Page 17 of Daddy Erik
The real answer is sharp and private: Because Halvorsens build legacies. And I am choosing to build a legacy with you.
What I say is, “Because you want it, and I want this with you because I want to be with you. And I’ve never seen you look more alive than when you talk about creating something like our shared lactation kink.”
Her breath catches. Her fingers fist my shirt, pulling me in. I mean to kiss her gently, but she meets me halfway, hungry and certain.
When we finally separate, she’s flushed, her breath trembling.
“We should… head back,” I murmur.
She nods, but her hand stays in mine until she steps into the car.
CLAIRE
By the time we arrive at the bookstore, it’s been hours since lunch and my first dose of the medication. I know that it’s far too early for anything to happen. Anything measurable. Dr. Madsen explained that to me. But something feels different in my body, nonetheless.
There is a gentle tingling sensation in my chest that wasn’t there when I woke up this morning. Fullness. Maybe sensitivity? Definitely sensitivity.
It could be anticipation. It could be how Erik’s hand hasn’t left my lower back since stepping through the door. Perhaps it's the excitement of knowing exactly what we're creating together.
Whatever it is, it’s happening. And I definitely notice. Erik parks and turns toward me, his presence filling the SUV.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” I say. “No… maybe.”
His warm hand covers mine, his thumb stroking once. “You don’t have to prove anything. If you ever want to stop…”
“I won’t.” The words spill out. “This feels right with you.”
Heat and reverence flicker through his gaze. “Then I’ll keep you safe while we do this together.”
When he walks me to the door, the alley camera above the side lot blinks, too fast and too sharp.
“Looks like the camera is out again,” I murmur.
“I’ll fix it tonight.” His tone shifts, danger coiling behind calm.
“Top bolt, little one.”
“Yes, Sir,” slips out unbidden.
He tilts my chin, reading me effortlessly. A soft kiss to my forehead seals the promise.
“Dinner at seven. I’ll pick you up at closing time. Text me if anything feels off.” I nod, lean in, and give him a peck on his gorgeous lips before I slip in and lock the top bolt. He jogs over to his car and takes off a few minutes later, as he always does.
Inside, I boot up the register. A system notification flashes:Administrator X is responsible for scheduled system reboots.
We don’t have an Administrator X. A cold ripple crawls up my spine.
I text him fast:
My computer system just rebooted itself, stating that Administrator X is in charge, and I don’t have anything like that set up. What do I do?
His response is instant:
I’ll have Axel look into it. Keep the shop locked up until opening and closing. If there is anything else out of sorts, call me immediately.
ERIK
