Page 37 of More, Daddy (Bluebell Bruisers #3)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

Briar’s words remind me of me. Younger me, from the past. The one who tried to explain to his loving wife that his sexual needs were not rooted in some deep trauma or some fucked up desire to be an incestuous monster.

Merely, what I wanted and needed in the bedroom was just something hot and forbidden, something that made me come so hard, but that fulfilled me in ways that left me truly sated afterward.

I tried explaining that sex is good, but leaning into a forbidden dynamic is insanely hot.

She just didn’t understand. The problem wasn’t that Pris didn’t understand. It was that she said she did. She promised she did. And she also promised to research it, to try it, to give it a go, for me, and for our marriage.

Briar is younger than I envisioned my partner being, but in many ways, she is more grown than some of my peers. She’s been forced to take care of herself, to pay her own way and forge her own path–and I can’t deny that I respect how well she’s done.

For the first time since discovering who DaddysGirl really is, while standing in the hot, rundown home belonging to Briar’s father, I actually consider being with Briar.

I’ve been fighting it. Denying it, denying her and what we have.

The shock of discovering that DaddysGirl wasn’t Cadence, and that whoever it was had made me love her under the guise of a lie—those things had me temporarily blinded. And even now, when I think about being lied to by a woman I care about, I’m consumed with anger.

But in equal measure, I find myself wanting to be with Briar. Despite how much I’m telling her it’s never going to happen.

What if it did happen?

What if I put all of my reasons and excuses aside and simply allowed myself to be happy?

The shower kicks on, and I can’t help the growl that escapes me when I peer down the hall and notice she left the bathroom door open . Of course she did. Starved for Daddy’s attention.

With a hunt of specific nature in mind, I stalk down the hall, opening the first door on the left.

It’s the wrong one. This is her father’s room.

What kind of father, might I add, leaves his daughter home to fend for herself all the time?

Without AC? Without a car? I don’t care if nineteen is an adult.

I don’t care if she’s employed full time.

Briar told me she’s been taking care of him for years—and by the looks of this dilapidated house, I believe her.

I glance around the room, taking in the unmade bed and the pile of dirty clothes on the floor, next to the hamper.

There’s a painting of a pair of cowboy boots on the wall, framed in chipped, white wood.

Aside from the bed and hamper, there’s a dresser and a closet, and a door that leads to an en suite bathroom.

I close the door and try the next, finding a linen closet instead.

Next door opens into a bedroom, and my heart swells at the sight. In fact, I’m so stunned by the sight of Briar’s room, that I stand in the doorway just… absorbing it all.

Absorbing her in a way I never have.

A pink canopy daybed, the comforter frilly pink, the bedskirt matching.

On top of the mattress, there are pillows in the shape of hearts, fuzzy, in ombres of pink and red, and regular pillows, covered in lace pillowcases.

Beneath the bed is a pink rug, and on the walls are posters for beauty products, like lipsticks and perfumes, I even spot a poster for a Barbie camper van, and my lips curve into a smirk.

A vase of faux flowers sits on the table next to her bed, and I stand there, heart racing, mind whirring.

Briar is gorgeous, and smart, and seeing that her room is preserved to a time in her life when she was likely very happy— her girlhood —does something to me.

I want to take her from this.

I want to provide her with all of the things she wants, and in return, care for her, love her, and be with her.

I want her to have everything her heart desires, and to not have to live in a time capsule in order to find a sliver of happiness.

Except, to forgive her for the lie, to move on fully, I need her to understand why it hurt me so much. I need her to feel that pain, too, so she never inflicts it on me again.

I spot a purse hanging over her desk chair, and peer into the hall to make sure the shower is still on. After confirming, I cross the room, and dump the bag out on the made bed. Sifting through for just a moment, I stumble upon the very item I’m looking for.

I dig my phone from my back pocket, and hover it over the blister pack of birth control pills. According to the pack, Briar took her pill today.

Daddy’s good girl.

Except, Daddy’s good girl needs to learn a lesson about lying. And I plan to teach her one, one she can’t ever forget.

I snap a photo of the pack from the front, and take another photo of the back of the blister pack before shoving everything into her purse, and slipping out.

On the stove, I make her Kraft Mac & Cheese, and set it aside. Then, I head to her bedroom and wait.

“Drop the towel,” I command, and yes, I’ve considered the idea that her father could very well come home during my visit.

I don’t give a shit.

Let him come home.

Then he can meet the man who is going to take his daughter from him. The man who is going to give his daughter everything he couldn’t, and then give her even more, like a ring, babies, and safe arms to hold her.

Fuck that guy.

I’m making his daughter my babygirl, and I don’t think there’s anything that could stop me at this point .

The ends of her wet hair are heavy with drops of water, which plunk in mini thuds around her feet. The towel joins the drops of water, and my eyes traverse the most beautiful terrain.

Briar’s naked body is gorgeous, consisting of silken skin, sleek lines of muscle, voluptuous dips and velvety curves.

Her tanned areolas give way to nipples hardened with desire.

Her bottom lip pinned beneath her top teeth, my babygirl blinks at me, finally bringing her hands together behind her back.

“Get on the floor and crawl to me. Prove to Daddy that you’re sorry. Sorry for all of it. Lying, being a slut—everything.”

She nods, sending rivulets of water down her tits and flat stomach. The old floor creaks as she braces herself on hands and knees, tipping her head up to meet my eyes. Obedience and pleasure rim her expression, and my chest squeezes with how right this moment between us feels.

Her tits sway as she crawls, leaving a trail of worn carpet behind her. When she makes it to my feet, I reach out and collect her face in my palm, stroking my thumb tenderly over her swollen lips. “Come on, climb over Daddy’s lap. It’s time for your spankings.”

She sucks in a breath, her brows rumpling, cheeks hollowing from her shock.

“Spankings?” She places her hands on my knees, and my cock, already thick and hard from handling her birth control pills, stands tall, proving stronger than my denim.

Her eyes slide to my groin, and she lets a hand go there, cupping me.

“Can’t I just make you feel good, Daddy? Can’t that be my apology?” she asks, batting her lashes at me in a way that stirs up all the dormant desires in my veins, bringing them anew, rushing to the surface. “I don’t want a spanking, it’s gonna hurt.”

I slip my hands beneath her armpits, and drag her onto my lap. She kicks her feet in defiance, but the first swat across her naked ass stops all fight. Briar squeals, her wet hair soaking into my jeans as she settles across my lap.

With the heel of my palm, I smooth circles into her cheeks, one at a time, my other hand at the back of her neck. “Tell me, babygirl, why did you let me be your first?” More intoxicating, dizzying circles on her ass, her frame melting over my legs as comfort seeps into her pores.

“Because I love you,” she replies, drowsy.

“Comfy on Daddy’s lap?” I ask, smiling as I rear my hand back, using half of my power as I swat her hard across her left cheek.

She winces, sucking in air through her teeth.

“Right now, sweetheart, Daddy’s lap isn’t for comfort. It’s for learning lessons.” Another swat, this time a warning swat, gentler and more controlled. I swipe at the sweat beading along my hairline, staring down at Briar’s perfect body in my lap.

With a deep breath in, I exhale slowly, years of impatience elongating the noise. I’ve wanted this for so long. Finding it with someone I love became something I was unsure would happen. Prostitutes, one night stands… that’s all I ever thought I’d have for this.

Until Briar.

My world manages to stay on its axis as I swat her hard, again and again, despite the fact that I’m losing my mind.

This is it. She is it.

After she pays for her lie, we can move forward together.

“You should have told me,” I lecture her, “about your virginity. You made Daddy look bad, ripping your pants down and shoving into you like that.”

She wiggles her reddened, plump ass. “N-No, Daddy, I wanted it. I wanted it so much.”

“Hmm,” I groan, curving my fingers into her cunt, finding her slit wet and her insides warm. “Is Daddy’s girl getting horny from her discipline?”

She nods against my leg, turning her face to expose half of her profile.

Her lips are swollen, and her damp hair is drying in golden waves around her face.

Freckles on full display, thick lashes heavy with unshed tears of desire, Briar looks like a goddamn painting.

A perfect, beautiful girl, over my knee, waiting for her daddy to teach her a lesson, then make her all better.

I spank her again, loving the echo my slap leaves in her bedroom. Her pink bedroom. My hard cock pokes her tits, and she moans a little as I adjust her over me again.