15. Camilla

15

CAMILLA

As Daddy pulls the sweatshirt from me, my body goes hot. I didn't know we were already getting into it, but I don't mind.

"Lift your arms, princess," he says, his tone calm and instructional.

I do so.

Jack pulls the sweatshirt up over my head and takes the time to fold it before placing it on the bed too.

I stand before him, goosebumps traveling across my skin, my nipples pricking from the cool air.

But when Jack takes his place back in front of me, he pays them no mind. He goes for my shorts next and pulls them down my legs, ignoring I'm not wearing underwear even as he sinks to his knees past my core, which is already dripping for him most surely.

"Step out," he instructs.

I step out of the legs of the shorts, now naked from head to toe.

Jack folds the shorts. Grabs the nightgown and smiles at me as he bunches the fabric up at the neck.

He's…changing me. Like I'm a little girl that needs help every step of the way. And not only am I allowing it, but I'm also enjoying it. The care and attention he's putting into making sure he does everything exactly so. The way that he can see my body naked and not ravish me on sight.

Of course, I want him to want me always. However, his restraint is compelling. His goal is not to see me naked.

His goal is to take care. Of me.

Jack has cared for me before. Washed my hair, lotioned my body, made sure I haven't had to lift a finger.

This feels different.

"Arms up, princess."

I do so, allow him to pull the nightgown over my head, plunge me into darkness as I thread my arms through the sleeves.

"There you are, baby girl," Jack coos when I emerge from the neckline.

I smile.

He smooths the nightgown down over my body. Takes out the claw clip from my hair and allows my curls to tumble down. Once he's satisfied, he takes a step back. "You look perfect, princess."

I find myself speechless. My body is buzzing, and I'm…happy.

"Do a twirl for me."

I do so, sticking my hands out at my sides. The skirt flutters around me. I feel beautiful.

I am beautiful.

Jack clutches his chest and smiles up at the ceiling. "Yes, this is exactly what I needed."

I puff my chest, knowing the fabric is thin enough that my nipples poke through. "You like it, Daddy?"

Jack nods. "Yes. I like it very much."

He comes toward me and runs the back of his fingers down the side of my face.

I let my eyes flutter shut and sink into a feeling of safety I've never known before. Not even as a child.

Here, with Jack, I know that I am enough. I am protected and cherished. And I am needed. Wanted.

"My beautiful baby girl," he rasps.

His lips brush against mine. Soft and delicate at first. "I'm taking care of you tonight. Anything you want. Anything you desire."

"I just want to make Daddy happy."

"You do that just by existing, princess."

A knot forms in my throat. I sigh, my breath stuttering and, to my surprise, tears start to stream down my cheeks. My eyes pop open in surprise.

"Why are you crying, baby girl?" Concern laces his brows.

"I don't know. I just feel…I'm feeling so…much and so–" I hiccup on the last word. I smile. "It's too much, but not scary because Daddy is here."

Jack kisses the tears off my cheeks. "You can let go, princess. With me, you can let it all go."

Let go. Something I still haven't been able to do fully.

Reading about this dynamic. I learned a bit of what is like to be a little. It is not pretending to be a child or someone younger than you are. It is a safe place inside you where you are free to be the age you feel the most comfortable at.

Growing up feeling that I didn't belong made my childhood not feel as safe, as happy as it should have been. I don't think I would want to be that age again, act that age. Enjoy that age.

But I would sometimes love to be able to just be free of being an adult, and Jack brings that out in me. That bratty side of me that wants to come out, that younger side of me that just wants to be taken care of. Feeling small and safe and carefree in a way that I don't think I ever let myself feel.

There is still so much I have to learn about myself. About this lifestyle. About who I am when I am with Daddy,

Jack pulls me into his chest. "I've got you. You're safe. Daddy's here."

I cling to him, digging my fingers into his sides. My muscles unclench, my chest unwinds, and my belly fills with heat, reminding me of the pulsing between my legs.

It's a strange dichotomy, to feel the emotions of being little along with the physical impulses that come from adulthood.

However, with Daddy, I don't judge what I want. There's no need.

Because he's in charge, and he'll keep me safe.

"What does my baby girl want?" Jack husks in my ear.

I bury my face into his chest. "I want you to touch me, Daddy."

"Where, baby girl?"

I take his hand and guide it between my legs.

Through the thin fabric, I know he can feel my heat. My wetness.

I form his hand into a cup so he can cover my pussy. "Here, Daddy."

Jack's hand tenses on me. He moves his thumb back and forth, teasing me. "You want to be filled, princess?"

My lips jerk upward into an unexpected grin. "Yes, Daddy."

Jack releases me. "Turn around and place your hands on the bed, baby girl."

As I do so, Jack removes his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. I bounce on my tiptoes.

"You're excited." He has a big smile on his face.

I bite down on my lower lip and nod.

Jack positions himself behind me and guides the nightgown up over my thighs, the fabric tickling at my skin until it's bunched up over my hips.

"Spread your legs, baby girl. Daddy needs room."

I moan. Turns me on so much when he refers to himself as Daddy.

I widen my stance and lean my elbows down on the bed, popping my ass up for him.

"My beautiful baby girl, always so good for me," Jack says, a growl in his chest.

His hand coasts over my backside as he admires, touches, caresses. He grabs and pinches a handful of me, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to let me know he's in control. "Perfect little ass."

His hand slides down my backside and slips between my legs. He drags his fingers through my center, and I mewl.

"Perfect little pussy." Jack's fingers delve a bit deeper, teasing my opening and clit. "So wet for me."

"Yes, Daddy. Only you, Daddy."

A sound thrums from his chest. "Good. That's how it should be."

With gentleness, he works his fingers inside me. Two at first, then three. I love being stretched by his fingers. "Fuck, Daddy."

"Good girls don't swear," he instructs. "And you're a good girl, right?"

A new rule. My insides tingle. "Yes, Daddy."

"That's right. Because my baby girl is an angel ."

I drape my body onto the bed, moaning as he fucks me with his fingers.

I am an angel. I am a good girl. Just by being his.

I don't know if anyone has ever loved me without conditions the way Jack does. Although, that assumes he loves me and…that would be too soon, wouldn't it?

"Daddy wants to be inside you," he whispers.

"Yes, please, Daddy." I let all my thoughts of what we are or are not fall away. I just enjoy. He is taking care of me, and I have nothing to worry about when Daddy is here.

Except he doesn't stop. He works his fingers harder, plunging them into me fast and unrepentant, thumbing my clit and skimming my g-spot at once until I have no choice but to turn to ribbons around him.

I cry out as the orgasm coasts through me, digging my fingers into the bedspread.

"Yes, let go, princess."

I contract around his fingers which spike the orgasm again inside me.

"Feel so good." The words are stuttering because of the pleasure.

Jack guides me down onto my side so I'm lying on the bed with my hips right at the edge. I get a look into his eyes and smile at him, blissed out from my orgasm.

He smiles too, his eyelids low as he undoes his pants. "You want Daddy's cock?"

"Yes, Daddy."

He jerks his underwear down, letting his dick spring forward, big and throbbing for me. "You want Daddy to fuck you?"

"Yes, Daddy."

He enters me bit by bit, lifting his chin with an elongated moan. "So tight for me…"

Yes, so tight, even though I've been stretched by his fingers. His cock is a different thing entirely.

My body knows the difference between his fingers and his penis, not just by the feel of them, but the meaning of them. The weight. His fingers can please me. His cock can change me. And that sends my need for him through the roof.

Daddy starts with shallow thrusts. They get deeper bit by bit. "Okay, baby girl?"

"So good, Daddy."

He withdraws his whole length from me, then reenters, his fingers framing the place we are joined.

I watch how his expression changes as he takes in the sight of our bodies connected. Eyes pinched, mouth ajar. A gorgeous expression.

Something shifts in him in an instant. It's a mere flash in his eyes, but I notice it. I notice everything about Daddy because I…love my Daddy.

I do.

"Harder? Can I go harder?"

"Yes, whatever you want, Daddy."

He grabs my ankle that hangs in the air and twists it to almost meet the one resting on the bed, tightening the space I've given for him to enter me.

I scream, and my body balks. The pleasure is so intense that, for a moment, it's like a shock of electricity.

"Pretty sounds," he remarks through the concentration of pounding into me.

He is in control. His strokes are intense and purposeful, hitting up against the deep part of me that wants more, more, more .

"I'm going to come again, Daddy," I whine. "You're going to make me come–"

"Wait for me," he huffs. "You'll come. With me."

I nod and grab onto his arm for support, trying to ignore the delicious sound of our bodies smacking together for fear that it might send me over the edge. A primal groan crawls up my throat and doesn't seem to end, bouncing with his thrusts.

"Oh my god, your sounds. Oh my god, baby girl, oh my god ." Daddy grips my hip so hard it hurts. He drops his head chin to chest. "Now, baby girl. Come with me. Now. "

We come together, our orgasms intertwining, moans amalgamating.

I am filled by him. His cock, his seed, his love .

I love him. And I say it over and over in my head.

I love you, Daddy.

He doesn't withdraw right away, enjoys the tightening of my walls until my orgasm has come to an end. When he leaves me, he straightens out my nightgown. Precise. Diligent. Like I'm a little doll.

After, he climbs onto the bed and spoons me, drawing me tight into his arms. "How do you feel?"

Always putting me first. Always making me the priority.

Except…there are things I want to know. Parts of his mind and his life he keeps from me under the guise of not troubling me. If we are ever to go any further than this, he'll need to open up to me. Let me see what he's keeping hidden.

"So good," I breathe out. "Thank you, Daddy."

Jack takes his time bestowing a line of kisses across my shoulders. Up my neck and jaw. To my temple. His hand runs up and down my waist, enjoying the feeling of the fabric.

"My beautiful baby girl," he murmurs.

Always , I think. But I do not say it aloud for fear that is a promise one of us might break.