Niko
My girl is spooked. I have no idea what has upset her, but she’s wringing her fingers and shuffling her feet. I know she’s seconds from bolting into her bedroom.
I don’t want to make things worse, so I’ve decided to sit and ask her to come to me. She hasn’t complied yet. She’s staring at me, lips pursed, every inch of her fidgeting. “I don’t want to,” she whispers, lowering her gaze.
Even though I’m concerned about what’s upsetting her, I smile because I’m glad she’s starting to make choices for herself. I like this defiance. I want her to be able to say no to people, especially me. Not that I’d permit her to get away with being contrary in the long run, but right now she needs to learn that she’s not required to always do what someone tells her. And never when it would hurt her.
“Okay. Can you tell me why?”
She licks her lips. “Because when you touch me, I fall under your Daddy spell and can’t think.”
I chuckle. “I have a Daddy spell?”
She nods. “Yes, Sir.”
“Maybe you need some of that Daddy spell then. If you’re feeling anxious about something, maybe I can help.”
She shakes her head. “It’s a bad idea.” She sniffles and reaches up to swipe at tears that are falling. It breaks my heart.
I need to stay where I am and let her come to me. I must. “Brea, let Daddy help you.”
She sucks back a sob. “You don’t understand.”
“Explain it to me, Little one.” I keep my voice calm. Inside I’m a tornado, worried out of my mind.
She swallows. “I have a silly crush on you. It’s dumb. I shouldn’t have let myself get so invested. Every day I spend with you makes it worse.”
My heart is racing. I lean forward, putting my elbows on my knees. “I’m glad you have a crush on me, Brea. It’s not silly. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t feel that way about me. I’d be equally sad if you weren’t as invested as I am. If by worse you mean you feel stronger toward me every day, I’m glad about that too.”
She sniffles again. “You can’t possibly mean to stay though, and I’ll be very sad when you leave.”
“I’m not leaving you, kitten. Not ever. I don’t have all the answers about how we’re going to work out the future, but I intend to be with you no matter what we decide.”
She flinches, her gaze lifting. “You can’t know that. We’ve only known each other for two weeks.”
I smile. “I knew you were mine from the first moment I set eyes on you, Brea. I knew when you glanced at me from across the pool that first afternoon. I didn’t want to scare you by telling you too soon, but you’re my Little girl. I don’t care how long it takes for you to feel the same about me. I can wait weeks or months. Whatever you need. But I’ll be wherever you are while we work through this together.”
“I’m too much work,” she insists. “You’ll get tired of helping me.”
“Never. Not in a million years.” I’m emphatic. Please come to me, kitten. I need to hold her. I rub my palms together, willing her to take a step in my direction.
She shakes her head defiantly.
I need a new tactic. Perhaps she needs me to pick up my Daddy game. It’s worth a try. “Do you think Daddy is lying?”
She gasps. “No, Sir,” she murmurs.
“You’re being awfully willful, Little one. Do you need me to discipline you so you’ll know how much I care?” It’s a gamble, but it’s worth a try.
She blinks several times and takes a while to respond, doing so by nodding slowly.
I hold out a hand. “Come here, kitten,” I demand. I’m no longer making a request. I’m making a demand.
Finally, she shuffles forward until she’s close enough for me to reach. I take her hand and pull her between my legs. I set my palms on her hips. “Look at me, Brea.”
She lifts her gaze to meet mine.
“I’m extremely patient. You can challenge me every day, but I won’t change my mind. You’ll still be my Little girl. That’s how it works. Daddies don’t change their minds. No matter how many doubts you have, I’ll still be here to remind you I care.”
“You won’t though. Eventually, you’ll go home to Seattle, and I’ll be sad,” she whispers, so much defiance in her small voice. It’s a first for her. It won’t be the last time. I’m certain of it. I’m also glad. She’s finding her spunk. It’s healthy. If she were angelic all the time, I’d be concerned. She’s entitled to her own opinions, but she might find herself over my knee if she exercises some of them.
“I won’t go to Seattle without you. I promise.”
“But I don’t want to go to Seattle, Sir. I like it here. It’s the first place I’ve felt accepted. I have a job and friends here. I don’t like the city. It’s big and loud and scary.”
We certainly do have a problem. I hadn’t realized she felt so strongly about Blossom Ridge. “I don’t have all the answers, kitten, but we will figure things out together, okay? All we can do is take things one day at a time.”
She swipes at the tears slowly running down her face with the backs of her hands. “Every day I will fall harder for you, and eventually you’ll go home, and it will hurt. You said you have a job there.”
“I do. I manage a philanthropy, but it doesn’t require my constant involvement. I’ve been overseeing things from here just fine. I have plenty of staff doing the work.” I haven’t told her it’s a women’s shelter. I could, but now doesn’t feel like the time to go into details.
My heart is twisted in knots. She’s really scared. And her feelings are legitimate. I’m concerned now too. It’s true that I love my home and I spent several years turning it into a paradise, but this sweet girl in front of me has quickly become my life. She already holds a higher priority than anything material ever could.
I slide my hands up her arms and hold her biceps. “I need you to trust me, Brea. Trust Daddy to make the right decisions, whatever they may be. For now, I’m here at Blossom Ridge. I’m in no hurry to leave, and I would never do so without you. Not even for a night.”
It suddenly occurs to me that I’m done with letting her sleep in the cabin next to me. She’s mine, and I’m no longer going to be able to tolerate the separation.
I’ve been working on the spare bedroom in my cabin for several days. It’s ready for her. Starting tonight, I need her to be in my cabin where I can hear her and comfort her if she wakes up in the night.
First things first though. “I think you need a few swats to your bottom, Little one, to remind you Daddy’s serious.”
Her cheeks pinken, but she doesn’t argue.
I think she’s ready. I’ve seen her watching Leah and Amy get spanked with a mixture of envy and curiosity. It’s time.
I guide her around my knee so she’s standing to one side of me. “I’m not going to pull your pants down this first time, Brea, but in the future, I will. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispers. Already she’s calmer, so I know I’m doing the right thing.
“Do you understand why Daddy is going to spank you?”
She licks her lips. “Because I doubted you, Sir.”
“That’s right. Sometimes Little girls need to be disciplined so they know their Daddies care and won’t let them get all worked up over unwarranted negative thoughts.”
“Yes, Sir,” she murmurs.
“I’m going to take you over my knee and swat your bottom ten times and then your punishment will be over and I’ll hold you in my lap until you feel better.” I wait for her to nod before guiding her to lean over my knees.
She’s trembling as I get her situated, her arms tucked under her chest, her hands fisted alongside her breasts.
I push her dress up to her waist so I can spank her through just two layers of clothing—her leggings and her panties. I palm her bottom to get her used to the feel of my hand. She’s so small that my hand nearly covers every inch of her.
I wish I could pull her pants down to her thighs. I’d love to watch my work as I pinken her bottom, but she’s not ready for that. It could be a while before she’s able to let me see her naked.
My life has become an exercise in patience. I’m going to need a lot of it to ensure I don’t rush my Little girl. I want everything from her. I want to guide her and discipline her, but I also want to hold her naked in my arms and make sweet love to her when she’s ready.
“Ten swats, kitten. Ready?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispers in a very small voice.
“Good girl. Count them in your head.” I lift my palm and spank her right in the middle, including both cheeks. The first swat is hardly more than a love pat, but it’s enough to make her flinch. Not surprising. She has no idea what to expect.
The next spank lands on the left cheek, slightly harder. I do the same on the right before she can react.
She tenses, but she doesn’t try to squirm out of my grip. That’s a good sign. Not everyone likes to be spanked. Some people can’t tolerate it. Brea is holding her own so far.
I watch her closely. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her lips are pursed, but luckily I can see this because she’s facing toward me. “You okay, Little one? May I continue?”
“Yes, Sir,” she squeaks adorably.
I palm her bottom before landing three more swats, one to each cheek and one lower and centered. She gasps delightfully on that last one. In fact, her lips part when I do it again.
Now, I kind of wish I hadn’t limited myself to ten swats. I only have three left, and I need to make sure they have an impact because I can’t renege on my decision in the middle of spanking my Little girl.
I decide to go for the most vulnerable location, keeping the next two lower, one on each cheek where her bottom meets her thighs. The last one I land harder than the first nine right in the center again.
Brea is panting when I finish, and I rub her bottom for several seconds before gently lifting her to settle her on my lap. I palm the back of her head and guide her to settle her cheek against my shoulder.
She sniffles. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“I know you are, Little one. It’s all better now. All forgiven. Once Daddy finishes disciplining you, the slate is clean.” I rub her back. “How do you feel?”
She wiggles on my thighs. “My butt hurts.”
I chuckle. “Your bottom is supposed to hurt. It wouldn’t be a good punishment if it didn’t.”
She snuggles into me, making my heart warm, but also making my cock stiff as her thigh keeps brushing against my shaft. Eventually, I grip her hip. “Sit still, kitten. Stop squirming.”
“Sorry.” She wraps her arms around my neck and nuzzles me with her face. It feels so good to have her close to me like this again. I’ve forced myself to keep her at arm’s length for too many days. That may have contributed to her doubts. I’m done holding back my affection. Just like I’m done letting her sleep next door.
Now might not be the time to tell her though.
I rub her back, threading my fingers in her hair and dragging my hand through the soft strands until she purrs.
Eventually, she lifts her face from the crook of my neck and meets my gaze. Her gaze trails down to my lips, and she stares at them.
I suck in a breath. We haven’t kissed yet. Is now the right time?
When she licks her perfect lips again, I decide it is. “Would you like Daddy to kiss you, Little one?”
“Yes, Sir.” She shifts her attention to my eyes. “But I’ll probably do it wrong.”
I smile. “There’s no such thing as wrong, Brea. Nothing you do will ever be wrong. Kissing and every other aspect of sex is something you just follow your instincts about. Do whatever feels right. You’ll find out what you enjoy and do more of that. You’ll find out what you don’t care for and eliminate that aspect.”
“Okay.”
I slide my hand up her back and cup the back of her head, guiding her face toward mine.
If there had been even a single shred of doubt where my intentions were concerning Brea Hopson, they would have disappeared the instant her lips touch mine.
I become putty in her hands when her soft mouth makes contact with mine. She slides her palms to my cheeks at the same time, petting me as she tentatively kisses me.
I let her control the contact at first, enjoying the sweet innocence of her little pecks and nibbles. My heart melts. She’s mine. She was always mine, but damn.
When I lick the seam of her lips, she parts for me, her tongue darting out to touch mine ever so slightly. Every second of this kiss is precious. I want to commit it to memory.
God, I hope I’m doing the right thing. I’ve longed to kiss Brea from the moment I first met her. That longing has done nothing but grow over the days. Finally, I’ve tasted her. Unable to resist, I angle my head to the side and deepen the kiss, loving the way she moans into my mouth.
I’ll never get enough of her. Not in a million years.
When she grows more comfortable with the sweet kisses, I finally slide my tongue into her mouth, tasting her, stroking her tongue with mine, swallowing the soft, satisfied whimpers.
I wish I could kiss her for hours, but we need oxygen, so I reluctantly ease back, leaving us both panting.
A slow smile spreads across her face until she’s grinning from ear to ear. “I like kissing.”
I return the smile. “Thank goodness because I like kissing too.”
Her precious cheeks pinken. “Can we do that again sometime?”
“We can do that again all the time, kitten. I will never turn down your kisses.” I cup the back of her neck and massage the muscles there. I hate to break the spell, but I need my girl to eat. “We need to go to lunch, Little one.” I give her lips another peck. “Everyone has probably already eaten. I don’t want Amy to wait too long for us.”
Brea sits taller nodding. “Oh. I lost track of time. I hope she’s not mad.”
“I’m sure she isn’t. I don’t think Amy gets mad too often,” I tease. “She’s pretty easy going.” I set Brea on her feet, holding her hips to make sure she’s steady before releasing her to stand next to her and take her hand.
My cock is so hard. I need to get us out of here before she notices. I’m not going to be able to hide my body’s reaction to her forever, but I don’t want her to panic either. We’re a long way from me introducing her to my dick.
Luckily, Brea doesn’t say anything as I guide her out the door and up the path toward the main house. The last few guests are finishing up and leaving the kitchen as we enter.
“I’m so sorry we’re late,” Brea tells Amy. “We were…talking, and…” She glances at me, her face bright red.
I pull her into my side as Amy waves a hand dismissively. “Not a problem at all. I haven’t even started cleaning up, and even if I had, I would have fixed you a plate and left it in the warmer. It’s okay if you’re not here exactly during every mealtime.”
I grab Brea around the waist and lift her to sit her on one of the barstools at the huge island. “How about if we eat here at the island?”
She wiggles in her seat. “Okay.”
I palm her lower back. “Stop squirming or you’ll fall.”
She shivers. “Yes, Sir.”
I leave her to pour myself a glass of tea, setting it at the spot next to her before deciding to fill a sippy cup for her. Today is a good day to try something new. No one is around except Amy in case she feels uncertain. This is the perfect meal to amp up my Daddy skills.
“Milk or water?” I ask her, holding up the sippy cup.
“Water please,” she responds without questioning my choice in cups.
I fill the cup, twist on the lid, and set it in front of her before I fix her a bowl of broccoli cheddar soup and then make her a sandwich. I’ve made her a sandwich before, so I know what she likes, but I double-check anyway. “Turkey, Swiss, and lettuce. No condiments, right?”
She smiles at me. “Thank you.” Her voice is soft. I know having someone wait on her is a new concept. She’s spent her entire life waiting on other people. I think she’s getting used to it, and I love the way it makes her blush.
“All set, kitten?” I ask as I put her sandwich on a plastic plate and scoot it close to her.
“Yep. Thank you, Sir.” She waits for me, not lifting her spoon until I’m settled on the stool next to her.
“Eat, Little one,” I tell her as I set a hand on her thigh.
I love how she jumps a bit when I squeeze her knee.
Amy scurries around us while we eat, first cleaning the kitchen and then making preparations for dinner. She chitchats while she works, telling us how many guests are expected next week and what meals she’s adding to the menu. She loves her job, and it’s obvious to everyone around.
When we finish, I take our plates to the sink, rinse them, and set them in the open dishwasher. I spin around to find Brea drinking the rest of her water, both hands on the sippy cup. She looks so natural and comfortable. Good. I hope she’s ready for what I have planned for the rest of the afternoon.
I return to lift her off the stool and set her on the floor, patting her bottom to get her to move toward the back door. “Let’s go, kitten. We have things to do.”
She hasn’t told anyone what we do together when we’re alone. I’m pretty sure they all think we’re intimately involved. I’m not sure if that’s occurred to Brea, but I’m certainly not going to breathe a word about our private life to anyone, not even Foster. He’s one of my closest friends, but my allegiance lies with Brea now. It’s her choice what she wants people to know or think.
I guide her to my cabin and then point toward the kitchen table where she always works after lunch. “Math first, kitten. Start the next chapter about fractions.” We will eventually move on to science and social studies, but I want her reading comprehension to be higher before we add those subjects. We will get there. She’s smart and hardworking. In no time, she will have the confidence to start studying for her GED.
Brea glances at me as we reach the table and I pull out her usual chair. She giggles. “You added a booster seat?”
“Yep. You’ll be able to reach better, shorty,” I tease as I lift her onto the pink and purple booster and push her up to the table. “How’s that?”
She grins. “I think it’s good.” She reaches for her workbook and pencil. “Yep. Much better. Thank you, Daddy.” When she tips her head back, her face is radiant. She likes the addition. Good.
I can’t resist the urge to lean down and kiss her. Our first kiss happened an hour ago before lunch, but I’m going to want to touch those soft lips with mine often, even if it’s only briefly.
She smiles contentedly as she opens her math book.
I sit at the end of the table and open my computer to work on my construction plans. In addition to the basement room I’ve been working on since I arrived, there’s a second unfinished room I’m contemplating for my second project. If it weren’t for meeting Brea and my life taking a different path than expected, I might have gotten the one room done and moved on. But I’m in no hurry to finish here now. In fact, I need to slow down. There is no rush. Roman—the owner—doesn’t have a specific timeline in mind. Nor does Craig.
What I have planned for the first, larger room is going to make the Littles squeal in delight when they find out. I can’t keep it a secret forever, but I do intend to finish the walls and floors before I head to Seattle to arrange for the delivery of what will be the contents of the room.
There’s no way for the girls to figure out what that room is going to be in the end. If any of them roamed around in the space and knew what they were looking at, the only thing that would raise eyebrows would be the rewiring to include extensive electrical outlets all along the walls.
I haven’t gotten to the posts I’m going to install in the center of the room with more outlets. When I get to that part, the questions will start in earnest. Roman, Craig, Foster, and I are the only ones who know what I’m planning though. None of them will breathe a word, which means the Littles will just have to wait and see.
Brea sighs, jerking my attention in her direction. “What’s the matter, kitten?”
Her brows are furrowed. “I’m frustrated. Fractions are stupid.”
I keep from chuckling but just barely. I’m certain stupid isn’t a word Brea used before she moved here. It’s cute when she says it. I should probably reprimand her, but I can’t bring myself to do so. Her language is cleaner than anyone I’ve ever met. She’s never uttered a four-letter word. I don’t have the heart to correct her when she uses tame words like stupid.
I shove my laptop to the side and drag her workbook closer so I can see what she’s working on. It’s time for a hands-on math lesson. I scoot from the table and head for the pantry, returning moments later with a bag of goldfish crackers.
Brea frowns. “I don’t think it’s snack time.”
I chuckle. “Nope. Fraction time.” I dump a bunch of them onto the table and make piles while she watches. I point at the first fraction on the page. “Let’s start with this one.”
Brea’s eyes light up as I demonstrate four-fifths and then three-tenths before moving on to more complicated fractions. She catches on immediately and then pops a goldfish in her mouth as she drags the workbook back in front of her and leans close to finish the assignment.
I watch her closely because I can’t tear my gaze off her. She’s a joy to watch when she’s learning new things. She gets so excited. It’s a pleasure to witness. Her legs are swinging under the table and her hair falls in soft waves around her face.
I’ve wanted to put her hair up in pigtails or braids since I first arrived. I’ve bided my time introducing her to new aspects of age play, but this afternoon I’m about to add several things. That’s going to be one of them. After her nap.
“Ta-da,” she announces victoriously when she’s done. I don’t have to check her work. I know it’s right. I’ve been watching her mind work.
“Excellent, kitten. I’m proud of you. I have something for you too.” I push to standing and shuffle over to a drawer in the kitchen where I’ve been keeping my next surprise.
When I return, Brea’s brows are furrowed in puzzlement. “What’s that, Daddy?”
“A sticker chart.” I set it in front of her. A large piece of paper with rows and columns. I set the sheet of gold stars down next. “Did your parents ever give you a sticker chart when you were young?”
She shakes her head. “No. What’s it for?”
I hand her a black marker and tap the first cell on the first row. “Write math in this cell and then each day when you finish your math, you get to put a gold star in the box under that day.”
She grins and tries to hand me the marker back. “You write it, Daddy, so it will look nice.”
I shake my head. “Nope. It’s your chart. You can fill in the categories in each row.”
She’s hesitant about her handwriting, but it’s improving every day too. It’s really not bad at all, but she takes her time to make each word perfect, so it takes her a while. She doesn’t like to write in front of other people.
She frowns. “It won’t be pretty if I do it.”
“That’s not true. Everything you touch is pretty. In fact, I think you have an eye for fashion and design.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “You do?”
“Yes. Look at the pretty clothes you picked out. I’ve also noticed you’re a perfectionist when it comes to setting the table, lining up the silverware, and folding the napkins. You always make the table aesthetically pleasing to the guests with the perfect centerpieces and arrangement of dishes. If your handwriting is bothering you, I’ve got some lined paper we can use to improve it. All you need is practice, kitten.”
“Do you really think I could fix it? You don’t think I’m too old?”
“Not at all.” It hurts my heart that she thinks that. I hadn’t realized she was avoiding handwriting because she didn’t think she could improve it.
Her face lights up. “Really? You know what I’d love to be able to do?”
“What’s that, kitten?” I want the world for her.
“Calligraphy. It’s so pretty. When Leah writes, it’s so pretty and swirly. The only thing I can do in cursive is my name, and it took me a lot of practice to be able to do that. I had to sign things to get a job. I didn’t want Stella at the café to know I couldn’t write well.”
I slide a hand down her head and squeeze her neck. “I’m so sorry, kitten. We’ll add that to our list starting tonight.” My chest is tight. Brea is like a sparrow with a broken wing—just as Craig told me when I first arrived. Watching her mend and bloom is the greatest pleasure in my life.
She’s going to blossom like a bouquet of roses over time, and then what? A sudden worry fills me that she might not need me anymore after she becomes confident and independent. I shake the thought from my head. I can’t see the future, and it won’t change anything.
I would never hold Brea back for any reason. She’s going to learn everything she wants. She’s like a sponge. I predict a year from now she will be a force to be reckoned with. Unstoppable. She could go to college and become anything she wants.
I’m still holding the marker out to her. “For now, MATH. Later, we’ll add others.”
“What goes across the top?”
“The days of the week. S-M-T-W-T-F-S.”
“Ah. Okay. I can do that.” Her tongue comes to the corner of her mouth as she concentrates on those seven capital letters, and then she carefully writes math before I hand her a sticker.
“I love it,” she declares as she shoves her chair back and jumps down to the floor to throw her arms around me. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Whoa there, kitten. Be careful,” I say as I wrap my arms around her and hug her against me. “Let Daddy lift you down from the booster seat next time.”
She tips her head back. “It’s not that high, silly.”
I stroke the back of her head. “Nope. It’s not about height though, kitten. It’s about me taking care of you. I enjoy lifting you up by the hips to set you on the seat. I want you to start letting me do more things for you. Is that okay, kitten?”
She nods. “I think so. It’s just strange. I’m not used to anyone doing things for me or even noticing me at all. I probably started taking care of myself when I was about three. I don’t even remember a time when my mother dressed me or gave me a bath or even rocked me. Already I had two younger siblings. I used to think about that when I would give my brothers and sisters a bath or help them dress. Did anyone ever do those things for me? I guess I was too young to remember.”
It hurts my soul that she was never coddled and cared for. I want to make up for that. “Will you let me do those things for you now, kitten?” It’s a big step, but I’m hoping she’s ready.
“I’ll try, Daddy.”