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Teasing Daddy: A Sweetly Sinful DDLG Age Gap Romance: A steamy Daddy Dom, Little Girl love story with spanking, bratting, obedience, and an irresistible ... Daddy.
The bell over the café door jingled sharply as she slipped inside, the summer heat clinging to her bare legs and the hem of her dangerously short skirt. She barely noticed it — or the few heads that turned as she passed — because she'd long since stopped pretending she didn’t enjoy the attention.
Tiny pink tank top, denim mini so short it should’ve come with a warning label, sneakers laced loose around her ankles. Her hair was messy on purpose, lips glossed up and glossy as she sucked on her iced coffee straw, scrolling through her phone with one perfectly manicured finger.
She didn’t mean to be trouble.
Most days.
Today… maybe a little.
She didn’t notice him at first — the man sitting near the window, dark jeans, a black T-shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders. He wasn’t looking at her the way the others were. No, his gaze was steady. Calm. Almost… assessing.
She smirked and flipped her hair over her shoulder, tossing a wink at the poor college boys behind the counter, making them stammer over her order. Then, swinging her hips just a little more than necessary, she strutted toward the seating area.
That’s when he spoke.
Low. Quiet. Smooth like whiskey and thunder.
"Does your father know you’re walking around looking like that?"
She froze mid-step.
Heat shot to her cheeks as she whipped her head toward him, pulse jumping. It wasn’t just the words — it was the way he said them. Not like he was teasing. Not even like he was joking. No — it sounded more like a warning.
She opened her mouth, ready with a sharp retort — but the second their eyes locked, the words tangled up somewhere between her brain and her tongue.
God, he was dangerous.
Not in the usual way — not like the frat boys who barked and flexed. No. This man sat still, one hand cradling a black coffee, eyes lazy and patient like a wolf that had already decided whether to eat you.
He wasn’t young — thirty-five, maybe older — with a square jaw peppered with dark stubble and a mouth that looked like it could be cruel or kind depending entirely on his mood.
His gaze dropped, slow and deliberate, over the line of her bare thighs, the dip of her waist, the pink fabric stretched tight across her chest — then back up to her face. His eyebrow lifted.
Waiting.
Daring her to answer.
Her heart thudded so loud she almost missed her own smirk as it slid across her lips.
"Maybe he bought the outfit for me," she said, voice syrupy sweet.
For a split second, something flickered across his face — something hot and dangerous — before he masked it with a small, amused snort. He took a sip of his coffee without breaking eye contact.
"Then he deserves a stern talking-to," he murmured, voice low and amused.
A beat.
"Or maybe..."
His eyes darkened just slightly, voice softening into something far more dangerous.
"Maybe you need someone else to keep an eye on you."
Something low and needy curled in her belly, twisting tight.
She didn’t do authority. Didn’t like being told what to do. Had built her whole life on being free, wild, untamable.
Tiny pink tank top, denim mini so short it should’ve come with a warning label, sneakers laced loose around her ankles. Her hair was messy on purpose, lips glossed up and glossy as she sucked on her iced coffee straw, scrolling through her phone with one perfectly manicured finger.
She didn’t mean to be trouble.
Most days.
Today… maybe a little.
She didn’t notice him at first — the man sitting near the window, dark jeans, a black T-shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders. He wasn’t looking at her the way the others were. No, his gaze was steady. Calm. Almost… assessing.
She smirked and flipped her hair over her shoulder, tossing a wink at the poor college boys behind the counter, making them stammer over her order. Then, swinging her hips just a little more than necessary, she strutted toward the seating area.
That’s when he spoke.
Low. Quiet. Smooth like whiskey and thunder.
"Does your father know you’re walking around looking like that?"
She froze mid-step.
Heat shot to her cheeks as she whipped her head toward him, pulse jumping. It wasn’t just the words — it was the way he said them. Not like he was teasing. Not even like he was joking. No — it sounded more like a warning.
She opened her mouth, ready with a sharp retort — but the second their eyes locked, the words tangled up somewhere between her brain and her tongue.
God, he was dangerous.
Not in the usual way — not like the frat boys who barked and flexed. No. This man sat still, one hand cradling a black coffee, eyes lazy and patient like a wolf that had already decided whether to eat you.
He wasn’t young — thirty-five, maybe older — with a square jaw peppered with dark stubble and a mouth that looked like it could be cruel or kind depending entirely on his mood.
His gaze dropped, slow and deliberate, over the line of her bare thighs, the dip of her waist, the pink fabric stretched tight across her chest — then back up to her face. His eyebrow lifted.
Waiting.
Daring her to answer.
Her heart thudded so loud she almost missed her own smirk as it slid across her lips.
"Maybe he bought the outfit for me," she said, voice syrupy sweet.
For a split second, something flickered across his face — something hot and dangerous — before he masked it with a small, amused snort. He took a sip of his coffee without breaking eye contact.
"Then he deserves a stern talking-to," he murmured, voice low and amused.
A beat.
"Or maybe..."
His eyes darkened just slightly, voice softening into something far more dangerous.
"Maybe you need someone else to keep an eye on you."
Something low and needy curled in her belly, twisting tight.
She didn’t do authority. Didn’t like being told what to do. Had built her whole life on being free, wild, untamable.
106 pages, Kindle Edition
Published April 27, 2025
15 people are currently reading
5 people want to read
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