It had been all Lawrence could do to refuse Joy the first time she'd asked. Her pleading, those pale little lips calling him Daddy, had nearly pulled the sense from him, and when she fell asleep he'd taken his aching groin into the shower to release the tension.
He was glad he'd managed to wait for her to warm up properly. She'd slept soundly for nearly 24 hours, too.
Still, he'd had sex with her sooner than he planned to.
He wanted to see the tears streaming down her beautiful face, leaving harsh pink streaks in their wake. To hear her pitiful meows, begging him to stop. Begging him for mercy.
Yes, he wanted to hurt her.
But never
harm
her.
He would let her recover more before he was too rough.
~~~
Two more days and her energy was back, along with the quiet curiousity in her eyes from the first time he'd seen her.
He hadn't left her side, afraid she'd disappear on him again. But he'd finally teased out the misunderstanding that had driven her away.
If only he'd written "I want you" in the letter. He'd left too much room for misinterpretation, and both their insecurities had failed them.
But he'd learned from it, and she was with him now. And she was well again.
All was well.
"You walked from here?" He shook his head at her as they pulled up to the cafe. "That must have taken hours."
"Oh... less than two I think. The bus was at 12:55, and then I texted you... my phone died right after. It doesn't like the cold."
She sat forward in the seat, touching buttons on the dash but not pressing them. "What's this one for?"
"Traction control. Keeps the tires from spinning on ice."
Her eyes and hair reflected the dark orange tones of autumn in the dim morning light, giving her a look of smoky warmth when she smiled back at him. Joy was different and yet the same, everywhere she went.
And she was
his
.
And she'd be even more
his
, beginning today.
"Should we get you packed up?"
She nodded, and followed.
~~~
The room Joy lived in--until today, of course--was small and plain. Her bed was made, but rumpled. Her bathroom was out in the hallway, but it looked like she kept her toiletries in a caddy next to her door.
She'd left a lamp on over some textbooks on her desk. Lawrence stepped over to look at them.
"Literature?"
"One of my minors. I'm behind, though. I'll have to work on that tonight."
Joy pulled a suitcase out from under the bed, and started transferring clothing into it. It looked like all of it would fit.
"What's your major?"
"Legal studies."
"You want to be a lawyer?"
Joy coughed a little, like she'd gotten a hairball caught in her throat. He raised an eyebrow at her until she replied.
"Not... really. No"
He waited.
"It's what my scholarship paid for," she said simply.
He nodded.
Makes sense.
Lawrence found a pack of post-its in a desk drawer, and marked the pages her books were open to. Then he tucked them carefully into an empty bin she'd pulled out of the closet.
~~~
Everything Joy owned, aside from her bedding, fit into three bins and a suitcase in the hall.
She went over the room one more time while he watched from the doorway. Eventually, she looked satisfied she'd found everything. But she still stood in the centre of the room, tugging at her sleeves. Meek and undecided.
With that head tilt...
Lawrence growled low and quiet.
Everything about her could set him off. He ached for her--
And why shouldn't he have what was
his
, any time he wanted?
He closed the door carefully, and locked it.
She was still lost in her own thoughts when he stepped forward, pressing his body close to hers and reaching a hand down past her bottom. Gripping her firmly where the back of her thigh met her crotch.
She yelped, startled, and tried to push away. "We're-- they'll start arriving downstairs soon. We should go."
He squeezed her thigh, then reached out a finger to tease at her crotch, stroking her through her snug jeans. She whimpered and buckled against him.
"Daddy," she whispered, "no. They'll hear us."
Her whisper fanned the fire in his chest and his groin. He guided her backwards to the one empty spot on her wall, using his free hand to unbutton her jeans. Then he pressed his palm to her belly and slid it down, past the lace waistband of her panties.
"Then you'll have to be quiet, won't you, little kitten?"
He pressed farther, past her soft curls of hair, until he could press his middle finger up between her folds.
She slickened so quickly for him.
"No-- no, please-- they can't hear us-- they don't know I--"
"They don't know what?" He lifted both hands to press her jeans down at the waistband. She tensed, trying to keep them on.
"They don't need to know I've had sex," she hissed.
He forced the jeans down over her bottom, and the undies went with them.
She fought him, trying to pull them back up.
The jeans were snug, and the hem of her hoodie kept falling down to cover her. This was a fight he might not win if he wasn't strategic.
He grabbed her hair. Dragged her by it, down over the desk beside them.
Joy cried out, her struggle interrupted.
"Like I said, kitten,"
He shoved her into place, and the desk jolted under them, dragging loudly on the hardwood floor. He leaned forward to speak softly to her.
