Convincing Leah by Becca Jameson
Chapter 4
Craig
I’m panting so heavily that I can’t catch my breath. I lean over Leah, partly because I’m exhausted, but mostly because I want to be closer to her. I want to be touching her skin in as many places as I can.
I’m still buried inside her tight heat as I reach over my head with one hand and tug my shirt off. I need my abs against her warm ass, my chest against her back.
Her body is perfection. Everything about her is so damn right. I love the dark shade of her skin. It’s so smooth. Her bottom is hot to my touch, and I love that it’s going to sting when she wakes up tomorrow and remind her of my palm on her flesh.
I love how her curls are falling all over the place. I love her whimpers and the way she cried out when she came. The arch of her body. The lift of her head that elongated her neck.
Damn, her breasts. Her nipples. Jesus.
I take my time, not wanting to pull out. Eventually, it will get awkward though. Obviously, we can’t stay here like this forever.
I wince as I ease out of her. I kiss the small of her back before shuffling to the cabinet to one side and grabbing a few tissues. I dispose of the condom, zip up my pants, and then return to remove Leah’s heels and release her from her restraints.
She’s shaking.
She’s precious.
I carefully lift her off the bench and cradle her in my arms, carrying her to the loveseat.
She’s shivering as she curls into me, and I tug a blanket over her body and hug her tighter, kissing her forehead. She needs water, but it will have to wait a few minutes. She’s in a blissed-out state. I doubt she can swallow yet.
My God. I can’t stop staring at her. Does she have any idea how hard she has rocked my world? What the hell am I going to do? I need her like I need my next breath. All of her. I need her to be mine. Not just two hours a week and on the phone. I need to see her living space. I need her to see mine.
If it were remotely possible and wouldn’t freak her the fuck out, I’d demand she move in with me now. Today. Tonight.
But none of those things are possible. She has given me no indication that she wants more from me than what we already have. And we have a giant difference of opinion about our D/s preferences. For the first time in about fifteen years, I wonder if there’s any chance I could give up my need to be a caregiver and just be the Dom she desires.
The problem is deeper than that though. I’m not just a Daddy. I want a full-time little girl. It’s in my bones. Can I compromise? Maybe. For Leah. But even if I was her Dom and not her Daddy, I have no idea how much of her life she wants to devote to submitting.
Right now, our D/s relationship doesn’t extend outside of our scenes at the club. It doesn’t even extend to the time we talk before and after the scenes. With a few momentary exceptions, she doesn’t submit to me on the phone.
I lean over and grab a water bottle from the end table before tipping her head back and brushing curls from her forehead. “You need some water, sweetheart.”
She blinks at me in confusion.
I bring the bottle into her line of sight and then tip it to her lips. “Take a sip for me.”
Her sexy little bow mouth opens and she manages to swallow more than I expected before turning her head away.
My breath stops when she jerks her face to the side. Sometimes she makes gestures that are so very little. Her pouty lips and arched neck and shaking her head are exactly the things a little would do. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but I’ve seen her exhibit other signs from time to time that give me hope.
I’m probably kidding myself, but I can’t help it. I’m also unwilling to let this special time with her come to an end, so I set the water bottle aside and roll her back into my embrace.
The blanket had parted when she gave me the non-verbal toddler version of defiance. Her perfectly round breast with the rosy tip makes me lick my lips, but I pull the cover back over her and gently rock her.
The rocking is instinctual. I can’t stop it. There is no way to completely remove the Daddy from the Dom. My lips find her forehead again, and I keep them there, inhaling the floral scent of her hair. It’s intoxicating because it’s her and I’m used to her scent.
If she were mine, I’d probably wash her with baby soap because there’s nothing more precious than nuzzling a little’s tummy after a bath, inhaling the sweet, sweet scent of baby soap. I’m so used to the floral shampoo that I might even keep it.
I close my eyes and draw in a breath, reminding myself for the millionth time that she is not mine.
I absently stroke her hair with my hand, running my fingers through it, easing out the tangles as gently as possible. It’s so soft.
“Mmm. That feels good,” she whispers.
I keep rocking her and stroking her hair. I intend to do so as long as she’ll let me. I don’t want to break the spell. I don’t want to return to the real world. It’s going to kill me to let her get in her own car and drive away.
With the hand tucked under her and around her body, I let my thumb slide gently against the swell of her pert breast. The blanket is between my thumb and her smooth skin, but it’s enough that her breath hitches.
It’s silly to pretend I have no idea what’s causing her to squirm, but I do. I love how she reacts to such a simple touch. I keep stroking, inching minutely closer toward her nipple.
My cock is rock hard again even though I just came inside her tight pussy with enough force to shake the bench. I already want her again. I want to lay her out on her back, spread her legs, and eat her pussy until she screams. Only then would I enter her again.
The moment I tap her nipple, she moans and arches her entire body. The blanket falls open, giving me the full view of every inch of her sexy frame. She shocks me when she parts her legs and reaches between them, her fingers finding her clit and rubbing it. I’m not sure she knows she’s masturbating in my lap.
The vision is breathtaking, and I let her stroke through her wet folds for a few moments before I reach for her wrist and remove her hand from her pussy. Acting yet again on instinct, I want to control her orgasm myself.
I transfer her wrist to the hand tucked under her and hold it firmly against her hip.
She moans, writhing in my arms. “No. Please…”
I’ll give her what she needs, but it’s going to be on my timeline, not hers. I reach between her parted legs and drag one finger through her folds, flicking her clit before I remove my touch.
She cries out as if that simple touch were enough to bring her to the edge. Her hips lift off my lap as she digs her heels into the cushion next to my thigh.
Her eyes are wild when she finds my gaze. “Please…” She tries to squirm out of my firm grip.
I hold her tighter. God, I love the sound of her begging. “Patience, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you need when I’m ready.”
Her bottom lip quivers like I would expect from a little. Her whimpers are precious and youthful.
I stroke through her folds again and then tap her nipples with her own wetness.
She nearly shoots off my lap. Thank God I have a hold of her. I flatten my palm between her breasts to steady her. “All this squirming won’t get you what you want, sweetheart.”
When she brings her knees together and pulls them up toward her torso, I slide my hand under her thighs and give her a swat. “Legs open, Leah. Keep that pussy exposed for me.”
She moans, her head rolling back and forth.
I swat her again, harder this time. That gets her attention, and she opens her knees, exposing her pussy to the air.
Fuck me. This kind of domination is my favorite. She’s so needy that she’ll do anything to convince me to let her come. She could be completely little right now. There is no difference. A blissed-out, needy Leah stops my heart.
I lean forward and suck one of her nipples into my mouth, flicking it rapidly with my tongue. My first taste of her skin. It’s not enough. I want more. I’m feeling greedy. I suckle harder and then switch to the other breast while she arches and squirms in my arms.
I love the sound of her panting. “Oh, God,” she moans. “Please, Craig. God, please.”
When she uses my name, I know for certain she’s fully aware of who I am and where we are, and what we’ve been doing. I reach between her thighs again, stroking the tender skin alongside her folds, not touching her where she most needs it.
Her body starts trembling, whimpers mixed with panting coming from her mouth.
When I thrust two fingers into her wet pussy, she cries out. I add my thumb to her clit.
My only hesitation happens when she wiggles the hand trapped between us around to grab my cock through my pants. Her small hand cups me perfectly, making me gasp, distracting me momentarily. My dick throbs in my pants. There’s nothing I can do to stop her though. My hands are both occupied.
Leah digs her heels into the cushions again and lifts her hips, trying to get more contact with my fingers, so I pull them out. Good timing. She arches higher, and damn that whimper. It goes straight to my erection.
“Let go of my cock, Leah. Drop your hips. Don’t try to control this.”
She releases my shaft and slides her hand out from between us, but I miscalculated what she might do. Her fingers aim straight for her naughty pussy.
I’m fast. I grab her wrist, pull her hand across her body, and wrap my fingers around both wrists at once. Now she’s pinned. Now I’m going to take my time. Really make her squirm.
I ease one finger into her. Too slowly. She’s trembling as I pull it back out and circle her clit. Teasing her is delicious. One of these days, I’m going to lay her spread-eagled on my bed. In my home. And I’m going to lick every inch of her body until all I can taste is her before I let her come.
Testing her, I spread her wetness down to her tiny puckered hole and tap it.
She stiffens.
“Has anyone penetrated this little button, sweetheart?”
She shakes her head.
Good. I’ll be the first. The list of things I want to do to her in the future is growing long. I can’t even know if she’ll agree to see me after tonight, let alone in my house, in my bed.
I drag my fingers back up to her pussy and decide to put her out of her misery by thrusting two fingers into her tightness and rubbing her clit at the same time.
She sucks in a breath and makes not a single sound as she comes around my fingers. It’s like her detonation was so intense that she couldn’t even find a way to scream. It’s gorgeous. Humbling.
Her body goes limp in my arms and she smiles up at me, blinking. “I…” She licks her lips. “Holy fuck.”
I chuckle before leaning over and kissing her. “It was amazing to watch.”
Suddenly, she squirms free of me, tugging her wrists from my grip. Before I know it, she has wiggled to the floor between my thighs. She’s on her knees, and her hands are lowering the zipper on my pants.
I won’t stop her. I can’t. I’m too fucking horny. I lift my hips so she can lower my pants and underwear down to my thighs, and seconds later, her small hand is wrapped around the base of my cock while her lips consume the head.
I flatten my palms to the cushions at my sides, not wanting to grab her head, afraid I might force her to swallow me too fast. I have no idea what she can handle. She’s never had her mouth on my cock before. It’s been a long time since anyone has.
“Mmm,” she moans around my shaft, the vibrations driving me closer to release.
She sucks deeper, her cheeks hollowing out as she takes my breath away. Her mouth descends farther and farther until the head of my cock touches the back of her throat.
I grip the cushions, my fingers fisting.
Holy shit. This is unexpected and so fucking hot.
She sucks faster, her lips wrapped tightly around my dick.
I toss my head back and fight for control, but I’m losing. My balls draw up and I gasp. I can’t stop myself from coming. This is about to be the shortest blowjob in the history of blowjobs.
“Gonna come, sweetheart,” I warn her. She only gets about three seconds though because that’s all the warning I have before I shoot down her throat.
She never misses a beat, swallowing every drip of my come.
I’m panting when she finally releases me, sitting back on her heels with a wicked grin on her face. “You’re lucky I didn’t torment you and make you wait like you did me.”
I grin in return. “You’re lucky I don’t take you over my lap and spank your already sore bottom, imp. Who’s the Dom here?”
She shrugs, her sassy side making me lurch forward, grab her under the arms, and stretch her out so that she lands on her back on the floor. I tug my pants over my hips, straddle her, and then clasp her hands above her head.
The grin shifts to a sexy whimper. Her breasts are high and so fucking sexy, her nipples tight points begging to be sucked.
“Who’s the Dom?” I ask again.
She swallows. “You are, Sir.”
“Did I say you could palm my cock or suck it?”
“No, Sir.”
I give her a slow smile. “It was a delightful treat, but next time you take what’s not offered, I’ll tan your hide even if it’s already swollen and red, understood?”
She nods. “Yes, Sir.”
I lift a brow. “You’re a naughty little girl, aren’t you?”
She flushes, but her eyes widen. Her expression grows serious and the strangest words come from her mouth as she shakes her head. “No. I’ll be good. I’m sorry, Sir.” She looks shocked as if her actions have taken her by surprise too.
I frown. “Leah?”
In the smallest voice, she says, “I promise. I can be good. I’m a good girl.” She looks away, her lips pursed, her face growing redder.
I release her hands and draw her up into my arms, lifting her off the floor so I can cradle her in my lap again. “Sweetheart, look at me.”
She shifts her gaze to mine slowly. I can’t understand her expression. She looks like she’s been reprimanded for a horrible offense. She looks like she’s five.
I cup her face and kiss her forehead. “I don’t know where you’ve gone, but it’s not necessary. I was teasing, baby girl. You are good.”
I hug her tight, but she’s curled up in a ball in my arms.
What the fuck just happened?
She’s so…young. For someone who insists fervently that she never engages in any sort of age play, a secret hidden little has poked her head out several times tonight. This last one has cracked my heart open. I don’t know who she was talking to when she told me she’d be good. When she apologized. But it wasn’t me. Something has happened to her, and I suspect it happened when she really was five.
I ache for the young girl who undoubtedly got dredged up from her past when I told her she was naughty. It’s like I inadvertently triggered something inside her. No wonder she insists on avoiding age play. There’s a story behind this and it reeks of abuse, scaring the hell out of me.
It makes perfect sense though. If someone abused her as a child or made her feel like she was bad, no wonder she doesn’t enjoy age play. If she associates being naughty with abuse, there’s no way she would want to assume a role that brings back those memories.
I’m going to have to broach his subject later. She’s exhausted right now. She’s in subdrop. I’m going to hold her for a while and then help her get dressed and get her home. My home. I won’t take no for an answer.