Daddy of the Mountain: An age play, snowed in, grumpy-sunshine romance. by Lucky Moon

Author:Lucky Moon [Moon, Lucky]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2025-01-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

"Alright," he said, voice rough. "Guess we need to talk."

"Yeah," I replied quietly. My fingers gripped the edge of the blanket, twisting it just enough to keep my hands busy. I didn’t trust them not to fidget otherwise. “We do.”

The air between us felt heavier than before, charged with something I couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was the way he didn’t look at me right away, or how his jaw tightened every few seconds, like the words were fighting him. I waited, giving him space, though my pulse thudded faster with each passing moment. Whatever he was about to say, I knew it would matter.

He cleared his throat once, then again. His gaze finally lifted to meet mine, and something raw glinted there—sharp, unpolished, and strangely vulnerable. “So, this Daddy Dom thing, it’s about roles, alright? Dynamics.”

"Roles?" I echoed, tilting my head.

"Yeah." He let the word hang for a second, then barreled forward. “One person—me, in this case—takes on a role that’s sorta . . . guiding. Protective. Like a caregiver. That’s where the ‘Daddy’ part comes in. But it ain’t literal. I’m nobody’s father. It’s just . . . a state of mind.”

I blinked, trying to process.

“The other side,” he continued, his tone deliberate now, “is someone who takes on a more carefree role. They lean into trust, vulnerability—lettin’ go of responsibilities for a bit. We call that ‘being little.’ Sometimes people shorten it to DDlg. Stands for Daddy Dom Little Girl. Although everyone involved is an adult, of course.”

My eyebrows knit together. “So . . . like pretending to be a kid?”

"Not exactly." His voice firmed, the words coming quicker now, like he wanted to make sure I understood. “It’s not about playin’ house or actin’ like a child. It’s about feelin’ safe enough to let go. To lean on someone. Doesn’t mean you’re weak or anything—it’s just . . . different.”

He paused, letting that sink in. I thought about it, fingers still twisting the fabric of the blanket. The idea felt strange. Foreign, yet oddly . . . familiar? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that his explanation hadn’t scared me off—not yet, anyway.

“Some people do tap into a child-like feeling. An innocence. Letting go of the adult world. Being free to be themselves.”

It sounded nice. Stress-free.

I shifted on the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around my lap. The lamplight flickered over Silas’s face, catching on the sharp angles of his jaw and the crease between his brows.

“And is it like . . . a sexual thing?” I asked softly, breaking the heavy quiet that hung between us.

“Not always. Sometimes, yeah. But not all the time.” He leaned back slightly, his fingers rubbing at the calloused skin of his palm. “It’s more about connection—emotional intimacy. Comfort. Trust. A physical relationship can grow out of that.”

I nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. They didn’t scare me, not exactly. They felt . . . different. Unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

"So . . ." I hesitated, chewing on my bottom lip.

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