Daddy |18+

Isabella: Morning

The soft tendrils of sleep began to loosen their grip on my consciousness as the comforting aroma of something delicious wafted into my bedroom.

It was a warm, inviting scent, coaxing me out of the embrace of slumber with promises of sustenance and comfort. With a contented sigh, I stretched, feeling the stiffness of the previous day's tension dissipate as I blinked away the remnants of sleep.

Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, I noted that it was 8 am, earlier than my usual wake-up time, since I usually wake up like in midday because I love sleeping.

Curiosity piqued, I threw back the covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool floor beneath my feet. My gaze fell on the outfit laid out neatly on the bed—a simple yet stylish ensemble that Lorenzo must have chosen for me. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes of his care and attention to detail.

Quickly slipping into the clothes he had selected, I smoothed down the fabric, relishing the feeling of being clothed in something chosen with me in mind. With a sense of anticipation, I made my way out of the bedroom and into the main living area of our mansion.

There, in the kitchen, Lorenzo stood over the stove, his back to me as he tended to whatever culinary masterpiece he was concocting. The morning light streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow around him, and for a moment, I couldn't help but marvel at the domestic scene before me—the man I loved, cooking breakfast with a skill and care that belied his tough exterior.

"What's for breakfast?" I called out, my voice tinged with excitement as I took a seat at the table, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at my lips.

Lorenzo turned, a grin spreading across his face as he caught sight of me. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he greeted, his tone light and teasing. "I thought I'd whip up some pancakes, if that's okay with you."

"Pancakes sound perfect," I replied, my stomach rumbling in agreement. I watched with unabashed admiration as Lorenzo deftly flipped the pancakes in the skillet, the sizzle of the batter hitting the hot surface filling the air with a tantalizing aroma.

As he plated up the pancakes and set them down in front of me, I couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude for the man sitting across from me.

"Mmmm," a soft moan escaped from my lips as I savored the first bite of the fluffy pancakes, their warm sweetness melting on my tongue. "These are very good," I murmured between bites, unable to hide my delight.

Lorenzo's smirk widened at my reaction, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Keep moaning, darling, and I might be late to work today," he teased, his voice low and suggestive.

I chuckled, a playful twinkle dancing in my eyes.

"I make no promises," I replied, meeting his gaze with a knowing smirk of my own. It was no secret that Lorenzo had a particular fondness for the sounds I made, especially in moments of pleasure.

I had always known he was obsessed with my sounds, particularly my moaning, but I couldn't help but indulge him. There was something undeniably intoxicating about the way he responded to me, the way he reveled in the pleasure we shared, as if each moan was a symphony composed just for him.

As we continued to enjoy our breakfast together, the morning sunlight casting a warm glow around us, I couldn't shake the feeling of contentment that settled over me. In this moment, surrounded by the comforting familiarity of our shared space and the tantalizing aroma of pancakes filling the air, I felt a sense of peace that was rare in our tumultuous world.

"Do you need anything before I go, darling?" Lorenzo's voice broke through the tranquil moment as he rose from his seat, carrying his empty plate to the sink. With practiced ease, he washed the dish before reaching for his shirt and suit, preparing for the day ahead.

I considered his question for a moment, grateful for his thoughtfulness even in the midst of his own busy schedule. "May I go out with my friends? We want to go to the pool party," I asked tentatively, knowing his reaction could go either way.

Lorenzo turned to me swiftly, a flicker of disapproval crossing his features at the mention of the party. "You can go, if...no boys, keep me updated, tell me when you need to be picked up, and no smoking or drinking alcohol," he stated firmly, his voice leaving no room for negotiation.

I nodded in understanding, though my smile faded, when he said "words baby, use your words."

"Yes, daddy, I understand," I replied.

Lorenzo's lips twitched into a smirk at my response, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, his touch a reassuring anchor amidst the uncertainty of the day ahead. "Be safe, mi amor," he murmured, before straightening up and heading towards the door.
(My love)

As I watched him go, a mixture of emotions swirled within me—gratitude for his protection, frustration at the limitations imposed, and a lingering sense of anticipation for the day ahead.