The rules.
It’s how I’ll love her. Control her. Own her.
When I’m allowed the luxury of being away from my corporate office in Manhattan, it’s here I come.
To Portland.
To Lexi.
I sit for hours in the window of my sparsely decorated rented apartment just waiting to catch a glimpse of her. I’ve jerked off to her dancing around in her little efficiency kitchen. Even seeing her reading or sleeping has me stroking myself.
Fuck, she could open a damn pickle jar and I’d be hard.
But God help me, the dreams I have of pushing my cock into her slick, hot pussy as she sleeps are the ones that drive me to the verge of madness. In those dreams, I slip into her room, hold my hand over her mouth from behind and whisper in her ear to be quiet for Daddy.
Just open your legs and let me do what I need to do, Babygirl.
Fuck if I’m ready to spray in my pants just thinking about it.
My thoughts don’t surprise me as much as they did when they first started, but still. I can’t believe she could ever understand the effect she has on me. The longing that clutches in my heart when I think of her.
So many filthy things I want to do to her innocent body.
I’d never even wanted to be involved with anyone before her. Sure, I dated in my younger years, but with her, it’s like I’m alive again. Like I’m awake for the first time in my life.
I never dreamed these dreams I’ve been having until I met her, but the time is drawing close when I’ll have her under me. I can feel it. I can’t hold off forever, I just can’t, and I’m not even sure why I’m still waiting. Well, that’s not entirely true. In my heart, I know. Deep down, I know. Just a little more time.
I just need a little more time.
And I pray she’ll understand. Because I’ll never let her go. I can’t. Lexi belongs to me, right now. And I won’t lose that.
As scared as I am, that’s exactly what will happen. I’ve got just twenty-four hours before I have to be back in New York. After this afternoon, I’ll know. She’ll know.
She comes spinning out through the kitchen doors, carrying my order, and I’m already rock hard. Without even thinking, I’m already scanning the crowd, making sure no other fuck has got eyes on her.
Never before her did a jealous hair rise anywhere on me. But all that’s changed. I’m now a possessive motherfucker when it comes to everything Lexi Chase.
Even though we’ve never shared as much as a kiss.
“Here you go.” The harmony of her voice resonates directly into my soul. The flash of her smile is captivating. Her hands are graceful, pointing like a dancer’s hands as she places white porcelain serving items in front of me. Each of her fingernails is painted a different pastel color, matching her hair.
“I love it,” I say as I bring the espresso to my lips with one hand and ever so gently touch the lavender end of a tendril with the other. “It suits you.”
Pink heat colors the tops of her cheeks, and I delight in the way she tries to hide it with her hand, fingertips brushing the skin as she absently twists a stray lock of hair around her finger. That action threatens to set my cock ripping out the front of my pants it’s so fucking cute. And she doesn’t even know it.
Nearly black hair crowns her head, contrasting with her pale skin, and straight bangs cut across mid-forehead. But today, the ends of her hair are tipped in a sea of pastel colors, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.
“Um…thanks.” She squints her left eye when she smiles and wrinkles her nose. “Anything else right now?”
Yes. You. On your knees. Looking up at me and calling me Daddy while I feed you my cock and spray my cum down your throat.
“That’ll do.”
She knows I won’t order anything else. I’ve ordered the same thing sixteen times. Never a variation. But after two months, she’s still unsure. She’s eager to please, and that only makes me want her more.
“Okay.” Lexi tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, pulls her mouth to the side and raises an eyebrow, hesitant, expecting me to say something else. She sniffles and quickly rubs a tissue under her nose, then wads it up and puts it into the front pocket of her apron.
Just as much as she knows I’m not going to order anything else, I am going to say something else. I’m nothing if not a man who knows how much my girl relies on my routine. On me providing order to her world. Making her feel safe. That she knows what to expect from me.