Tempting Daddy by Ava Sinclair
Chapter Nineteen
Father
For the second time today, Carmen is having a raw moment with a parent. This time it’s her mother. After we left Stephen Angelo, we went straight to Carmen’s house. Carmen told her mother that she needed to talk to her.
We were worried that her father may come to the house so we took Laura Angelo to a small diner in the next town where we got a booth in the back. Here, with her hand over her mother’s, Carmen lifted the burden her mother had been bearing for so many years.
Carmen’s mother had never wanted her to know the truth. With tears streaming down her face, she recounted her own abusive upbringing at the hands of strict Catholic parents who disowned her when the young man who got her pregnant fled when she told him about the baby. He joined the military and died a few years later.
“I wanted you to have stability,” she said. “I thought Stephen could give me that. I was wrong not to tell him about the pregnancy, but I was just so afraid. My parents raised me to be a good Catholic woman. I let them down but thought I could please them by marrying a successful man like your… like Stephen. But when you were born…” She’d stopped for a moment and closed her eyes. “I could see your real father in your features. I knew it would be just as apparent to him and when he asked me, I couldn’t lie. I told him the truth, and that’s when my life became hell.”
She’d looked at Carmen. “I’m so sorry. I know you think I did little to protect you, but he held it over my head all these years. He said if I didn’t do what he wanted, he’d tell you that you were a bastard and that I was a whore. And I knew he didn’t want the truth to get out, but I was so afraid. I tried to imagine your little face, what something like that would do to you. He wasn’t a good father, but he was the father you knew. He kept a roof over our heads and gave you things I couldn’t give you on my own. I hated the way he treated you. I confronted him over it.”
“And you wore makeup to cover the bruises he gave you when you tried to defend me.” Carmen had begun crying then.
“Yeah,” her mother said. “Yeah.”
“You can’t stay with him,” I’d said. “You know that. He’s hurt you.” I could still see the shadow of a bruise despite the makeup. “It’s just going to get worse.”
“Mom, Father Dominic told me about a safe house for domestic violence victims in the next town. They have counselors and advocates.” Carmen had squeezed her hand. “And they have people who can walk you through the legal system. He needs to answer for what he’s done. Mom. Please. I love you.”
Laura had looked at her daughter. “Honey, do you mind if I speak with Father Dominic alone?”
Carmen had looked puzzled. “Sure,” she said. “There’s a bookshop next door. I’ll just go over there while you two talk.”
She’d gotten up from the booth and we were alone, Carmen’s mother and me.
“Can I ask you a question, Father?”
“Of course.”
She’d fidgeted with the cuff on her sweater and I’d almost smiled; she and Carmen have the same nervous mannerism. I’d waited for her to ask what she wanted to ask. When she did, it had taken me by surprise.
“Are you in love with my daughter?”
“Yes. Is it so obvious?”
I’d searched her eyes for anger, for judgement. There was none, but a flicker of a sad smile plays on her lips.
“You look at her in the same way a handsome young man looked at me, once upon a time. Unfortunately, when I needed that man the most, he couldn’t commit. I don’t want Carmen hurt as I was.”
“And I won’t.”
“You can’t promise that. You’re a priest.”
“Not for much longer. I’m leaving the church.”
Her initial reaction was stunned silence. “For Carmen?”
“For Carmen. But also, for myself. I came to the priesthood looking for a way to heal a hurt. I came looking for an anchor in a life that I feared would spin out of control. I’d lost my brother, my mother, and my father was suffering from dementia, so in a way I’d already lost him, too. I thought the priesthood would give me a family, a flock, children. As it turns out, I am better suited to serve this world and God not as the father of many, but the father of one. I want to be with Carmen. I want to give her both the love of a husband and the love of a father. I know that sounds strange…”
“No.” Laura Angelo had shaken her head “It doesn’t.” Then she’d smiled. “It sounds… divine. It sounds like exactly what she needs.”
“So, I have your blessing?”
“Is it what Carmen wants?” She’d waved her hand, dismissing her own question. “Wait, of course it is. I see how she looks at you. And I know Carmen. She’s strong. She’ll have what she wants in life.”
“And so will you. You just have to take the first step. That begins today.”
Six hours later, Laura Angelo is safe at a domestic violence shelter where her husband cannot find her, not that he will be trying tonight, anyway. Our first stop was the police station. Carmen had stayed by her mother’s side as the police photographed her mother’s still-visible bruises.
There was no way that Carmen could go home. I booked her a hotel room in the same town as the shelter so she could visit her mother. She fretted over money, but I told her not to worry about it. From now on, I’d be taking care of her, my love, my Carmen, my little girl. Her mother wasn’t the only one who had to heal.
In the hotel room, the strain of the day finally causes her to collapse in tears.
“Why didn’t he want me?” She sobs into my chest.
“Stephen Angelo is an uncaring man,” I say.
“No,” she pulls back, wiping the heel of her hand across one eye in an achingly childlike gesture. “My natural father. Why didn’t he want me?”
“It’s not a question I can answer,” I say. “But I want you. I want you now and forever, and if you’ll have me, Carmen, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you everything you need. I’ll provide for you. I’ll protect you. I’ll correct you if you need that. I’ll love you, body and soul.” I search her eyes. “I know it’s not the same thing…” “Oh… Father…” She pauses. “I guess I should stop calling you that.”
“Our first time together, you called me Daddy. That’s fine with me when we’re together. When we’re out with others, Dominic will do. Or Dom.”
She presses her lips to mine. We celebrate by losing ourselves in one another. I undress her slowly, watching the vulnerable little girl give way to the passionate woman.
I lay her on the hotel bed, my eyes taking in her small, perfect body. Carmen has high round breasts crowned with large dusky nipples that harden under my tongue. She’s sensitive, and when I suckle on the firm peaks she cries out, her fingers twining in my hair. It’s her unspoken way of urging me on. I draw harder, excited by her capacity for pain. I score her nipples with my teeth; as I do, I feel her pussy flex rhythmically on the two fingers I push inside her.
I roll her over, squeezing the firm globes of her ass, admiring the two dimples above the soft cheeks. I remember the spanking. I slap her ass and she moans. She has an ass to test a saint, or at least a priest. I’m looking forward to opportunities to correct the naughty side of her that’s bound to come out once we’re settled into our new life.
I spread her buttocks, catching a glimpse of the tight crinkle between them. How have I gone without such delights for so long? Carmen is an innocent; there is so much to teach her. I will eventually enjoy all of her.
She wants to enjoy all of me, too. She’s an eager pupil and makes a confession. She wants to give me a blow job. I lean back, and she shyly puts her hand on the base of my cock. The way she’s looking at it makes me want to come. I can feel the surge building in my balls and it’s all I can do not to ruin the moment prematurely when she slides her soft mouth over the head of my cock.
Carmen’s inexperience makes her efforts even more exciting. She’s wanting to please me, her innocence its own kind of aphrodisiac. In my past life I had more seasoned partners but can’t recall their practiced ministrations bringing me to this kind of fever pitch so quickly.
“Stop,” I say, putting my hand under her chin and slowly pulling her away. I stare down into her sweet face. Her lips are half parted, her eyes languid. She was enjoying herself. I am a blessed man.
“Why?”
“Because I want to be inside you.” I step from the bed, pulling her with me. “Turn around,” I say.
She looks puzzled as I push her over the bed, but when I push into her, I hear her exclaim.
“Oh!” She gasps as I fill her in one quick motion. “Oh!”
Then she moans as I begin to move. I fuck her hard. I fuck her like a woman. Her cries fill the room. She comes hard on my cock, the tight pussy gripping me in delicious spasms. I hold her hips, thrusting hard. She’s gripping the bed covers and finds the rhythm, pushing back against me. She comes again, the cadence of her squeezes too much this time. I come with her, feeling her receiving me. Perfect love. Perfect trust.
I have made the right choice. I am still a man of God. I still believe in Heaven, but until I get there, she is my heaven on earth.
