You can’t help perking up when you hear his footsteps echoing in the hall outside of the study. A little thrill races through you, like it always does when he comes home from… work. You assume it’s work.You don’t know what he does for a living and, honestly, the first time he came home after a “business trip”, expensive and personally tailored suit spattered in blood, you decided not to ask.
With the sound drawing closer, you dog ear the corner of your page, putting your book aside to stand and smooth out your dressing gown. That’s when you hear his voice, lilting through the air, “Looove, where are you? Daddy’s home…”
You slip over to the door, passing just over the threshold and out onto the polished wooden floor of the hall and there you see him, in navy pinstripe and heavily shined shoes, sunglasses hanging at the topmost button of the white button-down underneath his jacket. His lips split into a grin when he sees you, and he speeds up to close the distance, pulling you in against him when he can get his hands on your hips. His lips touch yours in the same moment that he presses you back against the door jamb, swallowing up the surprised and pleased little sound that bubbles up out of you as he licks into your mouth, hips pressing into yours so that you spread your thighs a little despite all the clothing in between you.
When your head’s all fuzzy and you feel like you might just melt right into the floor, he lets up, forehead resting against yours. “I brought you a present, baby,” he says.
Your cheeks color up crimson, “Louis… you didn’t have to.”
Now he does lean away, hands slipping your sides to cup your neck and then work their way up into your hair. His eyes, so very blue and always glittering mischief, are locked on yours as his mouth curves into a little smirk. “Of course, I didn’t have to, but you know how much I love spoiling my girl, don’t you?”
And spoil you he does, with expensive dinners and clothing, jewelry and the finest items to decorate your sprawling two-story home with. In the driveway a car sits that could have easily paid for another house, “DDYSGRL” on the license plate and you remember when he drove it home that hot summer day. He’d been a vision in that loose white polo and khaki highwaters, feet in sandals that still smell of fresh leather even now and he’d practically pulled you down the front stairs in your skimpy satin nightgown to show you the vehicle, all sleek lines and dark violet metalflake. When you’d asked him, he’d wiggled a finger at you, murmuring, “Ah-ah,” and there in the front circle drive, behind the massive gates, to the sound of birds calling and the whistle of wind in the trees, he’d knelt on the warm asphalt and pushed your thighs apart. And, after slipping your nightgown up around your hips and getting you to hold it, he’d cleaned you out with his mouth like a man starving, devouring every last, sweet drop gathered at the center of you while you leaned against the car, shaking and mewling his name.
"Don’t you, baby?" his voice, a little sterner, pulls you out of the memory.
Licking your lips with a tongue suddenly run dry - though you’re decidedly wet between the thighs now - your gaze flicks back to his and you give a little nod. Your voice comes out barely a breath, “Yes, Daddy, I know.”
The grin is back and he kisses you with it, hard on the mouth, one hand finding your hip again, while the other takes a trip further south, pushing up your dressing gown to rub at you through your panties. You let out a little startled sound into his mouth that he swallows up and chuckles back into yours, only leaning away to murmur, “See, I know what my girl likes.”
You’re still pressed against the jamb, head leaned back against it while his fingers find the hard nub of your clit through the soft cotton covering and to the sound of your gasping, he draws the other hand away to fiddle around in his suit jacket, finally producing a long velvet box. So many pleasurable little jolts are running through you that you moan a little with disappointment when he takes the hand playing with you away as well, stepping back to present you with the box with a smirk and a raised brow.
You know your face is flushed a lurid shade of red still, chest heaving to catch your breath. As if it might strike you like a snake, you eye the box and finally take it. Louis lets you pop it open yourself, and inside you find the most beautiful diamond bracelet you’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s sterling silver with little round diamonds all the way through and it glitters in the lights shining down from the domed ceiling overhead, while your breath hitches in your throat.
"Louis, this is… oh wow," you breathe.
His smirk only grows and now he gently takes the box from your slightly trembling hands, carefully removing the precious jewelry inside. Before you can hide your hands, he steals one, pulling it towards him so that he can wrap the delicate piece around your wrist. It’s cool and only faintly heavy against your skin, a tad loose to allow for movement. It slides along the sensitive hairs at the end of your arm in a way that has goosebumps raising on it, and the heat between your legs only worsens in response to the sensation.
"Do you like it?" Louis murmurs, the smirk gone, replaced with a gentle look you’ve only ever seen him give you, his mother and sisters.
"It’s beautiful."
He chuckles very quietly, and after sliding the box back into his pocket, he presses forward again, cupping your face to kiss you tenderly just once. Then his lips are touching the lobe of your ear while he whispers.
"Good, because Daddy’s going to have a shower now and that’s all he wants to see you wearing when he gets out.
