It’s an odd time to blush, but I am. “It’s okay, Daddy. I like it.”
“I wish we could stay here. Just me and you and fall asleep right now.”
“So do I,” I whisper.
“Let’s put ourselves together.” He smiles. “And I’ll take you home.”
“Home?” I ask, starting to panic. “But…Mom—”
“Not that home, princess. I’m rich. I have many homes. And one of them is just for us.”
12
Pixie
I’m in and out of sleep as Baron drives. My heels lie on the floor beneath me, and I’m curled up in the passenger seat with one hand between my legs, holding a crumpled-up paper towel to soak up the seemingly infinite amount of cum he pumped inside of me.
I’m sore now and will definitely be sore tomorrow, but I like it. It’s a little reminder of what just happened between us.
I feel as though I understand him more now as a man. His motivations are far less murky now. I saw the pain in his eyes when he spoke to me about my mom, about wanting me and not being able to have me. My little “date” with Harry hurt him, and I feel bad about that. But I’ll make it up to him.
A man who could have any woman he wants, and he wants me. A man I should never, under any circumstances want to be with, yet here I am, curled up in post-orgasmic bliss, blushing and glowing and ready for more whenever he is.
Somehow, I feel stronger now. When he first did what he did, I felt helpless. I was a victim, subject to his whim. Powerless.
But I was powerless before that too. The more I teased, the more he ignored, distanced himself from me. Punished me. When I acted out, he punished me again. Getting close to him was not an option. But now I feel as though we’ve somehow reached level ground. Not completely, but almost.
We both want each other and are no longer afraid to admit it. The pretext behind our actions is gone. I feel as though I’ve taken my rightful place by his side, and although the journey to get here may have been completely unconventional, the destination has made it all worth it.
“Here we are, princess,” Baron says gently. The car slows, and I look up to see us pulling into the driveway of a very modern house on the slope of a mountain. The rain is barely a drizzle now, but he covers me with his jacket, then lifts me into his arms and carries me inside.
“I bet that’s how you treat all the girls,” I tease as he brings me over to a couch and sets me down.
“No one other than you has been here before, Pixie. No one.”
A warm fuzzy feeling grips me, and I watch as Baron goes over to the hearth and begins building a fire.
“Doesn’t it just have a button like the one at the other house?” I ask. He turns and smiles.
“This one’s a bit more old fashioned,” he explains, rolling up some newspaper and placing it on the brick. “You use paper, then kindling, maybe some birch bark because it burns easily, and then add the wood as the flames grow. Before you know it, you’ve got a roaring fire.”
“A slow start,” I nod. “Then tons of heat. Kind of like us.”
I watch Baron as he continues to build and grow the fire. Once its flames are strong and steady, he comes over to me and pulls me into his arms. I curl up again his strong chest, feeling completely and utterly safe. It’s been a completely strange road to get here, but does it really matter when this is the destination?
“So what was that party tonight?” I ask him, causing him to chuckle.
“Just billionaire bullshit. Old guys with money pretending they’re the illuminati and running the world, when in reality they’re just paying pretty girls to come serve them champagne while topless.”
“That’s your scene, huh?”
“Not at all,” Baron replies, giving me a playful poke. “I just wanted you to see where behavior like yours could get you.”
Pretending to be offended, I sit up and glare at him. “So you think if I’d kept up teasing you with my outfits I’d one day end up topless at a mansion serving champagne to Jeff Bezos?”
It’s strange how comfortable I feel around him now. Maybe I should get my head checked. But if this is what insanity feels like, I’ll take it.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping, but when I wake up, I smell bacon cooking.
Stretching, I open my eyes to the fire crackling happily in the hearth and sun pouring in through the windows. Sitting up, I turn to find Baron in the kitchen behind me.
“Sun’s out.” I smile.
“No more rain.” He smiles back. “At least for now. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Since when do you cook for yourself?” I get up and join him in the kitchen. He’s already made toast and a fruit salad. I pluck a piece of pineapple and suggestively slide it into my mouth.
“Just because I have a private chef – several private chefs – doesn’t mean I don’t know how to cook.”
“I thought that was exactly what it meant.” I laugh. He leans in to kiss me, but I shake my head. “No. Morning breath.”
“Don’t be silly,” he laughs. “As if I care.”
“No, seriously. You might not care, but I care. Do you have a shower and a toothbrush?”
“Of course,” he says, pointing to a door down the hall. “But don’t take forever. Breakfast will be ready soon.”
Jeez, it’s almost like we’re a domestic couple all of a sudden, and this is our morning routine. As I turn, Baron gives me a soft slap on the ass, and I skip away from him to the bathroom.
Again, everything is already laid out for me. Several towels, a thick robe, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and the same exact hair products
