Daddies of the Castle Read online

  “Three, thank—” Her words were interrupted by the sob which had been building in her chest for some time and, to her absolute dismay, Nayla burst into tears.

  How could Kurt have done that to her?

  She was vaguely aware of her ankles being released and herself being helped gently off the desk, and the next moment, her tears—and runny nose—were soaking Master Marshall’s crisp shirt. “Let it out,” he murmured, stroking her back. “Master Landon, if you wouldn’t mind?”

  “No problem, I’ll take over,” came the reply, and Nayla was transferred into another set of arms and given a whole new shirt to soak.

  “Hush, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Master Landon crooned, stroking the back of her head as if she were a precious, fragile pet.

  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m just so angry with him!”

  “I know. It was a bastard thing to do.” Master Landon was still stroking her hair with one hand, while the other huge palm slid down her back. Next moment, he had scooped her up, and she found herself cradled in his powerful arms. “I’ll take it from here,” he told Marshall over her head, and she squeezed her eyes shut again as they moved toward the door.

  The moment they left the office and she heard the excited chatter of other guests, it was like a switch was flipped in Nayla. She was suddenly acutely aware of her surroundings, as well as her state of undress—she never wore panties with her slave girl costume—and the way she was being carried meant anybody who passed them would be given an eyeful of not only her pink, sore backside and thighs, but also her pussy. Her tears still drying on her cheeks, she looked up at Landon and forced a smile. “You can put me down now, thanks. I feel better.”

  Ignoring her request, he strode on. “What room number are you in?”

  “Eleven-eleven. Please, put me down now. I promise you I’m fine.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re anything but.” Still cradling her close to his chest, he strode on.

  Nayla hid her flaming face in his shirt as they passed a group of people. “All right, you can come to my room and make sure I’m okay, but please, Sir, let me walk. I’m perfectly capable of walking!”

  “I don’t doubt it,” he said, “but I prefer to carry you right now.”

  “Why?” She was incredulous. Yes, he was strong, but she wasn’t exactly tiny. She had plenty of curves and surely his arms must be tiring by now.

  “Don’t question me,” he said brusquely.

  As he strode into the wing reserved for the guests enrolled in the Dungeon program, Nayla considered putting up more of a fight but, truth be told, she was exhausted. The events of the past couple of days were obviously catching up with her—not to mention the whole reason she’d come to the Castle was because she was in dire need of some R&R to counteract her stressful job. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, she let herself go limp and heavy in his arms. She wouldn’t struggle but she wouldn’t make it easy for him, either.

  Fine, let him put his back out if he wants to , she thought savagely, then let out a yelp as they rounded a corner and her foot scraped against the wall.

  “Sorry,” Landon said.

  He didn’t sound sorry at all. Hearing the voices of more guests approaching, Nayla once again buried her face in his shirt, conscious for the first time of how good he smelled: tangy, masculine aftershave with notes of Oud, soap, and a hint of fresh sweat. She could feel the heat of his skin through his starched white shirt.

  “Eleven-eleven. Here we are.” The lock clicked and they entered her room where, finally, he set her down.

  Standing in front of him, wobbling slightly on her heels, she looked up until their eyes met.

  “How did you get in here without my key?” she whispered.

  He gave her a disarming wink. “Daddy magic.”

  Shit , Landon thought as Nayla’s gorgeous green eyes grew wide. What with comforting her and carrying her, not to mention her unruly copper-blonde curls and tear-streaked face, he’d completely forgotten she was not a Little.

  He cleared his throat. “House Masters have a master key,” he said.

  She held his gaze a fraction longer, then turned away from him with a quiet, “Oh. Of course.”

  He watched her as she made her way to her purse, then fumbled around for something before digging out her phone. “I think you need a nice, hot bath,” he said.

  She was staring at the screen, her brow furrowed. “Fuck.”

  “What is it?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She sighed. “Work. Look, I very much appreciate being… escorted back to my room, and thank you for comforting me earlier, but I really am fine now. I’m fully able to run myself a bath. I’m sure you have other things to do.”

  “Actually, I don’t,” he said. “I was assigned to you for the next six days. Which means I get to spend that time with you.”

  “Surely not the whole time?”

  He shrugged. “As much time as you want. As much time as you need.”

  “What I need right now is to answer these emails,” she muttered, giving him a delicious view of her still-pink ass as she scrambled over the bed toward her suitcase.

  “You brought your laptop?” he said incredulously as she slid a brightly colored MacBook out from under some clothing.

  “I don’t go anywhere without it, or my phone,” she said, carting it back to the bed, taking off her sandals, and settling herself back against the cushions before opening the lid. “Sorry, but it’s urgent.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Accountant.”

  That threw Landon for a loop. She didn’t look like any accountant he had ever seen. Then again, he supposed that was the whole point of the Castle… and the costumes. “What kind of emergency could you possibly have that can’t wait until next week?” he said.

  Nayla let out a frustrated sigh and looked up from her computer. “I don’t mean to be rude, Sir, but I won’t be able to relax unless I’ve sorted this out. I understand we’ve been assigned to each other, and you seem like a nice guy, so I’m happy to spend some time with you later on, but right now, I’d really like you to leave.”

  Landon stared at her, unsure whether he’d heard correctly. “You’re asking me to leave?” he said.

  “Please. I don’t know, maybe we can meet up for dinner tonight.”

  There was a long, long pause, during which Landon forced himself to rein in his mounting temper. “You’re a workaholic.” It wasn’t a question.

  “No,” she said, a touch too defensively. “I just… this is important! Christ, I could have already responded to this client in the time we’ve spent arguing.”

  Clenching his fists and taking a deep breath, Landon marched into the adjoining bathroom and started to fill the tub. Once the water was pouring out of the faucet, he gripped the edge of the sink and stared at himself in the mirror.

  They had only just met.

  She was a paying guest.

  She wasn’t his submissive, nor had she ever agreed to submit to him.

  And she obviously took her job very seriously. For all he knew, she had to. For all he knew, this email was life-or-death. Then again, she wasn’t a heart surgeon. How life-or-death could anything ever be in accounting? Or via email, for that matter?

  Tread carefully , he told himself. As badly as he wanted to march back into the bedroom, yank her over his lap, and spank her until she was sobbing and promising to obey him, he had to take things slowly.

  He let his thoughts run on. This was the Castle. She wasn’t wearing a white bracelet, which meant she wasn’t a Top of any kind. This wasn’t her first visit, either, meaning she had decided to come back even knowing the rules with regards to accessing modern technology on Castle grounds. Surely she and Kurt hadn’t intended to spend their entire stay in their room—if that were the case, it would have been much cheaper for them to just book a nice hotel for a week.

  Seeing the vast bath wasn’t even a quarter full so he still had plenty of time, he went back to the bedroom.
“Why did you come here?” he said casually, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms.

  “Huh?” She was still engrossed in whatever was displayed on her laptop screen.

  “The Castle. Why come here at all when you have to work?”

  She looked up at him, the irritation plain on her pretty face. “I wasn’t meant to have to work. I came here to… play. And…” She trailed off.

  “And?”

  “To have sex.” She turned the most adorable shade of pink.

  “That’s it?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, it can be pretty good if you do it right,” she shot back.

  Landon was unimpressed. “You know what I mean.”

  “No, actually, I don’t.”

  “You could do that in pretty much any standard hotel. Without the technology restrictions.” He was gratified to see the pink on her cheeks turn a shade darker. Gotcha.

  “I like it here,” she said, a touch too defensively. “I like the atmosphere, the people, the costumes…” She stared at him as if really looking at him for the first time. “What are you meant to be, anyway?” she added, indicating his white shirt, pale gray dress slacks and polished shoes.

  “A Daddy Dom,” he said.

  “But you’re wearing a black bracelet.”

  “I am. For you. I took the Ageplay one off.”

  “Oh.” There was a pause, but her expression had softened. “I have to admit, I never understood the appeal of that. Adults running around pretending to be children. To each his own, and all that, but I can say it’s definitely not for me. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Have you ever tried it?”

  She shook her head, her coppery curls moving sexily around her bare shoulders. God, she was pretty, he found himself thinking. “Don’t knock what you haven’t tried,” he said instead. Then, injecting some sternness into his voice, “You have ten minutes to finish whatever it is you’re doing. Then you’re going to have a nice, relaxing bath. How’s your ass?”

  As if to test it, she shifted on the bed. “Fine. A bit sore, but I’ve taken more. A lot more.”

  “I’m going to inspect it before your bath, anyway.”

  Her big green eyes widened as she stared at him.

  “What?” he said, feeling the corners of his lips lift. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen it all before.” Then, more seriously, “Ten minutes, starting now.” As he headed back into the ensuite to check on the water level, he once again heard the furious clacking of keys on her laptop, and sighed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she had come to the Castle to try and have a break from what was obviously a demanding job. She just didn’t want to admit it.

  At least, not yet.

  Adding some fragrant oil to the water, he rolled up his sleeve and swished it around. The temperature was perfect.

  As he waited, he thought about the session earlier, in Marshall’s office. The way she’d tried to kick away the sting of the strap despite his iron hold on her. The breathless, sexy way she’d thanked Marshall after each stroke. Landon had been rock hard the entire time. And then the tears had started, and instead of wanting to fuck her, his protective side had come to the fore, and comforting her had become his top priority.

  It had been obvious how, the moment they’d left Marshall’s office, she’d suddenly snapped back to reality, as if the tears hadn’t even been real—even though he knew they had. This girl had serious problems with letting go; he’d realized that almost immediately. He wondered why, and whether he’d be able to make any progress on that front in the short time they had together.

  There was only one way to find out. Pushing his hair back from his forehead, Landon shut off the faucet and went to the doorway.

  Nayla was still engrossed in her laptop.

  “Ten minutes are up,” Landon said. “Turn it off, put it away, and then it’s bath time.” He held his breath, wondering whether she’d refuse him. Instead, she let out a sigh, shut the lid, clambered off the bed and shoved the MacBook back into her suitcase before moving towards him with a fluid grace.

  She had a stunning body, he mused as he watched her. Her tits were barely concealed beneath the sheer material of her slave dress, the nipples already beaded into hard points. Her waist dipped in before curving out to round hips, her full thighs tapered down to small, pretty feet.

  “Dress off,” he said, hoping she couldn’t hear the arousal in his voice.

  Nayla tugged the costume over her head, flinging it aside before shaking her curls back into place.

  “Turn around and bend over.”

  He had to suppress a groan as he got his first good look at her bare ass. Her milky skin was still pink where Marshall’s strap had done its work; the stripes on her upper thighs were a shade darker than those on her butt.

  “All right,” he said, “get into the tub.” He had to keep reminding himself that she wasn’t his girl, he had to tread carefully, and if he spent any more time examining her naked body closely, the temptation would be too much.

  She let out a hiss as her ass hit the water, and Landon didn’t conceal his grin. “Sore?”

  “A little.” She gave him a shy smile.

  Warm or hot water on a sore butt always stung at first. Landon felt his cock stir. “You’ll feel better in a minute,” he said gruffly.

  She leaned back and let out a little contented sigh. “This feels nice. The temperature is perfect.”

  You’re perfect , he found himself thinking. Where did that come from? Mentally shaking himself, he sat down on the corner of the huge bath and cleared his throat. “I think it’s time you and I had a little talk,” he said.

  Chapter 4

  N ayla wasn’t sure what she was feeling as she sat rigidly in the bath, her arms crossed defensively across her breasts, trying not to glare at the infuriatingly attractive man who was sitting casually on the corner of the tub.

  Ashamed.

  Angry.

  Frustrated.

  Aroused.

  “Did you get your email done?” Master Landon asked, arching a thick, dark eyebrow.

  “Yes,” she muttered. Then, when his eyebrow rose even higher, she added hastily, “Sir.”

  “This bath is meant to relax you.” He indicated her with a flick of his fingers. “You don’t look very relaxed. Lie back. Arms by your sides.”

  Unsure whether her face was so hot due to embarrassment, or because of the temperature of the water, she obeyed. He definitely had the Dom voice down pat.

  There was a long, awkward pause. Master Landon was the first to break it.

  “How long have you been coming here? To the Castle?”

  “Every few months for about three years,” she muttered.

  “You don’t get your… needs met at home?”

  Nayla bit her lip, resisting the urge to glare at him. “Is that a roundabout way of asking whether I’m single?”

  “No,” he said gently, “I’m just trying to get to know you better. To understand you better.”

  “Why bother? I’ll only be here for a few days, and then I’ll be going home. And you’ll be on to your next assignment. And, in answer to your question, I am single. I’m not in the habit of screwing around when I’m in a relationship.”

  “I didn’t think you were.” He examined his nails and her eyes were drawn to his hands. They were big, like the rest of him, with long, strong fingers. She’d always had a weakness for sexy hands. “As for why I’m bothering,” he added, “it’s because we’re going to spend the next week together, and I want to make sure we both enjoy ourselves. You’re no newbie. You’re aware that the more I know about you, the better.”

  “I guess,” she muttered, suddenly feeling slightly ashamed and not sure why. “Have you been here long? I don’t recall seeing you around.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a big place.” Then, “No, actually, I’m new here. Master Marshall hired me a few weeks ago, first to help with overseeing the last part of the rebuild, and then to stay
on in the Littles’ wing.”

  She noticed the slight lines at the corners of his eyes, the single threads of silver in his goatee. He had to be in his late thirties, at least, if not older. “What did you do before?”

  “I was a firefighter.” His voice had changed; there was a wistful element to it. “I had an accident. Busted my knee. Can’t do that anymore.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He looked at her then, a direct, probing gaze which made a little wisp of arousal curl through her belly like smoke. “It could have been a lot worse. It’s okay. I love it here. Besides, I get to see a lot more of Sam this way.”

  “I guess everything happens for a reason,” Nayla said, then closed her eyes, suppressing a groan as she kicked herself for spouting such an overused line.

  “I actually believe it does.” He cleared his throat and, when he next spoke, his voice was back to normal. “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-seven.”

  “And you’re still single?”

  Oh god, not this crap again . “Yes,” she said defensively, feeling her hackles rise. She opened her eyes and glared at him. “There is more to life than getting married and popping out babies.”

  He raised his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t be like that, I was only asking. I’m older than you and single, too, so it’s not like I was judging.”

  “Sorry. I just get that question a lot. I’m married to my job. I don’t have time for much else.”

  Landon shifted then, until he was facing her as squarely as he was able from his position on the tiled corner of the Jacuzzi. “Do you enjoy your work?”

  “Of course I do!” The problem was, Nayla had been asking herself that question lately. Every now and again, when she got home after another fourteen-hour day and fell into bed, alone, she wondered why it didn’t feel as satisfying as it used to.

  “That’s good,” Landon said evenly. “Most people have to do what they’re good at, or what they get offered, even if they don’t like doing it. A way to make a living. It’s rare to actually get to do something you love and get paid for it.”

  “I know. I guess we’re both lucky in that regard.” At the flicker of sadness she saw cross his gaze, she wondered briefly how much he missed being a firefighter.