All Chapters of Daddy's Demands: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Perfection.I hold her tight, neither of us saying a word but for the staccato of two heartbeats thundering together.She’s mine now. No one’s hurting her. No one’s taking her.Not ever.She’s mine, forever.Chapter EightNinaCrickets fill the silence as I pad naked through the darkness. I step into the bathroom, but I don’t turn on the light. I don’t have to; the moon through the big window overlooking the lake illuminates the room. I catch my reflection in the mirror, and I stop, turning to look at myself. I grin, blushing as I rake my teeth over my lower lip.I’m a woman now.It’s been hours since the bath, and since Cormac took me to the bed, laid me down, and showed me every single way he could make me feel things I’ve never imagined. And after that first time, we’ve gone three more times, until both of us fell asleep in each other’s arms—naked, exhausted, and happy.And I am happy. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. And it’s like I know who I am for the first time, and that who I

They do, but they should know that a corner is the last fucking place a beast like me should be kept.I keep my eyes on her, and hers are locked on me as the whole circus gets going. I only half hear the bullshit being tossed around, that I kidnapped her. That I forced myself on her. That I’m some rogue criminal doing as I please pretending to be with the FBI. And of course, it looks bad if you don’t know what’s really going on. After all, Urlech was my handler, and my only contact at the bureau, seeing as I’m a contractor. So, unless you know he’s dirty, like I do, it sure as fuck looks like I’m the psychopath he’s up on the stand saying I am.I look right at Nina though, and none of it matters. She knows what’s real. She knows what we had up there on the mountain in that cabin was real. And she knows what’s right, and what’s true.My guard nudges me, and I blink as I turn back to the circus. The prosecution and Urlech are over there smirking at me like it’s game over. Me, I’ve decid

The rest of the class goes by in a blur, and I do my best to focus, but I’m way off my game. My mind is teeming, my body strangely energized, and I make a vow right then and there that I need to stop reading so many damn romance novels. I read one or two a day, fully immersed in the escapism it brings me, and I think they’re getting to my fucking head. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic, but it wasn’t until I hit my senior year in high school I discovered romance. I’ve been a complete addict ever since. But this obsession has not served me well, especially since my particular tastes these days are always the kinky variety involving handcuffs and safewords and dominants.Everything about this man fits the bill. I could see him with a length of rope or crop in his hand as easily as I could imagine him with a cup of coffee.I blame the writer in me. My imagination is on overdrive, wondering what this man would do with my body. My ass. My mouth.Jesus, I need to get laid.I take notes d

I push past the entrance and enter the club area. To the left lies the bar and to the right, an area that almost looks like a normal club: pool tables, circular tables, comfortable chairs. It would look like a normal club, if the life-stylers here were dressed in civilian clothing. Some are, but the abundance of leathers and studs makes for a unique setting.“Hey, Geoff.” Travis, the bartender, jerks up his chin in greeting while pulling a round of beers. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Get you the regular?” He’s the youngest dom here, in his early twenties, his signature southern drawl setting him apart from the rest of the New Yorkers. He’s a Texas native and moved here for college. Now that he’s graduated, he’s here more often, and the reminder of how young he is reignites the guilt I have for getting hard over my student.“Travis.” I nod, taking the cold, frothy beer from his outstretched hand. It’s hard to be back here, but the recognition from my friends and familiarity are settin

“Fair enough,” I say tersely, taking my position from behind her. “Sir will do.”“Yes, sir,” she says, though her voice is still tight.I flog her harder than I intended, somehow needing to punish her for not giving me what I need tonight. The lash meets its target with careful precision, the bundle of leather marking her. I’m careful not to hurt her, but it feels good to wield this power. She doesn’t know why I’m punishing her, and when I’m done, she’s in a state of near-bliss, grinning, her eyes half-lidded as she slurs out a “Thank you, sir.”I’m not satisfied, though. I follow through with her aftercare in a state of semi-automation. I need to get out of here.Chapter ThreeGiadaThe next day, I sit in my car staring at the clock on my dash. I sent my essay to Professor Slade last night, and never received a reply. Has he read it yet? If he did, what did he think? Does he think I’m a silly girl he can’t take seriously? Does he think I’m playing him?Or have I affected him in anoth