His Precious Little Princess Ch 01

HIS PRECIOUS LITTLE PRINCESS

Chapter 1 - Liz

I take the exit that will take me to my destination.

Home.

This semester has been the longest thing I've ever had to endure. Being in school, assignments, classes, exams, and everything else. I thought I was prepared; I honestly wasn't.

And amongst the most difficult of realities I had to face was being away from him.

The only person in this whole forsaken world I care for more than my own life: Daddy.

After being raised by him alone since my mother left when I was 10, it's been me and him pretty much. Everyday. And he is my best friend. After going from spending every day and every minute I wasn't at school with him, going from that to seeing him once in 5 months has been a brutal change. For me and him.

Although I was 400 miles away, I was so busy we couldn't even have enough time to talk like we used to. And after the incident that happened before I left, I think he has been avoiding me a little.

When I went for Christmas, we had a great time, but we practically had his second cousin and her husband over the whole time. It felt distant and I can't fault him for wanting some distance between us.

And although we talked about it briefly and I apologized and he accepted the apology, he just hasn't been as open and it crushed me.

But now is spring and I am going to see him. And it's going to be a surprise too. I told him I was going with a few friends to Miami but I will do no such thing. I am finally going to make the situation right because I want our relationship right again.

The song on the radio gets disturbed when a call comes through. I smile to myself when I see it's my roommate. The second person I've ever called friend. And it turned out we had more in common than I thought, and what a relief it was.

I press on the steering wheel to answer.

"Bitch." I say affectionately.

"Your mama." She giggles on the other side.

"Rude," I answer and she snorts on the line.

"So where are you? Home yet?" She asks with a tone that gives away her curiosity. I don't blame her. After the last conversation we had before her flight yesterday, I'm sure she wants to know.

"I am an hour away. Not there yet." I say.

"Ooh, and are you nervous?"

"A little. For one, what if he isn't there and he is away for the weekend." I hadn't really considered that. Although my father does have some friends, he isn't that close to anyone. I am his everything, he would say as much himself.

"Oh, come on. He's home. Probably watching Seinfeld."

I let out a little chuckle. "I swear you are starting to know him more than I know him now."

"You talk about him 24/7. How could I not." I hear her eye roll even on this end.

"Like you don't spend every waking second telling me about dear old uncle." I tease.

"You will shut your mouth."

I chuckle. "Why? Shy suddenly. Is he there?"

She pauses and it seems a door opens and closes. "No. Still at the old hell house." she pauses. "But he's coming tonight. His jet landed a few minutes ago." I hear the excitement.

"Someone's excited."

"Oh, Liz, you don't understand what that big fat dick does."

I laugh. "You dirty little cock-hungry hoe."

She laughs. "You would be too if you were me. And I don't doubt once you get what you want too you will be insatiable."

"I still think you should have just gone to the mountains like he wanted," I say.

There is a pause on the line before I hear her exhale. "You know Joe and Marie would have killed me if I didn't come to see Sarah's latest miracle."

I laugh. Clarissa's sister is 28 but she just had her fourth child with her third baby's father. And she swears this one will tie her down and marry her. Which will be her second marriage.

Not that I'm judging or anything, but what irks me about the whole thing is their parents always take Sarah's side when she berates Clarissa for living a life of fun, but see nothing wrong with her popping out babies constantly that she couldn't afford to feed without her parent's money.

And she has the worst taste in men. Her type seems to be broke potheads who live in their parent's basement and have podcasts that talk about masculine men while they don't maintain their own kids. Just jokes all around.

"Just smile politely. It's just 2 weeks there and then..."

"Then I will wake up and sleep dripping come." She makes a happy noise.

"You are depraved," I say in fake disgust.

"That's why we are friends."

An idea springs on me suddenly. "Hey, maybe if everything goes well, we can take our depraved asses to Hawaii sometime."

"Just us or with the men?"

"The men? We don't have any men, Clarissa Michaels."

She laughs. "Maybe you aren't going to make your claim but I am. I want to see you this summer and it would be sick if we had them there." I sense more deviousness she isn't saying.

"Only if you aren't thinking about sharing because I'll shank you if you touch what's mine," I warn.

"Look at you. Already possessive."

I realize what she is saying. Did I just really do that?

"Don't do that," she says quickly.

"Do what?" I furrow my brows like she can see me.

"Don't you start overthinking, berating yourself for what you feel. What you feel is valid."

I take a moment, her words not sinking in as the old feelings of guilt and being wrong rear their ugly head. "What if it goes wrong?"

There is silence for a few seconds. "At least you would have put your feelings out there. And besides, he can't hate you."

I snort. "He could."

"The man would never survive without you. Give yourself a little more credit." She emphasizes.

"Look, I have to go. I'm almost there." I say.

"I'll text you later. Maybe I'll even record it for you." She says naughtily.

"You belong in an institution," I say.

"Bye, hoe." She says and we end the call.

The time flew by. I think I needed this.

I clutch the steering a little tighter when I take the exit from the main road to our suburb. My heart beats a little faster. Many things passing through it. What if this is a really really bad idea?

What if I find him with a woman?

The thought makes even more jealousy rise inside me. It makes me remember the last time he dated. Or at least attempted it. She lasted a total of 3 dates. Although I didn't think it was anything at the time, I know now that maybe I was a little jealous. I was incensed she would take him away from me. I mean, what if he married her and they had other kids?

But he broke up with her and said she wasn't what he wanted. His life being my father was all he needed. Everything went back to normal. School during the day, father and daughter cooking evenings, movie night Fridays, errand Saturdays, and relaxation Sundays. Perfection.

I lost much of that because of college, but even before that, I fucked things up when I made an immature move that made him give me a look he's never given me before. It was a week before college and the subsequent days were torture, I spent days locked up in my room and he'd just bring me food and leave it outside my door.

I berated myself for weeks until Clarissa made me crack open and tell her all my secrets. I was sure she'd tell me I was the devil incarnate. What I told her was the extreme taboo.

My budding feelings for my father. But in response, she told me about her own salacious thing with her uncle. A man I've met a few times when he picks us up. Me as a cover, of course, while they go at it like rabbits.

He'd book hotels for them and I was just happy for the room service and break from the dorms. Plus, the stories she came back with were epic.

Clarissa became the blessing in my life I didn't even know I needed. It's a shame the things we desire are so frowned upon. She and her uncle can't even come out to their family.

It makes me a little happy that I don't have any large family. Father was an only child of only children. All cousins are 2nd and further.

I pass the security gate and pass the first suburban houses. The houses get larger and more isolated as I go until I get to my house. I drive the long driveway beyond the long treeline to my house.

I exhale when I finally see it.

Home.

My heart almost comes out of my throat the closer I get. The garage door opens and I park. I take my backpack, jumping out of the car, and finding it odd that he hasn't come to welcome me. Maybe he really isn't home.

But maybe that'll work to my advantage. I walk upstairs after making sure he isn't in his office. Before I go to my room, I pass by his room and I push the door open and I don't find him.

A sting of disappointment makes me regret not announcing my return. But I fish my phone out deciding to just text him. I fire up the chat as I push my door open.

The large lump of a naked man is snoring lightly, splayed in my bed. The sight makes me feel all warm. I wonder if he sleeps here every day. I take a moment before he wakes up and everything must come to the fore and I potentially get rejected again to admire his amazing build. Wetness pools in my lower regions but I feel no shame this time.

It's only a shame that he is on his stomach and I can't see all of him. I salivate at his firm ass, the cords of his muscles. How his back is rippled with muscles, making my hand itch to touch him. I get closer, albeit carefully.

The conviction of what I must confront settles in me when I realize that the worse he can say is no.

"Daddy."

He doesn't move. The temptation to lean in and touch him visits me but I squash it quickly.

I clear my throat loudly and try again.

"Daddy."

He moves this time with a groan and he gets on his side. His erection jumps forward and I stare as he fists his cock, his eyes still closed. He must not know I'm here.

"Daddy."

His eyes fly open and horror takes over his features and he hides himself quickly.

"Sweetheart, what are you..." he looks beside and behind me like maybe I'll disappear before he returns his gaze to me. It lingers on my cleavage, one I did just for him, and his eyes give him away for a split second before he clears his throat, shaking his head, his face hardening. "What are you doing here?"

The force of the words this time feels like a hard slap in the face. Like I am unwelcome. I open my mouth to say something but an unexplainable amount of hurt fills my chest and I find myself retreating. My feet carry me out, as the tears blur my face and I walk out.

Coming here was a mistake. He hates me.

The omnibus of those words repeat in my head as I run down the stairs.

Chapter 2 -- Liam

Fuck.

Fucking fuck.

I jump out of bed. My mind all over the place as I think about the last minute. I had been enjoying a dream, one I'd tried to fight with for over a year. One that was the reason that even in my mid-life I was still waking up hard as steel. But she wasn't supposed to see it. I'm a screw-up of a dad. Just some things aren't meant for daughters to see.

I take the sweatpants I'd slid off to lay in her bed earlier when I was missing her too much. The naked part was mostly supposed to be my own secret.

Fuck, I should probably change her sheets too. I do get carried away sometimes. Her scent drives me feral and when I lose my moral fight with myself, I compromise with defiling her bed sheets. That way I fulfil my depraved thoughts and she is kept safe away from me. I hear her reaching the bottom of the stairs.

I make the quick connection that she may attempt to leave. My baby girl is a sensitive one. But she doesn't understand. I can never see her that way, neither should she.

I run down the stairs, taking a few at a time. I sprint across the kitchen to the garage where her car is humming low.

I can't let her leave.

We have been a bit weird since the last time and I really want us to move past this and get back to us.

Her car starts driving off but I bang on her passenger window. She doesn't look my way but I see the tears rolling down her face. Her beautiful face. A face never meant to be tainted with tears or unhappiness. She brushes them away with the back of her hand but she doesn't turn to me.

"Lizzie." I knock, wanting her to lower the window. She does.

I swallow, wanting to find the right words, words that won't make her put her foot on the paddle.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry for my behavior. Please come back inside."

Her gaze meets mine and it crushes me.

"Let me in, Lizzie," I say, surprising myself at the double meaning, wishing with all my heart it could mean everything I know she hopes it does.

She unlocks the door and I go around and open her door. When she doesn't look like she wants to get off, I take her hand. She gets off the car and her face cranes to mine.

God she is breathtaking.

"Come on. Let's do this again."

He smiles a sad smile before she snakes her arms around my waist and she hugs me tightly. I reciprocate instantly, glad she hasn't thrown me away. My lips kiss the top of her head like I always do.

"Welcome home, Sweetheart."

We stand there for entire minutes as I brush her golden locks and her back. When her gaze meets mine, she has her beautiful sparkle back and I see my girl again. She smiles a little and says, "I should have told you I'm coming. I'm sorry."

While that is true, it wasn't necessary. She isn't a guest here and I should have been a less shitty parent. With my knuckles, I brush her pink cheeks, my gaze involuntarily lowering to her puffy lips, and my whole body hungers instantly.

"This is your home. You don't have to. I am sorry. You should never see that."

Her eyes close briefly and she nods. "We can just reset and delete that and start over."

I smile down at her and kiss her nose and she rewards me with a giggle. The sound filling my chest with immense joy.

"Alright, let me get your bags and we'll settle you in and you can rest."

She frowns, making me mirror her reaction. "It's Friday, daddy."

Ignoring how that last word makes me feel, I push out a smile. "You have been driving, aren't you tired?"

She shakes her head with a pout, batting her brown lashes at me and I know I won't be able to deny her anything, like always.

"One movie only and off you go to bed."

"We'll see." She says and I shake my head, untangling my arms around her and she finally steps back.

"How many bags do you have packed?" I ask, turning to the back.

"Why don't you see for yourself." She says.

"Go upstairs, I'll bring them. What would you like to eat." I always have a meal prepared for her when she comes but seeing that I wasn't expecting her, she was supposed to be in Miami, an idea I wasn't comfortable with in the first place because I wanted her near.

I find the shower running when I get to her room and I have to ignore my ungodly urges as I unpack her most urgent things. I also use that time to change her sheets. At least now I have an excuse to change her sheets.

If she had come home and found me downstairs I wouldn't have had any reason to change her sheets without outing myself. I make quick work of everything and by the time I am putting clean sheets in, the water stops.

She walks out with a towel wrapped around her waist as I pick up the used sheets on the loveseat in her room.

My eyes avert her body quickly and I look elsewhere.

I feel her gaze on my back and it is now I remember I am topless.

"Thank you, daddy." She mutters before I walk out of the door and I look at her over my shoulder and I smile at her. "Always, my sweet girl."

I don't make it to the laundry room and I decide to dump the sheets in my laundry basket in my bathroom and just take it down tomorrow. I leave them and then go to the closet and I pick a white shirt. While I'm at it, I wear boxers. As agonized as my cock is, I pinch it to set it down a little. It doesn't help.

But I stuff my horny tidbits and I cover myself, pushing everything immoral to the back of my head and looking forward to daddy and daughter movie night. Although me and Liz basically did everything together when she wasn't at school, Friday nights were my favorite.

I hurry downstairs and I hear the TV already playing when I descend. I find her in front of the ridiculously large screen I bought at her beckoning. We needed an upgrade and when we saw this monstrosity, she batted her lashes at me and I had no choice.

"The pizza arrived." She points with her head.

"I'll get the popcorn ready," I say as I head to the kitchen.

"How about Poison?" she says.

I lift my eyes to see a skull, with blood in it, shaking my head, I say, "How about I don't collect your vomit off my chest tonight?" I tease and she whips her head back to me with a glare.

I raise my hands in surrender. "I just mean something less...bloody."

"I've been wanting to watch Dedication. Some friends say it's good."

"The romantic comedy?" I close the lid on the popcorn.

I got us used to homemade popcorn. As a child, her mother liked everything that was quick. A fault of mine.

When she was young, I was too focused on working I didn't realize my wife was plotting her exit. I was always there for my daughter when it mattered but I left most of the parenting to her, while I showed up for the good times.

Her leaving was a wake-up call to me, and I may hate her but her leaving gifted me the greatest experience of my life. One I would have never taken as seriously. Being a full-time father.

I took less work, and eventually, I appointed a CEO for my company and I was focused fully on being a father. A privilege I am forever grateful for.

When I don't recall hearing her response, I find her eyes and she is staring at me. "You have that look on your face." She says with a tint of displeasure.

"What look?" I pull the bowl from the cupboard and I pick out the seasoning.

"When you remember her."

Her solemn face makes me smile sadly. "It's not sad this time. I'm just thinking about how grateful I am to her she left when she did. We might have never had the relationship we had had I still been working like I was." I say honestly, emptying the now-done popcorn in it.

"I'm glad she did." She confesses and I have no response for that. I don't want her to hate her mother, but I also can't make her not be resentful to someone who left her behind like she was old clothes.

"She's still your mother," I say as expected and she rolls her eyes before she selects the movie.

"She didn't think so."

I don't respond and sit down, placing the bowl in the table. I bring the rest of the snacks and then we sit on the couch. She lays her head on my lap like she likes to do and we settle as the movie starts.

I focus on the movie more than I have ever focused on anything else in my entire life. Her head moving ever so slightly, making me wish I could unhook myself from my own dick and place it in ice so it can cool off.

I just know I cannot go down that rabbit hole and I internally dismiss her little touches. I need to be the strong one between us. She clearly is just confused and she doesn't understand what she is doing. Maybe she just wanted to experiment. Whatever reason it is, I know I need to stand firm.

She settles and doses off at some point, my hand still brushing her hair. I follow after her and I descend in a dreamless sleep.

The most wonderful feeling overtakes my body. I am floating in a dream. It feels like being in a tight wet pussy. Sinking my cock in it. Blue eyes flash in front of me and it spurs me on.

My hands touch my cock and I stroke myself. Fuck this feels amazing.

Like a sudden drop with a thud, my eyes blink open and the amazing feeling from my dream doesn't stop. The most horrific realization dawns on me and I immediately want to exit my body. I pull the blanket off the lithe body that was supposed to be just sleeping on my lap to find something that makes me still.