Daddy's Game Read online

  She tilted her head forward and the pink tip of her tongue traveled up and down the length of him. Once she’d wet his shaft completely, she took him between her plump, splayed lips. Closing her eyes, she bobbed her head up and down, stimulating the large dark vein on the underside of his cock.

  “Open your eyes. Keep them on me, babygirl.”

  Her lashes fluttered and her gorgeous greenish-blue eyes gazed up at him, sleepy with lust. His heart raced as he acknowledged the connection between them, so transparent in their locked gaze.

  “That’s it. You feel so good to Daddy,” he said, encouraging her.

  She nodded imperceptibly and blinked hard.

  He tried not to gag her. As much as he would have liked ramming himself down her throat, he tried to remain focused on teaching her what he liked. It was his job to determine what made the delicate flower that was his babygirl open up her petals and shiver with satisfaction. So far he was pleased with his discoveries. Not only was Carmen compliant and a natural submissive, but she was also responsive to his attentions and that turned him on.

  While most men were as simple as a wind-up toy in the complexity of their needs—give them a wet hole and they were satisfied—women were a different story. Each one was like an exotic flower with different instructions for how to make them grow and blossom. It was important that he learned what she liked, what made her hot, what made her come.

  His balls contracted when she purred under his touch, and his toes wanted to curl every time he made her squirm beneath him.

  Her jaw began to tremble and he used all his willpower to withdraw from her face. “Get up on the bed. I’m going to fuck you senseless now.”

  Her expression was one of relief mixed with passion and she stumbled to get up and climb on the bed.

  Offering her a hand, he helped her up. “You’re being a very good girl.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  His chest tightened at the sight of her sitting on the bed, hair tousled, her eyes bright with desire. He’d only just begun to know her, and yet he loved everything about her. Her talent, her passion for her work, the way her eyes changed colors like some ethereal enchantress.

  “Lie back,” he told her. “Now spread your legs for me, babygirl.”

  She fell back on the bed and parted her legs.

  “Wider,” he growled.

  Though she opened them a bit more, he forced her legs apart as wide as they would go. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about, girl.”

  After another trip to the closet, he brought back a set of pink leather wrist restraints. “Give me your arm,” he said, indicating her right one.

  She offered her wrist and he fastened the leather snugly against her skin. He repeated the process with her other arm, then picked her up in his arms like a child and repositioned her in the middle of the bed. Reaching back behind the bed, he brought back a strap with two hooks, which he clipped to each of the leather bracelets that now held her hands above her head, attached to the bed.

  He could hear her breath quicken, and he grazed her earlobe with his teeth, whispering, “You’re mine now. To do with as I like.”

  He watched as a shiver ran through her body, and she tried to remain calm.

  Grabbing a condom from a drawer in his nightstand, he knelt on the bed and rolled it onto his erection. “Remember, you have a safeword.”

  She nodded.

  “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, her lower lip quivering.

  He took pity on her. Hell, he didn’t want to scare the crap out of her. He’d hoped this would be a pleasant experience for her. Maybe the bondage wasn’t her thing…

  “Tell me what you’re feeling right now,” he said.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Are you scared? Excited? Nervous? What?”

  “All of those things and maybe a little cold.”

  “Cold? Yeah, with the air conditioning, no covers… It is chilly in here.”

  He stroked her inner thigh, relief washing over him. “That’s alright. I’ll warm you up. Keep those legs spread just like that.”

  Kneeling between her legs, he teased her, pressing the head of his cock against her pussy, rubbing it just around her opening, but never entering her.

  When she began to lift her hips and arch her back, he chastised her. “Uh-uh-uh. Daddy gets to decide when to stick it in. You have to be a good girl and lie back.”

  She grimaced with frustration, but stilled.

  Then in one long stroke he entered her. Her body quivered with pleasure as he filled her needing cunt. “Then when Daddy does give you what you want, you will be a very grateful girl.”

  “Yes, sir,” she groaned.

  He thrust in and out of her warm, wet pussy, saying, “You’ve been a good girl. You can move your hips now.”

  She tugged at her restraints over her head. He kissed her full on the mouth, invading her with his searching tongue and muffling the tiny moans forming in her throat.

  He rocked into her, giving her all the passion he had until her muscles took over, contracting around him as her orgasm shook her to her very core, wringing a climax from him at the same time. Spent, he stayed inside her; propping his body onto his elbows, he asked, “So what do you think?”

  “Where do I sign up?” She beamed up at him.

  * * *

  Several months later, Carmen stood in her studio putting the finishing touches on her portrait of Natron. She was proud of this piece. Her love for the man came through in the painting and she knew it.

  Natron gazed back at her from the massive canvas in front of her. She was having it photographed this week before giving it to Natron. She considered how far their relationship had come. At first she had worried about being a mere notch on Natron’s bedpost, but it turned out she needn’t have been. She and Natron had a unique chemistry all their own, he was always coming up with games for them to play, and Carmen adored those ‘sessions.’

  She’d never had multiple orgasms before, but with him she experienced them almost every time they were together. Whether it was him, the way he fucked her so hard and with such stamina, or how aroused she became from the way he talked to her and his games—she wasn’t certain, but she’d become addicted to him and the special brand of love they shared.

  While she loved his fancy lifestyle, it was Natron himself that she was drawn to. How had he known how well she would fit with his kinky side? Hell, she surprised herself how much she liked being submissive to him. It fit not only her personality, but also her fantasies. She’d always wanted a take-charge kind of man who would take her hard and ravish her.

  But she hadn’t expected to be excited by him ordering her around. When he’d told her to spread her legs, she thought the butterflies in her stomach might just take off and fly her right out of the room. And even though she was an independent, grown woman, whenever he called her babygirl, she melted into a puddle of goo at his feet.

  In her heart she believed that Natron was a good man and that she could trust him. And because she knew he had her back, she agreed to play his quirky games. No matter what he did, she felt he had her best interests at heart, that he wanted to nurture and protect her as well as please her. That made her want to serve him, to give to him more than he gave to her. But even as she luxuriated in the love they shared, she wondered if there might come a time when he wanted more than she’d be able to give.

  Chapter Six

  Football season had begun and Carmen and Natron had been together for months. Being the girlfriend of a big football star was fun and while she missed him when he was on the road, she’d grown accustomed to the lifestyle.

  The Vipers had Natron practicing most of the time he was in Dallas, which didn’t leave much time for her. To keep her from being at such loose ends, Natron arranged for her to meet with a group of girls he thought she might like.

  Apparently his financial advisor, Mason Dubreaux, had a Daddy/little girl
relationship with his girlfriend, Nellie, and Nellie had a group of friends who all liked being a Daddy’s girl. They even called their group the Daddy’s Little Girls Club. Natron had put Carmen in touch with Nellie, who told her that the girls had decided to meet in Fort Worth for a night of bull riding at the rodeo.

  Carmen was nervous about meeting the girls for the first time, but she looked forward to it. She arrived at the stockyard early. She and Nellie planned to meet outside the Cowtown Coliseum. She got there first and since she didn’t see Nellie, Carmen leaned up against a post and played a candy game on her phone while she waited.

  “Carmen!”

  Hearing her name, Carmen turned to find a cute blonde with big hair coming toward her, high heels clicking against the pavement. The girl had the poise and presence of a pageant queen, and she held her arms out, intent on giving Carmen a hug.

  “Nellie?” Carmen asked as she was swallowed up into a cloud of Chloe perfume.

  “Yes, and you must be Carmen.” Carmen nodded and Nellie embraced her, giving Carmen a firm squeeze before releasing her.

  Carmen nodded. She couldn’t help but stare at the girl. Nellie’s flawless makeup and ultra-smooth skin made her seem more like a doll than real. Nellie wore a red western-style blouse with shiny red pearl snaps up the front and painted-on jeans. Her hair reminded Carmen of a Dolly Parton wig, but she had a feeling it was Nellie’s actual hair under all that hairspray.

  “So you’re Natron’s little girl?” Nellie’s blue eyes sparkled.

  Carmen nodded, “And your boyfriend is his financial advisor?”

  Nellie beamed. “Mason. I’m so glad he told me about you. I can’t wait for you to meet the other girls. They’re going to be tickled pink.” She linked arms with Carmen and they went into the arena.

  Apparently Kimberly, who was the leader of the group, had arranged for tickets and Nellie led them to their seats. Once there, she introduced Carmen to the other girls. First there was Kimberly, a striking brunette with coffee-colored eyes. “Welcome to the group, Carmen. We’re so happy you could join us.”

  Sloane stood on the other side of Kimberly. She was a tall, thin girl with a long, sleek curtain of blond hair. Her eyes were so dark they were almost black, and she reminded Carmen of Cher, only with white-blond hair. “Nice to meet you,” Sloane said in a no-nonsense voice.

  At the far end of the row was Lucinda. Carmen had read about her in the arts section of the Dallas Morning News. A child prodigy, Lucinda Lake was one of the most famous concert pianists of their generation. Lucinda Lake had a daddy? That got her curiosity bubbling, and Carmen couldn’t wait to learn more about that. Lucinda waved, and Carmen waved back trying not to act too star-struck. She’d never heard Lucinda play, but she’d always wanted to.

  “Where is Charmaine?” Nellie asked.

  Sloane scowled. “Late as always. I should give that girl a watch for her birthday, not that it would do any good.”

  “Maybe somebody should show her how to set an alarm on her phone,” Kimberly said.

  “She knows how to do that, she just chooses not to,” Sloane huffed. “She’s consistently disrespectful of other people’s time.”

  “She’s on island time,” Lucinda offered.

  “Yeah, that’s her,” Nellie agreed.

  They all stood for ‘The Star-Spangled Banner.’ Looking around, Carmen saw most people covering their hearts with their hands so she did the same. She’d never been to the rodeo before, which was strange because she hadn’t grown up too far from here, but her family had never been into that sort of stuff.

  It was exciting, the lights, the sounds, the announcer on the loudspeaker, and yes, the sexy cowboys waiting their turn to ride one of the top bulls in the nation. The place smelled of livestock, more like the smell of a barn freshly stocked with hay than of manure. It reminded Carmen of the country and visiting her grandparents’ farm.

  Just as the bull-riding contest was about to start, a girl walked up the stands like she owned the place. She was gorgeous, with blond-and-brown striped hair, shocking blue eyes, and a sexy little figure. She wore skinny black jeans, stylish cowboy boots, and a beige suede jacket with fringe swaying from it.

  It only took a minute for Carmen to recognize her. Charmaine Bainbridge was the talk of Dallas. She was what you might call a celebutante—a debutante with a great deal of celebrity. Her father was the wealthiest man in Texas, and when he’d divorced her mother when she was six years old, the local media had dubbed her ‘the poor little rich girl’ and documented her every move since. Charmaine turned into a wild child, her name in the headlines sold newspapers, and she became a household name in the Lone Star state.

  Once she got to their row, she had to push past several people to get to the empty seat next to Carmen. Just as she plopped down into it, flashbulbs went off. A couple of paparazzi had followed her into the coliseum and were standing just a few rows down, trying to get her picture.

  Charmaine stood up and shot them her middle finger. “Screw you, hey, let these people enjoy their rodeo!” she yelled at them and sat back down. Reluctantly the men lowered their cameras and slinked away.

  While Charmaine’s reputation as a diva preceded her, Carmen was glad to find Charmaine was just as interesting as advertised. “Hi, I’m Carmen,” Carmen said and held out her hand.

  Charmaine took it and gave it a good shake. “Hi, Carmen. Natron’s girl, right?”

  Carmen nodded.

  “I’m Charmaine,” she said and waved to the other girls seated on Carmen’s other side.

  “I know who you are,” Carmen said, feeling her cheeks warm.

  “It’s about time you showed up,” Sloane griped.

  “That old saw again? You should really find something more original to bitch about, Sloane,” Charmaine said.

  “I told her you were on island time,” Lucinda said.

  “What does that even mean?” Sloane asked.

  “It’s like when you go on vacation to the islands and nobody keeps track of time. It’s all laid back, nobody rushes. Island time,” Lucinda explained.

  Charmaine sat back and crossed her legs. “Yeah, island time. You should really listen to Lucy Lu over there. Has the beer guy come by?”

  Sloane let loose an exasperated sigh and Kimberly patted her arm while Lucinda signaled a beer vendor from a few sections over. They all ordered a large beer, except Charmaine who purchased the huge one that came in the container they called ‘yard.’

  “You’re gonna get so hammered,” Sloane complained.

  “That’s the plan,” Charmaine shrugged, then added, “I have a driver.”

  The girls sipped their beers as they watched the spectacle unfold in front of them. The biggest, baddest bulls on the rodeo circuit were competing tonight and tomorrow night. The bull riders competed as well. The anticipation in the coliseum was palpable with each new rider, especially in those last moments when the rider tightened his grip on the ropes just before the gate swung open and the bull exploded out of the chute.

  The bulls bucked like mad, throwing the riders around like ragdolls. Carmen loved seeing all the differences in the bulls; some were red, some black, and some spotted. Some had horns, some had no horns to speak of or horns that had been filed down, and it interested her that you couldn’t tell by looking at the bull how fierce he would be or how difficult a ride he would give his rider.

  According to the announcer, the baddest bull of the night was Stranger Danger. The announcer stated that Stranger Danger had only been ridden twice during his entire five-year career. Carmen gulped, glad to see his rider tonight wore a protective helmet.

  “I wish they wouldn’t wear those helmets. The guys who wear the cowboy hats are much hotter,” Charmaine said, taking a slug of her beer.

  “That’s just stupid, Charmaine, that’s like saying guys in motorcycle helmets aren’t as hot—so ignorant,” Sloane chided.

  “I think this cowboy made a smart move, wearing it with this bull,�
� Carmen said.

  Charmaine shrugged.

  The chute opened and Stranger Danger bolted out of the chute. The 1,500-pound red bull flew through the air; as he bucked, he moved more vertically than forward. First his head was in the air, horns slashing, then fast as lightning his tail launched into the air, and he was quick, like a fish flopping out of water. But a fish flopped frantically without purpose; not Stranger Danger. He knew what he was doing, you could almost see the calculations as he whirled around doing a 360-degree turn in mid-air, rearing up on his back legs, then hurling himself into the air again, kicking up a cloud of dirt behind him.

  After two seconds, the bull tossed the rider into the air. The poor fellow landed on his rear end only a couple of feet away from the still-kicking bull. The rodeo clowns approached Stranger Danger waving their long, colorful scarves in his face while the bull rider hopped up and climbed over the wall to safety. The consummate professional, Stranger Danger ignored the rodeo clowns, turned and trotted through the open path back to the holding pens.

  “Did you see the balls on that animal?” Charmaine whispered, nudging Carmen. She looked to see that they were enormous, and stifled a giggle. Leave it to Charmaine to point that out.

  The next rider came out wearing a cowboy hat, reddish-tan chaps, and a blue shirt that showed his muscular physique underneath. “Now that’s more like it,” Charmaine said.

  “Have you ever dated a bull rider?” Carmen asked her.

  Charmaine nodded. “They work out too much. If they’re any good, they don’t have time for fun. Hot to look at though.”

  The handsome rider in the blue shirt was one of the few to stay aboard the bull for eight seconds and wound up with the highest score of the evening.

  After the rodeo, the girls headed over to Billy Bob’s for some barbecue. They sat around a table eating ribs, drinking beer, and telling stories.

  “So how did you and Natron meet?” Charmaine asked.

  Carmen told the girls the story of meeting Natron at her art opening and then painting his portrait.