Page 14
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
J ohnny’s whispered words were sweet caresses on Isolde’s body and soul. Each one slid down her skin in a delicious silky-smooth sensation. Although she didn’t move from under the showerhead where he’d put her, she couldn’t resist glancing up. The rushing stream distorted his handsome face and mesmerizing blue eyes, but it was enough for her, especially when he placed his hands, large and strong on her shoulders, and slowly discarded her tattered top and what was left of her bra.
This was the first time she’d offered herself, so completely, to a man, and through her shyness and curiosity about what he’d do next, she lowered her eyes to see herself. She might be a little nervous, but her taut nipples stood fully peaked in a clear declaration of her unspoken desire.
Holding a finger to her chin, Johnny tilted her face up. The pouring water forced her to blink repeatedly.
“I don’t know…”
“This is all new, right?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to keep your eyes open and on me and what I do at all times, princess. Those are my instructions. Watch everything. See how I caress and explore your beautiful body, how I love and possess it.”
“Should I?—”
“Do nothing unless I tell you. My job is to give you pleasure, and yours is to feel and enjoy where I take you. Don’t hold anything back. I want to hear you scream when you come. Understand me?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He kissed her forehead. “Is there anything on your mind?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Tell me, baby.”
Johnny had opened the door for her and she was going to walk right through. Yes, she had something on her mind. A special need. So she blurted it out.
“I want to see all of you too. I want to touch you. Know you.”
Dropping his head back, he released a hearty laugh. His sexy throat bobbed, and sinewed tendons on his neck shifted. Isolde’s clit twitched, and her mouth watered with the need to kiss and explore such abrawny display. Unable to help herself, she touched him with her fingertips. On contact, a feeling close to a shock traveled through her.
“Curious?” Grasping her hand, he pressed his lips to it.
“Yes.”
“Then feel this.”
Lowering her hand, Johnny placed it on a part of him that had a velvety soft surface, yet was hard and hot. Instinctively, she knew what he’d done and what she touched. She goggled. Jutting out of his open fly, his cock jerked. Thick, stiff, and larger than she’d imagined, his shaft rested on her small palm.
“Oh my.”
“You can play with it,” he crooned against her forehead. “Get to know it well, baby. Soon enough, I’m going to tell you to take it in your mouth.”
“Now?”
“So eager.” He chuckled “Not now, baby. First, I have to pamper you. Wash your hair and soap you all over. Hold on to me, step out of your jeans, and open your legs. Give me access to your sweet pussy.”
His words had put her under such a spell, she hadn’t noticed that her sodden jeans and panties sat by her ankles. He’d pushed them down somehow. In a moment, his soapy hand slipped between her legs. His gentle fingers fondled and pulled apart her inner labia, searching for her sheath’s opening. He found it and tapped lightly.
“Hmmm, I’ll make this pussy red, swollen, and dripping. But only after it’s rinsed well.” Cupping his hand, he picked up warm water to splash on her folds. “All soap must be gone. We don’t want this delicate skin irritated.”
The intimacy was raw and unique. Something about his explanation and gestures of ownership felt debauched, obscene, and delicious. He’d opened a new door for her, and she surrendered all hesitation to his expert care. Wherever Johnny wanted to go, she’d follow with eyes closed. Still, she protested when he turned her around and she had to release his cock.
“Hush. I’m doing your hair. My dick’s not going anywhere.”
“So infuriating, so…” She froze, unable to say another word. Johnny brought her against his massive form, while his fingers slipped through her hair to massage her scalp. He shampooed her hair, knowing exactly what she needed and what would make this experience feel so heavenly. She sighed, floating in relaxed ecstasy.
“You like?”
“Mmm, yes,” she replied, basking in the glorious sensation of his able fingers lifting and moving her hair this way and thatas he carefully rinsed the shampoo, then finger-combed conditioner to her ends and rinsed again. “You do that so well.”
Without comment, he turned her to face him. To her surprise, his clothes were gone and now his bare torso gleamed under the water. The tribal tattoos on his muscular shoulders, biceps, and chest danced with the movement of his arms. God, he was so magnificent, so beautiful. She’d never tire of looking at him.
“Close your eyes,” he said. “The final touch is the hand shower. I’m spraying you top to bottom.”
When he finished and shut off the water, she almost sobbed. She could have stayed this way forever. Suddenly, he wrapped her in a large towel from shoulders to knees, and her focus changed. He cradled her in his arms as if she were a swaddled baby and took her out of the stall. The little girl in Isolde rejoiced. Not even in her earliest memories had she ever been cared for, cosseted, or pampered this way.
Johnny carried her to a chair in his room, then slowly sat her down. “Stay as you are. Don’t move an inch.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He padded away, leaving drops and wet footprints on the floor while giving her an unforgettable display of steely flexing buttocks, muscular legs, and defined, wide torso with beautiful tattoos. He’d dried by the time he returned, but kept a towel around his hips and another turbaned high around his hair, giving him an exotic air. He tossed a blow-dryer on the bed and produced a second towel, which he quickly used to blot her long tresses.
“New lesson in trust. Relax and let go. We both have long hair.” He smiled. “I know what I’m doing.”
In a hundred years, she could never have explained the way he gently separated her tresses with his fingers and directed the dryer on low heat, ensuring no tangles formed. The warmth added a luxuriant aura to the process, and as her hair dried completely, the urge to be touched and explored by Johnny overcame her every thought.
“Tell me. Exactly.” His lips touched her earlobe.
“I want your hands on me. Touch me.”
He pulled the towel from her body. “Where? Show me.”
She leaned back and locked her gaze with his. Though heat suffused her cheeks, she slowly opened her legs. “My clit.”
“Yes. That’s my girl.”
“It’s twitching.”
“Play with it. I want to see how you please yourself.”
Isolde’s face burned between shyness and the need to obey his command. Sliding her hips forward on the chair, she fondled her throbbing nub up and down.
“I’ll help you.”
Johnny spread her labia ever so gently. She shivered. Her arousal magnified when he lifted her right knee off the chair, splaying her sex even wider.
“You have the prettiest pussy, baby girl, and I’m going to eat it whole.” He moved fast. In a moment, he took her from the chair to the bed. He stood at the edge, his aroused cock tenting the towel making an amazing image as his gaze slowly took her in.
“You.” She pointed at his erection.
“This?” He studied himself. “Not me. You make me hard. Bend your legs and drop your knees to the sides.”
As soon as she obeyed, he discarded the towel, positioned his shoulders between her feet, then buried his face in her sex.
Every part of his face was an instrument of sensuality and arousal. Nothing was left unused. Each one excited her in different and new ways. The tender assault of his chin to her mons, his nose burrowing and searching through her folds seeking her essence, his lips and teeth suckling and nibbling her clit without pause. Finally, his tongue invaded her sheath, and she spiraled to unfamiliar regions. She was caught in a whirlwind of excitement. Out of the depths of her consciousness, the climax rolled out like a wave, and she bucked her hips against him to bring it on.
“Not yet.” He lifted his head, arresting the wave’s momentum. Her juices mixed with his saliva glistened erotically on his face.
“But…”
“I said not yet.”
With that, he crawled up to meet her eyes close up. He kissed her nose. “I love you.” Changing directions, he kissed her cheeks and forehead. “I love you.”
“And I you,” she murmured, overwhelmed with his passionate tenderness. There was nothing weak or soft about her biker Daddy. Same as his personality, his love was fierce and intense.
“Give me your mouth.” He took it without waiting for her response. Gently, he impregnated what was left of her musky flavor on her taste buds as his tongue probed and caressed her depths.
“Do you like how you taste?”
“I’ve never…”
“I know.” He grinned. “It’s all new, but do you like your taste?”
Lord, she did. She loved her flavor and what he was making her do. Nodding, she whispered, “I do.”
“Good.” Johnny moved to her side, then rolled her onto her belly. He massaged her shoulders, kissed her lower back, and nibbled on her butt cheeks. “You’re so beautiful and precious. I’ll never get tired of loving you, baby doll. I’m going to show you all kinds of naughty things, and we’re going to have a lot of fun.”
Grasping her hips, he lifted Isolde to her knees. Following her instincts, she propped herself on her elbows as he settled himself close behind. The hair on his legs brushed and caressed the backs of her thighs. She stiffened a little when his cock nudged her.
“Naughty things like these.” Bending over her, he whispered in her ear. At the same time, he moved a butt cheek aside to slide his cock down her crack and to her pussy. The subservience of this position heightened her excitement with a stark new awareness. She was a submissive and desired to be handled, to revel in his dominance. When she wiggled her ass, asking for more, he lightly pinched her flesh.
“I knew you’d like this. You’re a Little and a natural submissive. Don’t worry. My cock will fill your ass too. You’re going to feel me everywhere. You’re mine, Isolde. Do you hear me?”
“Yes! And you’re mine too, Daddy.”
“Fuck, you bet I am. Now, turn over.”
Surprised at his stark command, she hesitated a moment. He slapped her thigh, and she rolled onto her back. His mouth fell on her clit again. This time, he ravaged her nub. He bit hard and pulled at it, causing the wave of climax she’d suppressed to roll out. Nothing could stop it now. Her sheath pulsed wildly, and her body jerked with the intensity of the oncoming release.
“That’s it. Come, now. Give it to me.”
Isolde arched and gasped as one wave after another burst through her sex and rippled out to her limbs and chest. Kneeling between her legs, Johnny ripped a condom packet open with his teeth, then rolled it down his shaft. He lifted her hips, positioned his crown to her opening, and, with a single thrust, impaled his cock to the end of her core. A surprise stab of pain and ecstatic pleasure combined in her mind and soul. As he pumped in and out of her, she shouted her pleasure as she flew into mindless bliss.
A thunderous crash above the house broke into a hazy dream, and Isolde sat up. “What was that?”
“The storm is still around us,” Johnny murmured next to her. He pulled her down to his chest. “You dozed off, and so did I. ”
“The rain is beating really hard at the windows. I thought it would’ve passed us by now.”
“We had a short break, but it started again a little while ago. I’m pretty certain everything’s buttoned up, but I want to take a peek at the windows. It’s windy out, and I don’t want surprises. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
“I won’t.” Giving him space to move, she snuggled against a pillow.
Johnny walked to his chest of drawers. He searched through the one at the top, took out a pair of boxer shorts, and quickly put them on before going out to the house. The process struck her funny bone. Why go through all that when there was no one else in the place? Maybe he’d find something that would force him to go outside. Didn’t hurt to be prepared.
Yawning, she turned onto her other side. A sticky feeling between her thighs sparked her curiosity. Leaning on an elbow, she lifted the cover. Blood stains had dried between her legs and on the sheets.
Johnny laughed from the doorway. “I think you’ll find this interesting. Did you know that not long ago, blood stains like those were priceless?”
“Huh?”
“Yup,” he said, walking into the room. “Stains similar to those were considered proof of a woman’s virginity. Kingdoms rose and fell because of their presence or absence.” He winked.
“Do all women bleed when they lose their virginity?”
He shook his head. “Not all do.”
“You seem to know a lot about this stuff.”
“History was a favorite subject. I found itfascinating how a little bit of blood could mean so much. It was so important that highborn women who’d fooled around before marriage would get blood from a chicken or some animal, with the help of her loyal maid, of course, and sprinkle it on her marriage bed, proving to her deluded husband that he was the first to pluck her on their wedding night.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Women have come a long way, baby girl. I, for one, am glad we don’t have to go through that nonsense anymore.”
“Fascinating.”
“You should read up on it. Things we take for granted today didn’t always exist. There were no paternity tests, and lines of succession rode on the wife’s purity. A heavy load to carry, if you ask me. Totally unfair.”
“So it was really all about power.”
“Exactly.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Once the wife got pregnant and delivered a legitimate heir, she could fool around all she wanted.”
“You surprise me.”
“Well, I’m not just an illiterate biker. I’ve done my fair share of reading.”
“Daddy, I would never call you an illiterate biker.”
“Not you, sweetheart. Folks in general see our outward appearance and make assumptions. Now I need to take you to the shower and change the sheets. I already have a load of wash going. We’ll sleep in the other bedroom tonight.”
“Gah. The shower? I can do it by myself.”
“No, baby girl. I’m taking you. It’ll be a quick one, with the manual handle. I have to rinse you off.”
“It’s all right. I can do it on my own.”
She blinked at him. He stared her down. “You’re arguing with Daddy.”
“I… It’s just… I’m not disabled, you know.”
He frowned. “This has nothing to do with your ability to do things or not. It’s my job to wash you after we have sex. I’m doing it, and you’re giving me a hard time, which brings unpleasant consequences.” His voice turned hard. “For you. What’s it going to be?”
Isolde swallowed with new awareness and further context. No matter what, he would win this one and all future contests of this kind. He was determined to take care of her, and she’d given him this power.
Willingly.
Sighing, she took his hand and obediently walked to the stall. He handled her with gentle ease. What she thought would be another big production didn’t happen. He thoroughly sprayed her crotch and legs with the manual shower, then dried her and was finished in seconds.
“See? Easy peasy. Let’s get you dressed. Then you can wait for me in the kitchen.”
“Why? Where are you going?”
“I have to strip the bed.”
To Isolde, the explanation would’ve been normal if Sydney or Opal had said it. Not this imposing man. She couldn’t imagine a single guy in the MC, including her father, tackling household chores. Nope. They wouldn’t know what to do if you gave them a broom and a dustpan. She had a lot to learn about Daddies. They were a unique species unto themselves.
Johnny looked through her few pieces of clothing. She’d obeyed his instructions and hadn’t packed much.
“This is perfect,” he said, holding up white panties and a set of matching shorts with a short-sleeved top. The material had a cute design of berries with flowers, and she wore it often in the privacy of her bedroom.
Never outside.
He sat on the bed and waved at her. “Come to me.”
The age regression came unbidden. Isolde turned eight years old in that moment. Her mind returned to pre-puberty years, and she saw herself as she once was: skinny, shorter, and sexually undeveloped, waiting for her new Daddy to help her dress. And he did. Whether he sensed her regression or not, she couldn’t tell. Without flinching, he kept up with her as he helped her with the panties, helped her step into her shorts, then slipped down her top.
“There,” he said. “You’re all dressed and pretty. Now be a good girl, go to the kitchen, and wait for Daddy. Stay away from the stove and the fridge. You don’t have permission to do anything on your own. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Good. I’ll make us something to eat. You must be hungry.” Grasping her shoulders, he turned her around, then lightly tapped her butt. “Go. I’ll bring Mr. Bubbles.”
The soft squeal of happiness that escaped her lips was the most natural thing in the world. She didn’t find it weird or think twice about it as she shuffled side to side to the kitchen. He made everything natural for her. Daddy gave her the freedom to give wings to all the carefully hidden parts of herself. The Little no one, not even Sydney, had sensed or discovered because Isolde had been so careful. She could weep with happiness.
She got to the kitchen and, remembering her Daddy’s instructions, pulled out a chair and sat, prepared to wait like the good little girl she was and who he loved.
Johnny’s throat tightened as he watched Isolde playfully shuffle to the kitchen. He flopped onto the edge of the bed, his thoughts swirling. From the moment Blade asked for volunteers to protect the Dalton chapter, events had moved at breakneck speed, and Johnny had barely had a moment to take in and analyze every stunning development.
Setting aside the concern about the lingering danger to Isolde and himself, their strange situation, and all the work waiting for him to convince Deacon he was the right man for his daughter, Johnny gave himself a few seconds to rejoice. The sheets could wait.
For sure, he was the luckiest man alive. Not only did Isolde return his emotions in equal measure, but the most significant sign of her trust in him was her regression of moments ago. In most situations, Littles were skittish. A natural sense of self-protection suppressed the most beautiful aspect of their personality. She’d entered her eight- or nine-year-old age without hesitation. He supposed this was her preferred Little age and would keep it in mind for the future. Whenever she needed to enter her age, he would encourage, protect, and cherish her regression. That was also his job, one he hadn’t discussed with her yet.
Making love to her had been magical, had moved him to the core of his being. The pleasure and satisfaction he’d experienced watching her come apart in his arms surpassed anything he’d ever known. His climax had been unique and mind-blowing. Was this a sign of things to come between them?
Lord above, he hoped so. He was tired of stumbling around an aimless existence. He’d found the love of his life and his purpose and was prepared to fight to the end to hold on to both. Coming to this safehouse had been a blessing for them both, and he was going to take advantage of every private minute he could have with Isolde.
Fuck Deacon. Isolde was his. Period.
His phone buzzed on the night table. Picking it up, he opened Barron’s message and chuckled. Speak of the devil.
Deacon Lennox and the Dalton crew are here.
Better you than me.
Fuck you. LOL I’ll keep you informed. All’s well?
J: Sure is.
Cool. TTYL
Johnny put his phone down and turned his mind to more mundane matters. He stripped the bed sheets into a ball and strode to the laundry.
“I’ll be there in a second, baby,” he called to Isolde.
“Yes, Daddy,” she answered.
Life just didn’t get any better than this.