Foster
We pass her cabin on the end of a row of four and head for mine set off a bit from the others. Mine is larger. I think it housed a family in the old days. Nowadays it’s just me, but I claimed it years ago when I first moved here.
I could have stayed in the big house, but it was so…big. Kind of eerie when it’s empty. This two-bedroom cabin is perfect for me. Cozy. It’s a place I can relax. I’ve made it mine over the years.
I open the door and let Amelia pass by me to enter. She spins around slowly in the middle of the room. “I love it.”
“I’m glad.” I grin.
She wanders around, taking in my décor. I follow her with my gaze, watching her reactions. My living room is done in dark colors. The walls are rustic.
Amelia heads straight for the fireplace and runs her hand over the wall next to it. “Is this the other side of the logs I could see outside?”
“No. When the cabin was redone, the walls were fortified. They’re thicker than the original, but when I moved in and saw pictures of how the cabin looked a hundred years ago, I decided to redo the inside to give the impression you’re looking at the other side of the logs.”
“That’s amazing. I love it. And the fireplace too.” She palms the stone mantle.
“The stones are original. I had to move some of them, but I preserved it.”
She continues to stroll through my space. I love having her here. If someone would have asked me two days ago if I wanted a woman in my cabin, I would have laughed and told them fuck no. I’ve changed a bit in the past thirty hours.
My sofa is soft brown leather with darker brown pillows tossed at the ends. There’s an oval rug under the coffee table. The coffee table, kitchen table, and chairs are all rustic as if they were made a century ago even though they are less than five years old.
“Are these the original hardwood floors?” she asks.
“Unfortunately, I had to redo them. They were too damaged, but I tried to imitate the originals.”
She moves toward the kitchen. It’s all one room really, same as her cabin. I’ve rearranged the configuration of the appliances and modernized everything so it’s all stainless steel and granite.
“This is so perfect, Foster.”
My heart is bounding now. It shouldn’t matter to me so much that she likes my place, but it does. I nod toward the short hallway. “Would you like to see the bathroom and the master bedroom?”
“Sure.”
I head that direction and open the first door on the left. “Bathroom. The door on the other side opens into the master bedroom. Nothing special, but hey, there’s plumbing.”
She chuckles. I love that sound.
I open the master bedroom next to the bathroom.
Amelia passes me to enter it.
It feels so intimate having her in my space. When she strokes my comforter, my cock stiffens. “I love how all the furniture is so rustic as if it were made at the beginning of the twentieth century.”
“That was the goal.”
She steps back into the hallway and points at the door across from us. “What’s in there?”
I glance at the door and stiffen. Most of the time I forget this cabin even has a second bedroom. “Skeletons,” I mutter.
“Pardon?” She lifts both brows.
I chuckle, though it’s forced. “Nothing.” I open the door for her to see.
“Oh, you meant that. Nothing at all. Why? It could be an office or something.”
I shrug as I pull the door to the empty room closed. “Don’t really need an office. I have a small desk in the living room. I don’t use it much except to check my email or order things.”
Her mouth opens but then she shuts it quickly, not pressing me on this issue. She wanders back into my living room and sits in the leather recliner that matches my couch.
I move to sit on the couch, wishing she were closer, but not pressing the issue. There’s no reason to rush her. She’s mine. I have my entire life to prove that to her. I can be patient. At least I hope I can.
I cross one leg over the other and lean back, trying to appear far calmer than I feel. I want to speed things up. I want to flash forward to a future where Amelia is mine, living in my home, obeying my rules, sleeping in my bed.
We’re nowhere close to that point yet, so I need to slow the fuck down and start from the beginning. “Tell me about yourself.”
She fidgets and then sits on her hands. Her toes drag the floor, but she’s too short to get her feet planted flatly. Her hair is up in a ponytail, loose tendrils hanging along the sides of her face. “Uh, okay. What do you want to know?”
“Favorite color?” Seems like a safe place to start.
She giggles. Excellent. I want her relaxed. “Purple.”
“Favorite food?”
“Oh, that’s hard. I’m a foodie. A nice thick Chicago-style pizza would rank pretty high though.”
“What’s on it?” I smile.
“Pepperoni, mushrooms, green peppers, black olives, and sliced tomatoes.”
I chuckle. “Sounds delicious. Do you make those yourself?”
“Yes, but it takes some time. The crust is a serious component.”
“I bet.” It’s impossible not to grin at her, especially when she’s enthusiastic.
“What’s your favorite food?” she asks, rocking back and forth.
“From now on it’s whatever you cook.” I wink at her.
“That’s not an answer,” she points out.
“Hmm. I like a perfectly cooked, thick burger with gruyere and sauteed mushrooms.”
“I’ll have to add that to my menu.” She beams.
“The way to my heart and all…”
Her face flushes. “Doesn’t seem like you need me to cook good foods to endear myself to you. You’re pretty persistent.”
“I am indeed. And you’re pretty resistant.” I lift a brow.
She shrugs, but her expression becomes serious. “You’re intensely dominant, Foster. I’m not the kind of girl who can submit the way you need.”
“I think you’re wrong, sweet girl.” I try to keep my words soft but also firm.
She cocks her head to one side. “Why? What makes you think I can submit to you or that I want to?”
“You already have, Amelia.”
“How have I submitted to you?” Her brow furrows.
“Did you masturbate last night?” I ask bluntly.
Her face pinkens and she tips her head down to stare at her lap. “No.”
“Did you want to?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Did you think about me making you come?”
She squirms and then pulls her hands out from under her thighs to twist them in her lap.
“Amelia, look at me.”
She lifts her gaze slowly, but her lips are pursed. My cock is so fucking hard. I have to know what she thought about me last night.
I switch to a different question first. “Did you read your book last night?”
“No, Sir,” she murmurs. Fuck me. She’s precious.
“Good girl. I bet you had trouble going to sleep, huh?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her voice is still barely audible. I don’t mind. It’s sweet. She’s so rattled.
“What did you think about while you were lying in bed, Amelia?” I encourage.
“You spanking me,” she finally murmurs. “Happy?”
“Yes, but don’t get snarky with me, sweet girl, unless you want me to take you over my knee right now, and it won’t be for pleasure.”
She shivers.
I lower my voice. “Did that arouse you? Thinking about me spanking you?”
She inhales slowly. “You know it did.”
“Watch your tone,” I warn.
She swallows. “Sorry, Sir.”
How does this Little girl not realize she’s submitting to me?
“You seem surprised. Do you not usually get aroused when you’re spanked?”
“Never.” She doesn’t hesitate.
Interesting. I don’t know how to respond to that.
Luckily, she answers my unasked question on her own. “No one has ever spanked me over their knee.”
Oh.
Ohhh.
“So usually you’re at the club and you’re over a bench or a horse or some other apparatus?”
“Yes, Sir. Always. I only submit at Surrender. On my terms. It’s not really even submitting because I arrange the scenes ahead of time.”
“So you use spanking as a form of release, but not sexual.”
“Right. Or flogging or paddling. Whatever.”
“Over your clothes?” I’m so damn intrigued, and I want more details.
“Sometimes. But sometimes the Dom lifts my skirt.”
“Panties?”
“I usually wear a thong.”
I hold my breath. It’s shocking how badly I’d like to see these thongs on her. I’d also like to see them not on her.
I need to adjust my cock, but I don’t.
She inhales, her chest rising. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Not yet. I want to understand you, Amelia.”
“You want to dominate me, Sir.”
“I already am dominating you, sweet girl,” I point out.
She sighs. “It’s unnerving.”
“It’s also a fact.”
“Maybe you could stop it.” She chews on her bottom lip.
“That’s not what either of us wants.”
She wrings her hands again.
“Have you ever had a relationship with a Dom?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Not a real one anyway.”
I lift an eyebrow. “You’ve been in a relationship with a fake Dom?” Now I’m the one unnerved. I grip the armrest with my fingers.
“Yes,” she murmurs.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. No wonder she’s so skittish. I want to punch something. “How long ago?” I ask gently.
“It’s been three years. I left him. I’m over it.”
Apparently not, though. “Was he physical with you?”
She shakes her head. “No. Verbal. When we met I was already dabbling in the fetish community. I was a member of Surrender. He wasn’t. I told him about it. He thought it would be cool to explore together. He either didn’t understand the community or chose not to. At first, it was no big deal. I thought it was just his naïve presentation that rubbed me wrong, but it escalated.”
“Go on.”
She sighs. “He had this notion I wanted him to order me around, so he did. He kept adding to the perverted dominance though until he was constantly insisting I wait for him on my knees at the end of the day. He wanted a blow job before he even got through the door. He would demand dinner at certain times. Shit like that. I wasn’t getting anything out of it, so I left.” She shrugs as if it’s no big deal.
No wonder she’s so independent. It makes more sense now. “Have you dated anyone since then?”
“No.”
I sure can’t judge her for that. I haven’t dated anyone in five years myself. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Amelia.”
She shrugs. “It’s water under the bridge. I’m over it.”
“Except you haven’t let anyone else into your life.”
“Haven’t needed it. I like to control my own environment. I like to know where my stuff is and what’s in my fridge. My home is always peaceful because I’m the only person in it. If I leave clothes on the floor, no one complains.”
“Do you do that?” I’m fighting a grin.
She sighs. “No. That’s not the point.” She narrows her gaze. “What about you? Why don’t you have someone in your life?”
I nod slightly. “Fair question. I was in a long-term relationship with a Little. She abruptly ended the relationship and left. That was five years ago. Soon after that I took this job for Roman and moved out here. I haven’t had the opportunity to find another Little.” I run a hand through my hair. “The truth is I haven’t wanted to. Celia burned me. I’ve been hiding from the world.”
She flinches, her eyes widening in shock. “You’ve been hiding for five years?”
“Haven’t you also been hiding for three years?” I point out.
She bites that lower lip again for several seconds. “I didn’t move to a remote cabin and not see humans. I had friends and the club and a job.”
“But you’ve been lonely,” I state gently.
She shakes her head. “Nope. I’ve been perfectly fine.”
“Fine is a horrible way to live.” I lift a brow.
“Have you been fine?” she queries.
Touché. I sigh. “I thought I was fine, until yesterday.” Honesty seems prudent.
“Well, so did I then.” She sits taller again.
I smile. “So, we were both fine for far too many years and now we’ve met. Maybe we could work on being more than fine together?”
She searches my gaze. “I don’t think we want the same things.”
“But you’re curious, and you’re doubting your resolve.”
“It’s more like I’m infuriated you have a way of affecting me that goes against my resolve to never let anyone dominate me again.”
“Your ex wasn’t dominating you. He was abusing you. There’s a difference.”
“I know but it’s a fine line and I was obviously horrible at discerning the difference. I don’t trust people now.”
“Are you sure it’s not that you don’t trust yourself? You were newer to BDSM back then. You aren’t new anymore. You’re well aware of the signs of an abuser versus a legitimate Dom, a real Daddy.”
“Maybe…”
“I think you need to forgive yourself, don’t you?”
She fidgets again. “Maybe. My friend Stella thinks I should move on.”
“Your friend Stella sounds like a wise woman.”
Amelia tips her head down but in a moment she sniffles which breaks my heart. “Sweet girl, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
She swipes at her tears and holds her breath.
“You need a hug. Would you like to come over here so I can hug you?” I told her she had to ask me to touch her, but that was before I knew she was going to divulge difficult information and then shiver while she cried. I uncross my legs and sit forward.
She hesitates. Thinking. Seconds tick by. Finally, she shoves off the edge of the armchair and comes to me.
My heart is melting as she approaches, and when she gets close enough, I slide my hands down her slender arms and ease them back up, giving her a moment to adjust to my touch. When she lets out the breath she’s holding, I part my thighs and pull her gently into my embrace.
Blessedly, she slumps against me, so I lift her up and settle her on one knee, hugging her close and rocking her gently. I stroke her ponytail and then palm her head so she rests it against my shoulder.
“I hate that someone hurt you, sweet girl. Thank you for sharing that with me. It will help me to be more aware of your needs. I’ll be very careful about how I speak to you.” I tip her chin back so she looks at me. “I’m not saying I won’t be strict with you or have rules. I won’t let you do dangerous things like roaming around at night in the dark alone.” I lift a brow.
She licks her lips, eyes wide. “I’m not fond of rules.”
I chuckle, shaking both of us. “I bet you would be if you tried my way.”
She shakes her head, looking very Little. How does my sweet girl not see herself as a Little?
“Nope. I like to do as I please.” She crosses her arms defiantly. Adorably. She even humphs.
I can’t help but chuckle again and squeeze her closer. I decide to change the subject. “Where were you working before you came here?”
“A café my friend Stella owns.”
“Ah. I bet she’s sorry to lose you.”
“Yes, but she knew this was a good job opportunity for me, so she’s happy for me.”
“Where were you living?”
“I had an apartment near the café. I ended my lease, put some things in storage, and made this giant move.”
I hold her hand against her thigh and rub the back of it with my thumb. “Kinda scary.”
She shrugs. “A little. But I’ve known Leah for a long time, so I didn’t come into this completely blind.”
“Good point. You’re obviously beyond qualified, your food is amazing, and your enthusiasm is contagious.” I grin at her.
“Thank you.” She sits up taller as she accepts the compliment. “Leah told me you played football in college.”
“Yep. Three years. I tore my ACL my junior year and that ended it for me. One of my teammates and best friends went pro though. Niko Giles. I haven’t seen him in years.” I should look him up soon. It’s been a long time since we’ve talked.
“What did you major in?”
“Horticulture,” I tell her.
“Oh, so you always enjoyed working outside with plants.”
“Yep. Even when I was a kid. I built an amazing garden for my mom growing up.”
“That’s so sweet.”
I hold her gaze for several seconds. God, I want to fast forward this relationship. Two days ago, I would have told anyone who asked that I didn’t want another Little or a woman at all. Now Amelia has me tied in knots and wrapped around her finger.
I take a deep breath. “So, we’re two slightly damaged people who are attracted to each other and a bit nervous about what to do next.”
“It doesn’t seem like you’re nervous,” she points out.
I lift both brows. “I’m beyond nervous.”
“Why?” She cocks her head to one side. “You seem so confident.”
“I am confident about how I feel, but I’m nervous about how long it’s going to take me to convince you to give me a chance, and I don’t want to say or do the wrong things.”
She bites her bottom lip again and squirms on my knee. “I thought Daddies were always certain about everything,” she teases.
“Daddies are human too. We want what’s best for naughty Little girls who think they know better.” I release her hand to tickle her tummy.
She giggles and bats at my hand. “I’m a grown adult, you know. I’ve survived just fine on my own for several years. I don’t need a Daddy.”
“Mmm. Needing and wanting something are very different. I don’t need a Little either, nor did I realize I even wanted one until I saw you working in the kitchen yesterday with that God-awful smell all around you.”
“You were so gruff. I thought I’d done something to anger you.” She bites her lip yet again.
I reach up and pluck the offended lip from between her lips. “I’m sorry I came on so strong. I was stunned by my reaction to you even before you looked my direction. There was something about the way you moved, the way your hair bounced around your shoulder…” I give a lock of it a tug.
She smiles.
“The way you were almost giddy about your job. Did you know you were smiling from ear to ear while you cleaned the kitchen?”
She shakes her head.
“You were. And I couldn’t breathe.”
“That’s because of the fumes.”
I chuckle. “It was because of you.” I tap her nose. “I used the fumes as an excuse to spin on my heels and get out of there as fast as possible so I could process my odd reaction on my own.”
“You were equally as surly when you came back,” she points out.
“You had bewitched me, imp. And then you wanted me to judge your muffins.” I gasp like the concept is horrifying.
“How will I know which ones to serve if you can’t be honest?”
“You’ll have to find someone else to be honest about your cooking, sweet girl. It’s never going to be me. You could serve me rocks with a side of dirt and I would swallow it politely and tell you it was delicious.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” I lean her back several inches, ensuring she doesn’t fall with a strong grip around her waist while I tickle her tummy again.
She’s laughing so hard she can’t catch her breath, and tears are running down her cheeks when I stop. But she’s so fucking cute my chest is tight.
I rub my thumb along her bottom lip. “I want to kiss you, Amelia,” I say in all seriousness.
“Okay,” she whispers.
I hold her gaze. I want to be sure she wants the same thing. “Ask me.”
“Ask you to kiss me?”
“Yes. Ask me.”
She glances at her lap and plays with an imaginary piece of lint on her jeans. “Can’t you just kiss me without making it an entire conversation?”
“Nope. I want to have your permission. I want to be sure you want it badly enough to ask for it.”
She lifts her gaze. There’s a slight lift at one corner of her lips. “Are you going to want me to ask for every single thing I want from you?”
I lift both brows. “Are there other things you want, sweet girl?”
She nods. “Of course, but I’d rather you just did them without demanding my consent each time.”