Page 12 of Melt For Us, Daddy (Big Daddy Energy #4)

Cordelia

H er poor babygirl. Always holding herself to a much higher standard than anyone else would ever dream of.

It killed her, knowing how badly Ivy craved that level of worship. Knowing that the one thing her girl thrived on was the one thing she couldn’t give her yet.

God knew she wanted to. While most stone tops were perfectly content to remain stone, Cordelia wanted to melt for Ivy.

Wanted to give her babygirl that piece of herself she’d never given another living soul of her own free will.

Not just because Ivy so clearly wanted it, but because she found herself dreaming of what it would feel like to finally feel her babygirl’s hands, her tongue exploring every inch of her body.

That hidden desire for another’s touch was why she’d never felt entirely comfortable claiming the title of stone top, but it had always been the easiest way to explain her limits to her partners.

But as much as she wanted to give Ivy that piece of her, tonight wasn’t the right time. Not when they were both still so shaken by their fight. When she did melt, she wanted to be in exactly the right headspace for it, which she decidedly was not just then.

Instead, she’d focus on her babygirl. On reminding her exactly who she belonged to and what a good, good girl she actually was.

She stripped Ivy’s top from her, leaving her girl completely bare to her gaze as Cordelia grinned up at her. “Lie down for me, blossom.”

Wiggling off Cordelia’s lap, Ivy stretched out on the couch, exposing herself even more. “Like this, Ma’am?”

“Exactly like that, baby. My pretty little girl, all laid out for me like a buffet. But I think you’re missing something.”

Ivy’s lip moved into a pout. “What am I missing?”

“You let me worry about that. Stay right there.”

Leaving her girl to wonder about what she might be up to, Cordelia made her way to the bedroom they’d converted into her office-slash-closet and grabbed her play bag from where she kept it stored in the corner of her office.

It wasn’t actually a bag, but a cosmetics case she’d converted for her own personal use.

Opening the case, she pulled open a drawer and plucked a shiny pair of silver clamps free, along with a silk blindfold and one of Ivy’s favorite toys.

“Close your eyes, blossom,” she instructed when she returned to the living room with her prizes in hand.

“What are you up to?” Despite the open curiosity in her tone, Ivy’s eyes were obediently closed when Cordelia reached the couch.

Grinning down at her babygirl, she set the clamps and the toy aside. “Didn’t I tell you to let me worry about that, little girl?”

Ivy let out a little huff of breath as Cordelia slid the blindfold over her eyes. “So I can’t ask questions now?”

Clearly her girl was feeling more like herself, playful sass and all.

Without answering her, Cordelia picked up the first clamp, squeezing so the jagged teeth parted like a small crocodile’s mouth.

Her babygirl’s nipples were still plenty hard from her earlier teasing, so she moved the clip to Ivy’s breast.

And let it snap shut around her girl’s nipple.

“Oh!” With a loud gasp, Ivy arched up off the couch. “Oh, oh, it hurts! Dee, please!”

“Poor baby.” Faux sympathy dripped from her words as Cordelia picked up the second clamp. “Do you want me to make it better, blossom?”

They’d been together long enough for Ivy to understand not just the words but the tone, and the dangerous intent lurking beneath both. Going perfectly still, she dragged in a deep breath. “Y-yes, Ma’am. Please.”

“My good girl,” Cordelia crooned as she snapped the second clamp on her babygirl’s nipple. “You look so pretty when you take what I give you.”

“Th-thank you, Ma’am.”

Picking up the toy she’d retrieved from her case, Cordelia dragged just the tip down the inside of Ivy’s thigh, chuckling softly when her girl instinctively raised her hips, a silent plea for more. “Do you remember what I told you at the club, baby? About what I was going to do after we talked?”

Again Ivy went still, and even with the blindfold on, Cordelia swore she could see her brain working overtime. “You said you were going to remind me what it means to wear your collar.”

“That’s right, baby. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Ivy

Fear, need, excitement, and a dozen other emotions flooded her system, setting every nerve ending on alert as Cordelia continued to tease her with the toy. She couldn’t see it, but the hard, blunt head trailing over her skin was clearly a cock of some kind, she just wasn’t sure which one it was.

“Up on your knees, babygirl. Let me see that pretty bottom all covered with my marks.”

Whimpering softly, Ivy shifted, rolling carefully onto her stomach so she could present herself as instructed. Chest and arms pressed against the couch, she lifted her ass in the air, putting all the most sensitive parts of herself on display.

“If I know my girl, you took a shower at Frankie and Holden’s place before leaving for work. Didn’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Which means this sweet little asshole is nice and clean for me.”

Heat rushed to Ivy’s face at the implication. After years of being in the lifestyle, there were few things that truly embarrassed her any longer.

What Cordelia planned to do was one of them.

But the embarrassment only seemed to feed her own growing need. Submitting, especially when it was difficult or embarrassing or downright painful was what she craved. Giving herself over to another person so completely that her own pleasure was secondary to letting herself be conquered, claimed.

Owned .

The necklace around her neck seemed to grow even heavier as Cordelia’s tongue traced teasing little patterns over the exposed skin of Ivy’s bottom.

Cordelia’s plan was working—never before had Ivy felt the weight of her collar so keenly, so deeply , and she knew she would remember this night for a very long time.

“Mmm. You smell so good, blossom. Almost as good as you taste.”

Pleasure rocketed through Ivy’s veins as Cordelia slid her tongue deep into her pussy, hitting all the right spots as she fucked Ivy with her tongue. With another soft whimper, Ivy pushed her hips back, desperate for more of that brain-scrambling pleasure.

And she was rewarded with the gentle vibration of Cordelia’s chuckle as she slid her tongue down to Ivy’s clit, teasing the sensitive little bundle of nerves with soft flicks and strokes of that wicked appendage.

All too soon, however, Cordelia changed course, dragging her tongue up between Ivy’s bottom cheeks to her puckered hole. Ivy immediately tensed at that first probing touch, and again her entire being vibrated with her woman’s laughter.

“Open for me, baby. Just relax and let me in.”

With another soft whimper, Ivy forced her muscles to relax. It was difficult when she was feeling so vulnerable with all of her bits on display and her sight restricted from the blindfold. But it was what her woman demanded of her, so she would obey.

That thought alone was enough to have her bottom unclenching as Cordelia’s tongue pressed against her hole again.

And with every swipe of her woman’s tongue, every teasing little probing touch, she gave herself over to Cordelia’s demands, until she was nothing more than a writhing puddle of submissive goo.

“Dee, please,” she whined, pushing her hips back against Cordelia's tongue. “Please. I need you.”

“Oh, my sweet girl. You already have me. But if it’s my cock you’re wanting…”

The tip that speared her was thicker than she’d expected and Ivy let out a low moan as it stretched her pussy open. She was so caught up in the painful pleasure of it, she almost missed the sound of a plastic bottle top being opened.

Cool liquid poured over her bottom hole and a moment later the second head of the toy Cordelia held pushed past that tight ring of muscle.

As often as they played, and as enamored as Cordelia was with putting things in her ass, it didn’t take much for Ivy to accommodate the slender toy as Cordelia slowly worked it inside her.

“That’s my good girl.” Cordelia’s praise washed over Ivy as the toy settled inside her, stretching both her pussy and her bottom, filling her up so completely she could barely think.

Between the toy inside her, the blindfold blocking her sight, and the clamps still squeezing her nipples, she was overcome. “How do you feel, blossom?”

“Sore. Full. Need… need you,” Ivy managed to pant through the overwhelming rush of sensation.

“I know, baby. You need me to fuck this little pussy and this tight little asshole, don’t you, baby?

” As she spoke, Cordelia did exactly that, pulling the toy slowly from Ivy’s holes and then pushing it in again.

“You need me to remind you exactly who these filthy holes belong to. Isn’t that right, Ivy Mae? ”

More pain, more humiliation, more unbearable pleasure. “Yes, Ma’am!”

“Good. You’re going to come for me, blossom, and you aren’t going to hold a goddamn thing back from me.

You are going to come for me, and then you’re going to come for me again.

And again. And when you think you can’t possibly bear another second of it, you’re going to come at least one more time. Do you know why, baby?”

Though she already knew the answer in her bones, she wanted to hear her woman say it. Needed that verbal confirmation like she needed air. “Why, Ma’am?”

Cordelia’s voice dropped to a low growl. “Because you are mine , Ivy Mae. And I’m going to make damn sure you don’t ever forget it again.”

The toy slammed into both her holes, tearing a shocked cry from Ivy’s throat as pain and pleasure melded together inside her.

The first orgasm ripped through her, and she instinctively clenched around the toy cocks filling her, adding more of both pleasure and pain to the swirling cocktail flooding her veins.

And as promised, her woman didn’t stop there. Sliding a hand over Ivy’s stomach, down to where she was stretched full, Cordelia stroked her fingers over the swollen nub above her pussy.

“Again, babygirl. Come for me again.”

She couldn’t have held out if she’d tried. Surrendering herself with a sob, Ivy let the second wave rip her apart as she bucked and whimpered and writhed on the couch.

“Such a good little girl you are, Ivy Mae. My good girl. Again.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say she couldn’t bear it. That it was too much, too fast and she needed a break. But her woman’s words still echoed in her ears.

I am going to remind you exactly what it means for you to wear my collar.

This was what it meant to wear the pretty little flower around her neck.

It meant surrendering herself to another’s will.

Giving herself over, body and soul, to her Domme.

Sacrificing herself on the altar of submission, and trusting that Cordelia would always put Ivy’s needs above her own, even when she was forcing her to accept more pain and pleasure than she felt she could handle.

And so she took it. Again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Once, she came screaming because Cordelia finally removed the clamps, and the pain shoved her so fiercely over the edge of oblivion she nearly blacked out.

And just as Cordelia had promised, when she hit the point she didn’t think she could bear another orgasm without actually dying, her woman fucked her relentlessly with the toy until she finally went over that edge one last time.

By the time Cordelia dragged her to bed, her mind was blissfully empty, her body drained of every ounce of energy. So much so, she didn’t even have the presence of mind or the energy to complete her usual nighttime routine.

Or to care that she hadn’t.

Collapsing into bed, she burrowed into her woman’s softness, and slept.

Cordelia

For a long while, she simply lay in the bed she shared with the woman she loved, watching her sleep.

Her babygirl had been absolved of her part in all this. The strapping she’d taken was one of the hardest and longest spankings Cordelia had ever given her. But she’d taken it so well, and by the time Cordelia had tucked her into bed, she’d seemed like her usual light, happy self again.

Now, Cordelia was the one living with the heaviness of unresolved guilt in her chest.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she murmured, brushing a thumb over her sweet girl’s cheeks, flushed with sleep as she breathed deep and even. “I’ll fix this. I swear.”

Slipping from the bed, she crept out of their room to their office-slash-closet.

She grabbed a stepstool from the corner and climbed up onto it, reaching for the box at the very back of the top shelf.

It took a little juggling, but she eventually got the box down and carried it out to the living room.

Seated on the large, plush couch she and Ivy had recently splurged on, she took a deep, bracing breath and lifted the lid from the box.

Memories, ones she’d kept buried as neatly as that box in the back of the closet, threatened to overwhelm her as she stared down at the pile of pictures in her lap.

She wasn’t sure why she’d kept them. This was the first time since she’d left that she'd actually bothered to look at them.

And as she picked up a picture from her wedding day with trembling fingers, she remembered why.

God, she’d been so young. She knew that, of course, but seeing herself with baby fat still in her cheeks, standing next to a man old enough to be her grandfather was more jarring than she’d expected it to be.

But she made herself take each picture out, one by one, and look it over before setting it aside.

If she was going to have a panic attack about something, she damn well wasn’t going to do it in front of Ivy.

So for nearly an hour she went through those memories, reliving the worst years of her life alone in the dark.

Letting herself feel the terror and heartache and the anger she’d carried with her for as long as she could remember.

Here in the dark, she could let the tears come, could let herself sit with all the horrific things she’d lived through without worrying about upsetting her girl.

It surprised her that the memories weren’t all bad. A few of them even made her laugh as she remembered afternoons playing in the sun, pranks she and the other kids had pulled on each other in secret. Even in the midst of their own personal hell, they’d managed to carve out some sense of happiness.

Had Jacob ever had that chance? As a man within The Prophets, he would have been afforded opportunities she’d never had. But as the only son of Harlan Redding, he also would have shouldered an impossible amount of responsibility.

She’d find out soon enough, she supposed. She just wasn’t sure how the hell to feel about it.