All Chapters of Wanting His Father; Daddy Dom/ LG Forbidden Romance: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

IRIS By the time I make my tea and retreat to my bedroom, I’ve nearly convinced myself I’m being foolish and stupid and paranoid.The house is old and sprawling, Margaret is attentive and completely emotionless. I’m tired, overaware, still tender from a night that opened too many locked rooms inside me. Not every strange feeling is a warning. Sometimes a misplaced book is only a misplaced book; sometimes a woman who has run a household for years simply knows when someone needs a bath.I tell myself this while peeling off damp clothes and wrapping myself in a robe. I tell myself this again when I find a silver hairpin lying on the bedside table. The hairpin should be in the bathroom… in Daddy’s bathroom.I remember him placing it beside the tub last night, after he removed it from my curls with those slow, careful fingers that made the simplest gesture feel intimate enough to bruise. The memory brings heat to my face before confusion can fully settle.Perhaps I moved it. Perhaps he did

THOMASI feel the impact of her words far more sharply than she probably intends. Of course I know her work history because I had investigated it before Edward married her, and I knows the terms of the prenuptial agreement because I negotiated the damn document myself. At the time, the clause had seemed practical, even necessary: no outside employment, no independent public-facing business interests during the marriage, nothing that could be used by the press, competitors, or opportunists to complicate Edward’s life. I hadn’t thought of it as cruelty then; it was containment.But now, looking at her, I feel the old legal language become something colder in my hands. A cage can be beautifully drafted… but it's still a cage.The fire shifts, sending gold across her face, and some guarded place inside her seems to open just slightly, and suddenly I understand something that should have occurred to me weeks ago. Iris has spent so long adapting herself to other people's expectations that a

THOMAS The heavy oak door creaks open, and there she is – my little princess, my sweet baby girl – on her knees in the center of my dimly lit bedroom, bare skin flushed under the soft amber glow of the bedside lamp. She’s trembling slightly, her small hands resting palms-up on her slim thighs, perfect pink nipples pebbled tight from the cool air and the weight of my dark gaze. I shed my clothes downstairs, so I step inside now completely naked, my thick cock already half-hard and jutting forward. In one hand, I clutch the tie from my suit, and the other is coiled with four lengths of soft silk rope. My salt-and-pepper chest hair catches the light as I close the door behind me, the click echoing like a promise.“Baby girl.”She looks up at me, her eyes moving over my cock, my chest, my face. “Yes, Daddy?”“Tonight, I want you to voluntarily hand over control to me.” Slowly, I extend the rope to her, show her the tie. “All control.”She gasps. “Oh. Oh, God.”“OK, that’s a good start,”

IRISI wake before the sun, and for a long moment, I don't know where I am.The room is dim and silver-blue with early morning light, the curtains still half-drawn against the cliffs beyond the windows, and everything feels soft around the edges in that strange way the world sometimes does between sleep and waking. Outside, rain taps softly against the windows; the storm has lingered through the night.Then I remember.The restraints, the blindfold. Daddy’s mouth on my pussy, Daddy’s cock deep inside me, the three earth-shattering orgasms that have left my legs gloriously achy this morning. His voice as he told me that I’m beautiful, perfect, such a good girl, all his. His arms around me in the darkness afterward as I tumbled into a deep, sated sleep.And suddenly every inch of me becomes aware of the man sleeping beside me. My gaze drifts slowly over him.The dark silver threaded through his hair. The shadow of stubble along his jaw. The strong line of his throat. The faint lines at

THOMASSlowly, I lift my hand and touch her hair, and she raises her head, rests a hand against my cheek. Without even thinking, I turn my head slightly, pressing the faintest brush of a kiss into her palm.For a moment I simply stare at her lush beauty, her pink lips, her glowing eyes. Then I lean forward, trapping her tighter against the tile, and I kiss her. It’s soft, tender, slow. Not because either of us lacks desire, but because desire isn't the most important thing happening between us right now. Trust is. The kiss lingers for several quiet heartbeats before we separate, and her forehead comes to rest lightly against mine."There's that smile," I murmur."What smile, Daddy?”"The real one."She looks down, and I gently nudge her chin upward again. "No hiding, baby girl.”The colour in her cheeks only deepens. I watch her try to look away, watch the instinctive retreat begin to gather behind her eyes, and then watch her stop herself halfway through it. That, more than anything