cursing, petal. And this isn’t about you coming, this is about you settling down and listening to your Daddy. Letting me take care of you the way you’ve been asking for ever since you walked in. If you want me to stop, just say so, but baby, you really can trust me to give you what you need, so please let me show you that.”
Shit shit shit. My breath hitched. Who fucking said shit like that?
I licked my lips, my heart pounding so hard I was legit feeling dizzy. “I don’t… um, I don’t need this.”
Because that would be dumb, wouldn’t it? Cock, you could find anywhere, but start needing this, him, and I’d be screwed.
“Are you telling me to stop?” Andy asked, his whole body going still.
“You haven’t even started,” I snapped, because of course I did. My mouth was out of fucking control and there was no way Andy wasn’t going to get sick of hearing the crap spewing out of it. Case in point? He’d been petting my ass up until now, rubbing and kneading it and starting to send all those stupidly calming floaty feelings creeping through me, just like he always did whenever he touched me. But now it looked like all that “I’m in charge” shit was out the window like he’d never meant it at all.
Why had he even given me an out like that?
He was just going to let me say stop after he’d told me I needed it?
Say whatever the fuck I wanted to now, and quit deciding shit for me?
All it had taken was one word too much from me, and we were suddenly done?
I mean, fine. Whatever. Having it over was almost a relief compared to how tight my stomach had gotten while I’d been waiting for him to end things.
I started to roll off him.
“Jordan,” he said quietly, stopping me just with that.
A horribly needy sound snuck out of my throat, and I ducked my head as another wave of total humiliation washed over me.
He knew. He fucking knew I didn’t really want him to stop. And I didn’t know how he fucking did it, turned on that Daddy-voice and made my name sound like an entire conversation, but that shit I’d said to him earlier about how much younger he was than me? It was hard to remember and even harder to care about. Hard not to buy into all the I’m-your-Daddy bullshit he spewed when he said my name like that. Like it mattered. Like he’d mastered some kind of ultrasonic tone or whatever, specifically designed to send shivers racing through me. To make me feel like we really weren’t playing, like this was all real and he meant it and that even ass up and embarrassed as all fuck like I was right now, I was still… safe.
“Are you ready now?” he asked, starting up with that hypnotizing petting action again.
“No,” I said, because I was constitutionally incapable of not fucking up a good thing… and sure enough, he stopped petting me again.
Fine, I fucking was ready. Beyond ready. I wanted every fucking thing he’d said, even this stupid unsexy spanking-in-the-kitchen bullshit, but I didn’t want him to say so. I didn’t want him to keep fucking asking me. I just wanted him to do it. To be in charge like he kept saying he was. I wanted Daddy to decide, but instead he’d stopped and it wasn’t like he was going to keep giving me endless extra chances to be a fucking brat to him, to throw a snit, to keep telling him no until he really did give up on me, to—
Wait… shit. I suddenly couldn’t breathe right. Had I seriously just called Andy “Daddy” in my head, like for real?
If he was fucking with me, if I was dumb enough to fall for this and then it all turned out to be nothing more than some kinky sex game of his, if he was going to ditch me once we were done and go find another dumbshit to spank and call petal and make stupidly tempting promises to, then I was… I was… I couldn’t...
Fuck.
I legit didn’t know if I could take it if this wasn’t real, not now that it had already gotten this far.
“Ah, okay,” Andy finally said, sounding like he’d just had a whole conversation that I’d missed out on while I’d been busy freaking the fuck out. He started petting my ass again. “I’m going to just go