Page 7

I stepped inside Demian's penthouse, my heart thudding with anticipation. The scent of leather and sandalwood greeted me, familiar and comforting. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden hue over the room.

My eyes swept over the sleek modern furniture, taking in the details I'd missed last night. In the daylight, the place seemed warmer, less intimidating.

Demian closed the door behind us, and we hung our coats on the coat rack. He guided me to the couch, his strong hand resting on the small of my back. As we sat down, I felt a flutter in my stomach. This time was different; there were no contracts to review, no signatures to give. Just the promise of a deeper connection waiting to unfold.

"Are you okay, Tilly?" Demian asked, his voice steady and reassuring. His gray eyes met mine, searching for any hint of hesitation.

I took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm a bit nervous, but excited too."

He smiled, his chiseled jaw softening. "We can take things slow. Whatever pace you need."

I bit my lip. “I’m not sure slow is what I want.”

Demian chuckled. “Interesting.”

We restated our boundaries, ensuring mutual respect and clarity before anything more intimate began. Demian gave us a safeword, “Frosty”, which we could use any time we needed things to stop without judgment. I appreciated his concern, knowing that he valued consent and clear communication above all else. As we talked, I felt the tension in my shoulders ease.

"Remember," Demian said, his hand gently covering mine, "you can always use your safeword if you need to stop. We're in this together."

I looked into his eyes, feeling the sincerity behind his words. "Thank you," I whispered, squeezing his hand in return. "I trust you."

Demian rested his hand gently on my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through me. My heart raced, and I could barely contain my excitement.

"Tilly," he began, his voice low and soothing. "Are you ready for a bit of playtime? Nothing serious, just some light discipline to set the mood."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "I-I think so," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Good girl," he said, his fingers tracing circles on my leg. “I need to make it clear that you haven’t broken any rules, baby girl. I’m not disciplining you right now as a punishment. I’m disciplining you to show you what it feels like to have a strong Daddy. To show you how important it is to set boundaries for you, so that you can be safe and grow as a person. But most of all, I want to show you how it feels to be disciplined while you’re feeling relaxed. So you know it’s not something to be scared of. To show you that actually, it can be kinda fun.”

I nodded. “I think I get it. This is a test-run. To show me what’s in store for me if I step out of line.”

Demian smiled. “Exactly. So that in the future, if you break any of our rules, you know what’s coming.”

I squirmed on the couch, reminding myself of the rules in our contract. No putting myself down. No disrespecting Daddy. No argument about bedtimes or daily routine. No curse words. “Thing is,” I said, “I’m a good girl, Daddy. I don’t think I’ll ever break a rule.”

Demian chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

I nodded, my mouth suddenly parched. "I guess we will," I managed to say, my voice stronger this time.

With a gentle tug, Demian pulled me onto his lap, my back pressed against his chest. His strong arms encircled me, holding me securely in place. I felt a shiver run down my spine, my body alive with anticipation.

"Relax, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "This is all about having fun and exploring our connection."

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath as I leaned into his embrace. The scent of his cologne filled my nostrils, sending a wave of desire coursing through me.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, a shy smile playing at the corners of my mouth. "Yes, Daddy," I replied.

Demian reached around to the zipper of my hotpants and undid it, then he positioned me over his lap and with a sharp tug, he pulled my hotpants down, along with my panties.

“Holy shit, baby girl,” he marveled. “You’re a work of art.”

I squirmed slightly in his lap, embarrassed to be baring my ass to him but pleased by his reaction at the same time.

Suddenly, Demian administered a soft spank, sending a warm heat through my body. I gasped, my eyes fluttering open in surprise.

“What do you think, little one?” he asked. “Think you can take it harder?”

“Definitely,” I panted. “Definitely harder.”

He spanked me again, harder this time, and I moaned in pleasure. “Harder, Daddy,” I panted.

He spanked me again, and again, each time harder than the last, until I was crying out in both pain and pleasure. My skin was on fire but the space between my legs was wet.

“Interesting,” said Demian, finally stopping and stroking my ass, pinching my cheeks ever so slightly, and running his finger gently along the crack between them. “Looks like you enjoyed that as much as I did.”

His strong hands guided me to my feet, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down my spine. He pulled me toward him, and I felt the hard heat of him pressing into my stomach. Now I could see what he meant. He had enjoyed that as much as me.

He cupped my face, his gaze locked onto mine, and leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss. The playful energy from moments ago transformed into something more intense, more electric. My heart pounded in my chest as I melted into his embrace.

He pulled away, his eyes gleaming with desire. "Are you ready for what comes next, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, my voice trembling with anticipation. "Yes, Daddy," I replied, the words rolling off my tongue with ease.

With gentle care, Demian slipped off my t-shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of my shoulder as he revealed the lacy bra beneath. His touch sent another jolt of pleasure through me, and I couldn't help but gasp. He continued his slow, deliberate movements, removing my bra and leaving me in nothing but my frilly white socks. The large windows showed the whole of the city beneath us, but I knew nobody could see us all the way up here. We were just two specks, vibrating with sexual energy.

The cool air of the penthouse brushed against my exposed skin, heightening my senses.

"You're breathtaking," Demian murmured, his voice low and husky. He ran his fingers over my breasts, eliciting a shiver from deep within me.

As he led me to his bedroom, I felt a surge of trust and desire. The tender yet authoritative words he used underscored our agreed-upon roles, and I reveled in the depth of his care. I placed my palm against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat mirroring my own.

We stood there for a moment, lost in the intensity of our connection. Demian's gray eyes seemed to pierce through to my very soul, and I knew in that instant that I had found something special, something rare.

"I'm going to take care of you, Tilly," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "You can trust me."

And with those words, I knew that I did trust him, completely and utterly. I was ready to explore this new facet of our relationship, to let go of my fears and insecurities and embrace the vulnerability that came with true intimacy.

Demian lifted me onto the bed, gently pushing me back until I was lying on his sily sheets, looking up at the ceiling. His lips brushed against my inner thigh, making me shiver. My heart raced as his mouth moved closer to the center of my desire. His touch was gentle, yet deliberate, each stroke a delicate dance that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me.

"Relax, Tilly," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. "Let go of any self-consciousness. I want you to feel safe, loved."

His words resonated deep within me, and I found myself surrendering to the sensations. Demian's tongue traced slow, deliberate circles around my most sensitive spot, drawing out a mix of arousal and emotional release. Each touch reminded me that this was more than just lust—it was about trust, vulnerability, and connection.

As my breath grew ragged, I threaded my fingers through Demian's short-cropped hair, urging him closer. He responded with a low growl, his touch growing more insistent as he lavished me with attention. I felt myself teetering on the edge of something profound, my body trembling with anticipation.

“Let go,” he urged me, then he returned to his pleasure-giving, his tongue working harder than ever to elicit a climax from me. It didn’t take long. It hit me like a tsunami, a giant crashing wave of delight, my entire body getting swept up by it.

Demian watched me with hungry eyes, then moved up to my lips, kissing me long and deep, crushing the weight of his hard, ripped body down onto me, grinding his erection, still clothed behind his denim jeans, between my legs.

“More Daddy,” I panted. “I want more.”

I reached for his jeans but he grabbed my wrist tight.

“Daddy decides when it’s time for that,” he said, tutting playfully. “Ask me again. Nicely.”

I swallowed. “Please, Daddy,” I said. “Please get naked for me.”

“Ask me again,” he commanded. “Beg me. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Please, Daddy,” I begged, squirming on the sheets, my pussy hot and wet, satisfied and desperate for more all at once. “I beg you, Daddy. Take off your clothes and fuck me, Daddy. Fill me up.”

Demian let his eyes rake over my body, a dominant look in his expression that I hadn’t seen fully before now. I loved every minute of it.

“Alright,” he said at last. “Seeing as you asked me so nicely. But I’m warning you, I won’t hold back.”

I nodded. “I understand. I don’t want you to hold back, Daddy.”

Demian let out an animal growl then he stood up and pulled his t-shirt up over his head, revealing rock hard abs and pecs, an athlete’s body. He pulled down his jeans right after, his pants coming off with them. Clearly, he wasn’t ashamed of his body and it was easy to see why. His cock was thick and hard, perfectly straight and ready to plunge into me. He grabbed something off his nightstand and put it between his teeth, biting off the wrapper. Then he rolled a condom onto his thick length, groaning in anticipation.

“Holy shit, baby girl,” he panted. “I’ve been thinking about doing this to you all fucking day.”

I smiled as I thought about Demian wanting to fuck me on the ice and in the ball pit. It made the memory of our day even more special.

He climbed over me, kissing me again as he entered me slowly, splitting me open, thrusting deep inside me, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He shuddered. “Fuck, you feel perfect.”

He began to move now, but his rhythm remained unhurried, allowing every sensation to settle like a warm embrace. As our bodies moved together, I felt a deep sense of intimacy unlike anything I had ever experienced before. My breath hitched with each slow thrust, the mix of physical pleasure and emotional vulnerability overwhelming me. I clung to Demian, my fingers digging into his broad shoulders as I surrendered myself to the moment.

"You're mine, Tilly," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "Completely and utterly mine."

I nodded, because I knew that I was. I belonged to Demian, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

My world shrank to the size of Demian's embrace, his warmth enveloping me as his movements grew more urgent. His guiding hands traced patterns on my skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He grabbed handfuls of me, he pinched my nipples, he bit my shoulder. He was claiming me, every bit of me, as his.

I clung to him, my nails digging into his back as I whispered words of encouragement. His soft words of reassurance washed over me, drowning out the noise in my head and leaving nothing but the exquisite sensation of his body against mine.

As we reached the precipice together, I felt a rush of ecstasy mixed with an overwhelming sense of connection. We crested the wave in unison, our breaths mingling as we rode out the aftershocks. For a few moments, neither of us spoke—the silence filled only with the sound of our ragged breathing and the pounding of our hearts.

Demian pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, his arms wrapping around me as we rested in the afterglow. "You’re something else, baby girl," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.

I returned his words with a shy smile, feeling more cared for than I ever had before.

“I want you to know,” he said, “that this wasn’t a one-time thing. What we did just then—that’s the tip of the fucking iceberg, sweetheart. I’m going to do things to you, to take things from you, to give things to you, that you’ve never experienced. Not in your wildest dreams.” He groaned and kissed me again. “Fucking you is like fucking heaven, Tilly. I never want to let you go.”

“Then don’t",” I whispered breathlessly. “Please don’t.”

He ran his fingers through my tangled hair, smoothing it away from my face. "How about a warm bath now?" he suggested. “To soothe that little red butt of yours?”

The offer sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine, and I nodded eagerly. The thought of sinking into a steaming tub, surrounded by fragrant bubbles and Demian's tender care, was almost too enticing to resist.

As he helped me stand, I leaned into his touch, savoring the feeling of being cherished and protected. Demian led me into his lavish bathroom, where the clawfoot tub waited like a gleaming porcelain throne. Steaming water cascaded from the faucet, enveloping the room in a warm, fragrant embrace. Bubbles danced on the surface, inviting me to sink into their velvety depths.

My heart fluttered as he helped me undress, his fingers brushing against my skin with a gentleness that made me ache for more. With each piece of clothing that fell away, I felt myself shedding the weight of the world, leaving behind nothing but bare vulnerability.

As I stepped into the tub, the water enfolded me in its soothing embrace, washing away the lingering tension from our passionate encounter. Demian knelt beside me, his strong hands gliding over my shoulders and arms in deliberate strokes that left me breathless. Every touch seemed to echo with a silent promise—that he would always be there to protect and care for me.

Our roles felt crystallized: he the steadfast guardian, and I the cherished little one, safe within his care. It was a dynamic that both thrilled and terrified me, but I couldn't deny the allure of surrendering to his guidance.

"You're so precious to me," Demian murmured, holding my chin in a tender yet firm grip. His gray eyes met mine, their depths filled with a warmth that threatened to melt my defenses. I nodded, swallowing hard against the sudden lump in my throat.

After what felt like an eternity, Demian helped me out of the tub, wrapping me in a fluffy towel that smelled faintly of his cologne. As I dried off, I slipped into one of his oversized hockey T-shirts, the fabric swallowing my frame in a cozy embrace. The soft cotton clung to my damp skin, a tangible reminder of our connection.

“You can sleep in this tonight,” I told him.

“Wait,” I said. “I’m allowed to sleep at your place?”

He smiled. “You’re not just allowed. It’s Daddy’s orders.”

It was kind of early but I didn’t care. I was tired after such an exciting day, not to mention such a restless night last night. Demian must have sensed it—another way he was looking after me.

Leading me to his bed, Demian tucked me in with a gentle smile, asking if I wanted a bedtime story. The childlike request sent a thrill racing through me, and I nodded eagerly, snuggling deeper into the blankets.

He began to read from a well-loved book about a determined little bear who lived in an enchanted forest. The tale was lighthearted and sweet, filled with lessons about courage and perseverance. As his deep, soothing voice washed over me, I felt a pang of sadness for my new stuffie, still waiting for me at home.

Demian must have noticed the shift in my expression, because he paused mid-sentence, his brow furrowing in concern. "What's wrong, baby girl?"

I hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I just . . . I wish I had Mr. Frosty here with me."

A slow smile spread across his face, and he leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I can get you another stuffie for this place too," he offered. "Or, if you'd like, you and Mr. Frosty could just move in with me."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I nodded, unable to find the words to express my elation. The thought of sharing a life with Demian—of waking up every morning in his strong arms—filled me with a happiness I'd never known before.

As Demian resumed reading, his voice lulled me toward sleep, each word carrying me further away from reality and into the realm of dreams. I drifted off halfway through the story, my heart full and my body humming with contentment. In the safety of his embrace, I knew that I had finally found my home.

S unlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow on Demian's penthouse as I stirred awake. I couldn’t believe I’d slept for so long, all through the night. In fact, I’d slept like a baby.

My senses slowly adjusted to the unfamiliar surroundings, and the scent of freshly baked goods wafted through the air. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and spotted Demian in the doorway. He stood there in jeans and a t-shirt, one arm raised up against the frame showing off his impressive biceps.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said. “Ready for some breakfast?”

I practically jumped out of bed with excitement and bounded over to him. “Something smells good, Daddy!”

“Follow me,” he said, leading me to a large wicker hamper on the kitchen island. His muscular arms flexed as he lifted the lid, revealing an assortment of iced pink pastries, mini doughnuts, and other treats nestled within.

"I took the liberty of ordering breakfast from a local bakery. I hope you don't mind. Didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered one of everything"

I couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. "Not at all. It looks amazing."

The pastries were arranged on a tiered stand, while the mini doughnuts sat atop a bed of powdered sugar. Strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries filled small bowls, adding a pop of color to the display.

I sat at the island and Demian handed me a cartoon-themed plate with stars all over it, complete with matching cutlery, and a small sippy cup filled with juice. My cheeks flushed with happiness as I took in the playful yet meaningful setup. This man, who exuded strength and confidence in every aspect of his life, had taken the time to create an environment that catered to my needs and desires.

We sat at the island, indulging in the delicious spread before us. Demian watched me with a tender gaze, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. I savored each bite, relishing the sweetness of the pastries and the tanginess of the fresh fruit.

As we ate, Demian regaled me with stories of his hockey career, sharing both triumphs and setbacks. His openness and vulnerability allowed me to see a side of him that few others ever experienced. I felt honored to be let into his world, and my heart swelled with gratitude.

The act of eating breakfast together, using age play-themed utensils and sipping from a sippy cup, accentuated my sense of being cared for. I reveled in the gentle vulnerability that enveloped me, knowing that I was safe and cherished in Demian's presence.

“So,” he said softly, “I have hockey practice tonight.”

I nodded. “I understand. I’ll get out of your hair. I have some work I should catch up on later, anyway.” I was already drafting an email to my boss, scrapping the initial story idea about Demian's scandalous secrets. Instead, I planned to focus on his true character—a gentleman and a talented athlete.

He shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. You live here now, remember? We’ll go by your place later if you like. Grab your stuff?”

I grinned. “Okay.”

“But before that, we have a few hours to spare. Unless you need to work right away?”

I shook my head. “Nah. I have time to hang.”

Demian looked pleased. “Great. Remember you mentioned wanting to go to the beach yesterday? How about a day trip?"

A squeal escaped my lips before I could contain it. The excitement was too much. Then reality hit me. "Oh no, I don't have a swimsuit with me."

He dismissed my concern with a simple wave. "We'll stop by a store on the way. Pick whatever you like."

I thanked him, trying to suppress the giddiness building inside me. "How can I ever repay you?" I teased, batting my eyelashes.

His playful grin sent a shiver down my spine. "I'm sure we'll think of something," he said, suggestively.

Before I knew it, I found myself on my knees, a spark of mischief in my eyes. I licked my sugar-coated lips and Demian growled, pulling me closer.

“This is one way to do it,” he said, his voice tight with desire.

My hand reached for his zipper, as the scene faded around us, leaving us on the precipice of another passionate moment. The thrill of anticipation washed over me, making my heart race and my skin tingle. I knew this was just the beginning of our adventure together.