Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Am I ready for this?
Chapter Two
I take a deep breath as I follow Layla into the living room. Her Daddy, Theo, is incredibly wealthy. His home is huge and extravagant. I’ve never lived anywhere this nice. Layla has told me he’s a commercial real estate agent. I guess they make good money.
Tate has already arrived, and both men stand from where they’re sitting on the giant sectional as we enter.
Layla runs toward Theo and jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as if she hasn’t seen him for months instead of the fifteen minutes it’s been since he last checked on us upstairs.
I shuffle into the room slower, rubbing my hands together, feeling more self-conscious than I ever have in my life. Maybe this was a mistake. I’m out of my element.
Tate—looking as handsome as he always does—gives me his award-winning smile and comes toward me. I wonder if he will hold out a hand to shake mine or what we might do as a greeting. Shaking his hand feels weird. It’s not like I’ve never met him.
His smile grows as he approaches. “Sophia, you look so pretty in that dress.” Instead of taking my hand, he cups my cheek and strokes my chin with his thumb.
My heart is racing, and my breath hitches as I tip my head back to look up at him. I’m five-four. He’s a foot taller than me. His height and stature are part of what attracts me to him. That and his thick brown hair and green eyes. The dimples on his cheeks when he smiles. His broad shoulders and muscles that make it look like he could easily lift me right off the floor and hold me the way Theo is holding Layla—effortlessly with a hand under her bottom.
But what I love most about Tate is the stern expression evident in the lines on his forehead even when he’s smiling. He has that expression now, and it makes me shiver.
Sometimes at the Dungeon, I enjoy watching him from across the room and pretend he’s the most powerful, firm Daddy in the world. It’s all made up in my head, of course. I have no idea if he’s as stern as he looks or not. I’m also not sure I would enjoy the level of dominance he exudes in real life.
My experience with domination is pretty limited, considering I’m a member of a kink club and visit it frequently. I’ve seen every kind of kink. I’ve watched Doms and subs throughout the club and witnessed many forms of bondage and impact play. I’ve seen fire play and knife play. I’ve held my breath as I glued my eyes to suspension play and other extreme rope play.
I’m mostly a voyeur. The only thing I’ve personally explored is spanking. It’s always more-or-less arranged. Layla, Amelia, and I had become experts at pretending to argue or fight in order to get the attention of surrounding Doms so they would discipline us.
That was before Amelia and her Daddy, Noah, got together and moved to the island. Soon afterward, Layla met Theo and moved in with him. They haven’t come to the Dungeon together since Layla started living with Theo.
That has often left me alone at the club with no one to perform with in order to draw attention to myself. I’ve learned I’m not very good at asking someone to spank me, so it’s been a while since I’ve had the experience. I’m actually itching to have someone’s palm on my butt.
The best spanker of all is the man currently cupping my cheek and smiling down at me. There’s no way I could possibly ask him to swat my bottom tonight. Not in Theo and Layla’s home. That would be weird. The thought makes me clench my butt cheeks, though.
Tate lifts his hand from my face to stroke one of my pigtails. “Did you switch to a different shade of blue, Little one? This looks darker than last time I saw you.”
My breath hitches. I’m stunned. I can’t believe he would notice something like that. I nod. “Yes, Sir.” I swallow after I mutter those words. Should I call him Sir? We aren’t at the club. It’s very confusing. The lines are blurred. I wonder how Layla does this.
“I like it. And it’s an exact match with the polka dots on your dress tonight.”
“Thank you.”
Theo clears his throat a few yards from us. “Layla and I are going to go put the finishing touches on dinner. Why don’t you two have a seat? We’ll be back soon.” Layla is still wrapped all around him like a monkey, and I find myself envious of their relationship. I’ve never dreamed of having that sort of connection with someone.
For me, being Little is a tiny part of me I indulge a few hours a week. It makes me feel free to set my adult aside and relax to color, play with toys, do puzzles, and create imaginary mischief. I read books about Daddies and Littles, but it’s never seemed like something I could actually live in real life.