'd dressed me in the new dragon tee he'd bought me along with all the craft supplies. Those supplies were the best gift I'd ever had. Steven once bought me a Calvin Klein long-sleeved dress shirt to go with some pants he wanted me to wear for his Christmas work party. I'd been home from work late anyway because a little girl's dad wanted to see me about some problems, and he worked long hours. So, I was in trouble for that, and then he expected me to be grateful for clothes he'd bought because he liked them, not me. And we'd fought, and he'd gone on his own.

It would never have occurred to Steven to buy me coloring books, and because everything seemed to be hitting me all at once, I remembered something else, the reason why even when I could, I'd never bought myself anything to color with.

It had been Christmas Day. I was maybe seven? Not that I expected anything because even that young I knew that what seemed to happen to the other kids in my class didn't happen to me. When Mom had given me a coloring book on Christmas Day, I'd been astonished. It was a little used, but most of the pages weren't touched and I was so excited. Except she'd forgotten to get me crayons or pencils to color with and because I was so stupid, I'd asked if she had.

And she'd erupted. Mom had kept me home for the first few days after the break so no one saw the bruises, and for the first time I was glad of the bruises so I wouldn't have to listen to what the other kids got from Santa. It was the first and last time I'd ever opened a coloring book for myself. Except now I had a ton of them, and even ones that you scratched off to reveal the color underneath. And some of the pencils were metallic, which was so cool.

"You look shell-shocked," Ricky pronounced as we sat down at a table with a million Lego at. I'd have preferred the craft table, but I knew Ricky enjoyed this.

"Have you been here before?"

He smirked. "I have no choice but to let you out of that non-answer until we're alone, so yes."

I inhaled, maybe too rapidly, and Ricky clutched my hand. "If it's wrong, you can come home with me."

I clung to his hand. "No, I'm worried it's too right."

"And it's all happening so quickly." Ricky giggled, which I wasn't expecting, but nodded anyway. "You've forgotten what I went through."

"No, I haven't." I said quietly. Ricky had met Chris six months after he turned eighteen in a coffee bar just off campus, and moved in nearly the same weekend. Even for him, that was fast.

"I lied."

My head came up so fast it was a wonder I didn't get whiplash. "About what?"

"You remember I'd mostly grown out of my asthma?"

I nodded. Even I'd been surprised when it resurfaced. "It came back because I was drinking. And drinking way too much. All of a sudden, I was an adult and sick of rules, and I missed my dad so much. I met Chris in the middle of an attack."

I gaped. How did I not know this?

"Chris was at a BDSM open night. The club's shut now, but I was out to prove something and the poor guy that had me in ropes didn't know what to do when I had an attack and couldn't breathe."

"What happened?" I asked in shock.

"Chris just got a knife and cut me free in four seconds flat. He had me on his lap and sent someone to get my inhaler from my locker within moments. Then he took me to his home and smacked me so hard I couldn't sit for a week."

"He punished you?" I was appalled.

"For lying," Ricky said ruefully. "I didn't put asthma anywhere on my medical history, and we'd been drinking before we went to the club, which was another crash and burn. Boy was I in trouble." Ricky smirked like the punishment wasn't as horrific as I'd been imagining. "We've been together ever since."

I sat back in my seat completely stunned, the noise of the Little area going on around me.

"I always knew you were a Little," Ricky said softly. "We both recognized it in each other, but while I had a safe space to act out, you had to hide yours." I met his shimmering gaze.

"Not your fault." It had been mine. I'd been so desperate not to be alone that I'd tried to be someone else, then I'd tried to push away Daddy, the one person who wanted me to be me. And Daddy had bought me My Little Pony jammies and a dragon tee and all those coloring books. He saw me. He saw the real me, even though I was trying to keep it hidden. Why didn't I trust him?

I knew I didn't deserve him. Daddy had laid everything on the line. He was honest, and I was still hiding. He needed honesty. No, he needed someone better than me. He needed a boy who would give him everything, and I was too messed up.

"Cal?" Ricky whispered, and I wondered why his face was all blurry when I looked up. Then I blinked and realized I was crying. It was all so much because I was so stupid and why on earth would Daddy want to keep me?

No one else ever had. My mom, my dad, even my first proper boyfriend. Maybe Ricky was only still my friend because we didn't see each other enough for him to get sick of me?

"Baby?" Somehow, I knew he'd be there, and I held my arms up automatically as Daddy bent down and he simply wrapped me in his strong arms. I buried my head in his shoulder as he lifted me. I vaguely heard Ricky assure Chris I was okay, and I was aware of them helping Daddy get me outside and into his truck, wrapped in a blanket, and Daddy took my hand and held it in his lap all the way home.

"One of the first things I'm gonna do is empty the garage and get a remote door opener," he grumbled as he parked in the driveway. "I don't like you having to walk so far to the door. "

And it was such a random Daddy thing to say I giggled, then sniffed, then giggled again. "I'm sorry."

He huffed. "Not your fault I haven't got a palace ready for you."

And there he went again. "I'm no prince," I whispered.

He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. "You are to me." Then he turned off the engine and climbed out. I was still trying to unwrap the blanket when he opened my door.

"So, rule one. I always open your car door, and you always wait to let me."

I blinked. "We're doing rules?" My heart did a crazy-ass flutter. Rules meant long-term.

"Definitely," and he picked me up and strolled to the door like I didn't weigh anything. "You know from the interview form, I'm good at lists." He let me down, then unlocked the door.

"Rule two is that you have to always tell me where you are or want to be. I'm not trying to keep you from your friends, but I need to make sure you can get there and back safely, preferably accompanied by me, but that might not always be possible." He frowned. "I need to get a proper security system." I had to swallow down a really tight throat. "Do you need the bathroom?" I shook my head.

"Okay, well, we're gonna talk all this out, then I'm going to run us a bath." He paused and set me down, then bent to take off my shoes. I rested my hands on his shoulders. I didn't even remember someone putting my shoes back on.

"What's three?"

He stood up and took me to the love seat, sat down, and drew me into his arms. I sighed and got comfy. "Three is the most important one, so I'm moving it up to one," he said very solemnly, and I stilled. Then I felt a thumb under my chin, giving me no choice but to look up.

"Rule three is that you never put my most precious possession in danger."

"Possession?" I could barely breathe.

He nodded. "You belong to me, and I'm never going to compromise on your safety. Ever. That's non-negotiable." My heart was doing flip-flops or swoopy things. It sounded bossy and domineering and utterly perfect. "And in return, I will treat you like a prince." He wiggled a hand like he was unsure. "Maybe a princess."

I didn't care what the rest of the rules were as I launched myself at him. He grinned and managed to avoid my mouth for a second. "Is that a yes? I have your consent?"

"Yes, a million percent," I said, and then Daddy's mouth descended on mine. I didn't remember getting undressed, but Daddy's sure hands were all over me, making my skin tingle and my body come alive, yet still being careful of my shoulder. I pressed myself close, happy I could barely move, glorying in the whispered words and the way he called me baby and his boy. I wanted it so much I couldn't breathe. My cock was rock hard for once and aching for release, something Steven had never managed.

Then I ouched as I felt the smack on my ass. Daddy broke off, and I opened my eyes. "I lost you." Shame burned my skin. He was right. I had no business thinking of other people while he was making me feel this good.

I hummed as the smack turned into a tingle, which seemed to make my cock throb even harder. "Daddy," I whispered, trying to grind my hips and failing miserably because of how I was trapped. He hummed his appreciation, and I jerked as he used his strong fingers to cup my balls, reaching under them and scraping his nail. "Daddy," I gasped, knowing I was so close, and wasn't sure whether I was offering a plea or a warning.

"Starting tomorrow, you're going to wear a plug for an hour." I nearly sobbed. I was desperate to be filled. Being empty hurt. But then he slipped a lubed finger inside me at the same time as his mouth crashed down on mine and I was gone. Pleasure—such a physical thing with Daddy—burned through my body and set every cell on fire, but as I gasped and writhed my release, I knew I was safe. Daddy held me through each shockwave. Held me tight. Held me safe. Made me believe he would never let go.

And when he rose above me and painted me with his release, I wanted everything. I felt marked and claimed, and when we collapsed in a sticky mess, I didn't care.

Daddy chuckled. "Think we both need a bath now."