3
Owen
She really was too cute for words.
Sitting at the table, scowling down at the plate of veggies as she dipped one in Ranch dressing, she looked every bit like a naughty little girl who’d just been denied a treat.
Hopefully, she would behave enough for him to reward her at least once before their weekend was over. There was something about her that pulled at him. Perhaps it was just his own stubborn nature wanting to break open the prickly outer shell so he could expose the soft, sweet submissive underneath. Perhaps it was more…though the idea of that left him feeling rather uncomfortable, like the collar of his shirt was too tight, despite the first few buttons being left undone.
Whatever it was, he was determined she would leave his house a changed woman, whether she liked it or not. And if he had a chance to fuck her senseless in the process, he’d consider it a bonus for a job well done.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the remote and hit the button to increase the speed of the intervals. There was a soft gasp from the table, followed by Julia muttering something he couldn’t quite catch.
“What was that, little one?”
Color rushed to her cheeks as her eyes widened. “I didn’t say anything.”
Hitting the button again, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning when she let out a high, distressed whine. “Are you lying to me, Julia?”
“N-o-o.” The word drew out into a long wail when he increased the speed once more.
“I can do this all day. But how much longer can you hold out without coming, I wonder?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please stop, Daddy!”
Taking pity on her, he bumped the vibrator back down to the lowest setting. “Are you going to tell me what you mumbled under your breath?”
“If I do, are you gonna punish me again?”
Did she even realize how her voice had raised in pitch, making her sound so much younger? Or how her bottom lip was pushed out into a perfect little pout?
Maybe Julia didn’t identify as a Little, but she certainly had some tendencies.
“That depends on how naughty it was.” Crossing his arms, he forced himself to look stern as he glared down at her. “Now, what did you say?”
“I um, sorta called you a bad name.” Tears glistened on her lashes when she looked up at him. “I’m really, really sorry, and I won’t ever do it again, I swear!”
“Come here.”
Lip trembling, shoulders hunched in defeat, she pushed her chair back from the table and slowly approached him, dragging her feet the entire way. “Yes, sir?” she asked quietly when she was standing in front of him.
“Look at me, please.” He waited for her to lift her head and meet his gaze. “I won’t make you repeat what you said this time. But the next time I catch you mumbling under your breath at me, you’ll have to confess with a mouth full of soap suds. Do we have an understanding, little girl?”
“Yes, sir. I really am sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Her forehead wrinkled, genuine confusion filling her eyes. “I’m not usually so…”
“Bratty?” he supplied when she trailed off.
The corners of her lips dipped down, and a fresh wave of tears filled her eyes. “I guess that is what I’m being, huh?”
“You are. But that’s okay.” Finally allowing himself the smile he’d been holding back, he reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I rather enjoy brats. They make life so very interesting.”
“Really? Is that why you’re a Daddy?”
“I suppose that’s part of it.”
Tilting her head to the side, she studied him, and he sensed the barest sliver of a crack in that shell of hers. “What’s the rest of it?”
“I enjoy taking care of people. I spend my day in court being this big, bad, hardass lawyer. It’s relaxing for me to come home and have someone to care for and nurture.” Grinning down at her, he tapped her on the tip of her rather adorable nose. “Not that I’m not a hardass when I absolutely need to be at home. But I like to think that’s not all I am.”