Stealing Daddy’s Heart (Daddy’s Good Girl)

Chapter 11

Garrett

The Riverside building pulses with frenetic energy that sets my teeth on edge. Artists dash past, arms full of canvases and sculptures that look like they were created by a toddler on an acid trip. The smell of paint and clay is so strong I can almost taste it.

A few weeks ago, this was an empty shell. Now, it's a goddamn beehive of activity, and I'm the bear that stumbled into it.

Christ, I'm out of place here. I cringe as electronic screeches mingle with a violin's wail. Is this art, or are they torturing small animals in the back room?

I press against the wall by the entrance, scanning the crowd, cataloging faces, assessing threats. Old habits die hard, especially when you're surrounded by what appears to be the lovechild of a craft store explosion and a rave.

There's no way to vet all these people. My fingers rake through my hair as frustration mounts. There are too many variables, too much exposure. This isn't just an art show—it's a security disaster waiting to happen.

It's chaos, but there's a rhythm to it. A purpose. And at the center of it all is Skylar.

I spot her across the room, her dark hair shining under the lights, that teal streak catching my eye. She's everywhere at once, giving orders like a general.

“Softer lighting there,” she tells her staff. “We're not trying to blind anyone.”

Her team jumps to it. Skylar nods approvingly, then turns to address a nervous-looking sculptor whose creation resembles a mangled Ferris wheel made of coat hangers and dental floss.

I'm blown away. She's managing prima donnas and keeping her crew in line like it's nothing. When did my babygirl become this powerhouse?

Pride swells in my chest, but it’s tinged with something else. Worry? Fear? I'm not used to feeling this vulnerable.

It's only been a few weeks since that night at the EDM club, but Skylar has already crawled under my skin and made a home there.

My jaw clenches as I force my attention back to the crowd. Three men by the main doors catch my eye. They're too casual. Hired muscle, no doubt.

One of them, burly with a trimmed beard, meets my gaze for a moment. He looks away. Great. Just what this circus needs—a few gorillas in cheap suits.

The bearded man shifts position, his gaze fixed on Skylar. It's too keen, too calculating. My body tenses, ready to intervene. I reach instinctively for the weapon I'm not carrying. My gut twists.

Whatever these guys are planning, they won't get near her without a fight. I might be a fish out of water in this artsy-fartsy pond, but I can still bite.

“Garrett!” Skylar's voice cuts through the noise, drawing my attention.

As she weaves through the crowd, the suspicious man disappears into the throng. Skylar smiles, that cute dimple showing, and my heart stutters.

Even here, surrounded by all this “remarkable” art—and I use that term loosely—she outshines everything.

“What do you think?” she asks, waving at the bustle around us.

What do I think? I think I'd rather be dodging bullets in a war zone than trying to decipher whether that blob of color is profound or if someone spilled their drink.

But for Skylar? I'd walk through fire. Or, in this case, a sea of pretentious art snobs and their bizarre creations.

“It's colorful,” I manage, answering her question and earning a laugh that spreads warmth through my chest.

My gaze drifts back to the suspicious men by the entrance. They're gone. Alarm bells ring in my head as I scan the room, trying to locate them in the crowd. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Something's off.

I take her elbow gently. “Your office. Let's talk,” I say quietly, steering her away from the crowd.

I close the door. The gallery noise fades. It's just us now. I want to pull her close, forget everything else. It's a relief, like coming up for air after being underwater too long.

Skylar perches on the edge of the desk, her eyes fixed on me. “Everything okay, Daddy?”

Pride swells in my chest. My Skylar, so strong. I cross the room in two strides and pull her into my arms. “I needed a moment with you. How are you holding up? The show's only days away now.”

“It's intense,” she admits, her voice muffled against my chest. “But I'm handling it.”

My hands find her waist. “You're incredible out there, babygirl. I'm so proud of you.”

Skylar's cheeks flush, her eyes shining with trust and something dangerously close to love. “Thank you, Daddy.”

In only a few short weeks, she's become my world. And now, seeing how my praise affects her, I realize she needs my support, not my protection.

I cup her face and tilt it up to meet my eyes. “Remember, you've got this. But if it's too much, come to me. Understand?”

She leans into my touch, some of the tension draining from her shoulders. “Yes, Daddy.”

Her exhaustion is evident, excitement and adrenaline only carrying her so far. I guide her to the small office kitchenette, taking in her weary smile.

“When did you last eat? Drink water?” I ask, my voice firm.

“I can't remember.” Her cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink. “I've been caught up, Daddy. I forgot to eat.”

Not good enough. It's time to take care of my girl.

I pull a chair over and wedge it under the door handle. No lock, but that'll slow anyone down. Then I turn to the mini fridge, stocked with water and snacks earlier.

“Sit,” I order, gesturing to my lap. She obeys, her body relaxing into mine. I pop open a water bottle and bring it to her lips.

“Drink, babygirl.”

She gulps, her throat working.

My eyes fix on her plump lips, which drive me wild. I lean in, capturing her mouth with mine, kissing her slowly and deeply.

I withdraw, breaking the kiss with a soft suck on her lower lip. Her eyelids flutter open, revealing captivating blue and gold hues.

“Hungry?”

She nods, her gaze locked with mine.

“Daddy's taking control, babygirl. I need you strong and glowing. No more missing meals,” I gently scold her, twirling a strand of her dark hair around my finger. So soft, like silk.

My hand moves to the snacks, tearing open a packet with my teeth.

I cup her face, my thumbs brushing her delicate cheekbones. “Open up for me, Skylar.”

Skylar obeys, her trust in me absolute. I feed her slowly, savoring each moment. My fingers brush her lips as I offer a cracker. She leans in, her eyes closing in bliss.

“Chew, babygirl,” I command, my voice thick with unspoken longing.

She complies without hesitation, an adorable dimple appearing as she swallows. “More, Daddy.”

The crackers are gone too soon. I brush away a stray crumb from her lips, my thumb caressing her lower lip. She shivers at my touch, desire darkening her eyes.

I offer her a cube of cheese this time, guiding it between her parted lips. My breath catches as her tongue teases my skin, sucking the cheese from my finger. My pulse races as my finger slips free, trailing down her jaw and along her neck. I want to brand this beautiful throat with my possession.

The hum of the gallery outside fades away. It's only us in this quiet, intimate space.

A soft moan escapes her as I stroke the sensitive skin below her ear. “You're doing so well, Skylar. Such a good girl.”

“I want to please you, Daddy,” she whispers, her voice thick with desire.

I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. “You already do, every single day.”

She trembles, her breath growing shallow. My praise affects her. It's a power I don't take lightly.

Our lips meet in a hungry kiss, her taste sweet and addictive. My hands tangle in her hair as our kisses grow urgent and fevered. It's wild and all-consuming.

I pull away, breathless. “You're going to be the end of me, Skylar Bennett.”

She smiles, mischief sparking in her eyes. “Then, Daddy, I guess I'll have to keep you around.”

“But now,” I continue, my voice low and husky, “it's time for a different kind of pleasure.”

Skylar shivers under my touch. “Daddy wants to play, babygirl,” I murmur against her lips. “Lift those arms for me.”

She obeys, and I pull her dress up, my eyes feasting on her body. “Beautiful,” I whisper, running my fingers along her thighs. She parts her legs, inviting me closer.

Her breath hitches as my fingers dip lower, tracing the edge of her silk panties. “Such smooth skin, Skylar. Daddy's gonna mark it, make it clear you're mine.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she breathes, need lacing her voice. “Please.”

I grin. She wants to beg? I'll make her. My fingers tease the elastic of her panties, but I don't slip inside. Not yet. “Eager, babygirl?”

“Y-yes, Daddy. I need you.”

I slide my hand under her thigh, lifting her leg over my hip. Her dress rides up, baring her to me. She's gorgeous like this—open and wanton.

“You like being on display for Daddy, Skylar? Showing off that pretty pussy?”

“Oh, Daddy,” she moans, her face flushed. “I do.”

“That's my girl.” I stroke her gently, my touch teasing and light. “But you've been neglecting to take care of yourself, haven't you? Forgetting to eat and getting all worked up?—”

She whimpers. “I'm sorry, Daddy. Will you punish me?”

“Oh, I will, babygirl. Because you deserve a spanking for neglecting to take care of yourself.” I slip a finger inside her—slow and deep. “But first, I want to feel how wet my babygirl is for me.”

Her hips buck as I add a second finger, her walls clenching around me. I thrust in a steady rhythm, knowing exactly how to make her melt.

“Look at me, Skylar,” I command. She meets my gaze, her eyes hazy with desire. “You're so gorgeous like this—all spread out for me. You want more, babygirl?”

“Y-yes, Daddy. Please, I need?—”

I hate to deny Skylar anything, but she knows the rules, and she's earned this punishment. She whimpers softly, biting her lip. Hell, I want her, but my babygirl needs this. Discipline and guidance—that's what I offer.

I crave this too, but it's not about me. It's about what she needs, and right now, my little rebel requires some restraint.

“Relax, baby,” I croon, stroking her hair. “You know how well you can take it. We've done this before, babygirl. You know the rules.”

She holds my gaze, the spark still there but now banked. “Y-yes, Daddy.”

I sit in one of the office chairs. Skylar's pupils are huge, almost swallowing the blue and gold of her eyes. She's worked up, and the stress is there, hiding under the surface.

“You're going to take what Daddy gives you. Understand?”

She nods, transfixed by my gaze.

“Tell me, Skylar.”

“Y-yes, Daddy. I'll take what you give me.”

I point to her panties. “Take them off, babygirl. Then lie over my lap.”

She hooks her thumbs into the silk waistband, her cheeks flaming, and slides the panties down her thighs. Another rush of desire hits me—a Molotov cocktail in my gut. Christ, she's perfect like this—all exposed.

Skylar folds herself over my legs, her body soft and yielding. Her ass is a work of art—heart-shaped and round.

I caress her cheeks, giving her a moment to adjust. She whimpers, squirming a little.

I lean in, my breath hot against her ear. “You ready, Skylar? Gonna feel my hand on that beautiful ass now?”

“Y-yes, please, Daddy,” she manages, her voice breathy.

My palm meets her flesh, starting gently and building intensity. Soon, my handprints mark her skin—a scarlet blaze. Skylar squirms, soft sounds of pleasure escaping her lips, but she doesn't beg me to stop. My girl can take it.

“You’re taking it well, Skylar. Daddy's proud.” I pause, my hand resting on her heated skin. “Are you ready for more?”

“Oh god, yes, Daddy. Please,” she pants, her voice thick with need.

I give her what she craves, hitting that sweet spot that makes her moan and writhe. Her sounds fill the room—music to my ears. I love how she gives herself over, how she submits to me. Skylar's skin is a canvas of crimson, marked by my hand, and my cock is harder than ever.

“You've been so good for Daddy, Skylar,” I praise, gently kneading her stinging flesh. “Now it's time for your reward.”

I angle her hips up, my fingers finding her slick entrance. She's soaked and ready for me. I thrust two fingers deep, relishing her keen cry.

“Such a responsive pussy, Skylar. Daddy's girl.”

My fingers curl, hitting that sweet spot, and she cries out, her body arching off the desk. “Oh god, Daddy, right there,” she pants. “Please don't stop.”

I pump my fingers, firm and true, my palm pressing hard against her sensitive clit. Skylar bucks against me, lost in sensation.

She's close. So damn close. I can feel it.

“Come for Daddy, Skylar. Let go.”

My command pushes her over the edge. Her body shudders, her walls clenching around my fingers as she rides out her release. Her cries fill the room, her body shaking with the force of it.

But then her moans get louder, and I remember where we are. Christ, anyone could walk in.

I clamp my hand over her mouth, silencing her. Surprise flashes in her eyes, but I see the desire burning there.

“Hush, babygirl,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with need. “I'll give you something else to fill that pretty mouth with if you don't quiet down.”

I hold her as the aftershocks rock her. “That's it, babygirl. Daddy's got you.”

Skylar's body slowly relaxes, her breathing evening out. When she comes down, her cheeks are flushed, and her chest heaves. She turns to me, satisfaction clouding her gaze.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispers. “I needed that.”

I want to claim her right here, right now. But we can't—not with the gallery full of people just outside.

My voice is hoarse with want. “We should get back out there, babygirl. You've got a show to run.”