Yes, Daddy | A Formula 1 Fan Fiction | Toto Wolff

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M O N T E C A R L O
T O T O

A/N: A little smutty filler chapter. Thank you so much for 1.4k reads!

I had already been up for an hour, maybe two, but despite the small amount of sleep I got, I felt well-rested. Exhilarated. Alex was curled up against me, head resting on my chest, legs tangled up in mine. The slow rise and fall of her chest paired with the feel of her warm breath fanning against my skin told me that she was still deep in sleep.

Something I had noticed in the time we've been together was how much she slept. When she finally got there, of course. Getting her to stop working and rest was always a challenge, and that's coming from a workaholic. There was no in-between for her; she either ran on days with no sleep, or she could sleep a whole day away.

There was a sort of mad frenzy in her eyes when she was caught up in her work but on the days; she looked like someone who was sprinting from a fast-burning flame, panicked that she couldn't keep her lead from it as it consumed everything in its path. And yet on the days where all she could do was sleep, her eyes took on an almost haunted expression, like her inner flame had been doused and her spark had ceased to exist. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe something far deeper; it was as though sleep itself or just being unconscious was her way of running away, the only way she could shut off the mind. Perhaps extinguishing the flame from the former came at the cost of her inner spark.

I don't think I'd ever met anyone like Alex, someone who had such a strong work ethic but at the ultimate cost of herself. Even exhausted, you could see the burning intelligence within her, the determination to make things right, to ensure that her voice was heard, to proclaim her independence and her strong will. Yet on nights where she allowed that control to fall, for her mask to slip, well, I yearned to reach out and just hold that young woman in my arms, to whisper in her ear that she didn't always have to be strong, that her mind isn't telling her the right things, that it's ok to just take a break sometimes.

Slowly, so very slowly, she had let me in, had allowed me to hold her hand, to support her. She'd given me her trust, her most vulnerable side, and yet she doesn't realise that she was doing more for me than I could ever hope to do for her.

Deep down, all I've ever wanted was to love, care, nurture, and protect. I had that opportunity with my older children, but my career choices pulled me further and further away from my true desires. The opportunity had come again but that really hasn't worked out, has it? The team was my only constant and I did dive head-first into its success, but that's work. I want something meaningful in my personal life.

There was something about her that makes me just want to nurture and love. It's clear that she doesn't want someone there to protect her, but I want to be one standing in her corner, supporting her. I want to do everything in my power to make sure she succeeds and gets everything she ever wanted. And I can only hope that maybe, she would have me as part of her life.

She stirred against me, moving her gorgeous body against mine. Her face was turned up to mine, letting me examine her. She looked downright angelic, her full lips sat apart just slightly, her cheeks held a light flush as though our activities last night replayed in her mind. As if in response, she whimpered softly and rolled onto her back, her legs untangling from mine. The light sheet framed her figure perfectly, skimming over her pert breasts, the slight swell of her belly, the taut shape of her legs framing my breakfast.

I grinned down at her, feeling my own arousal trickle down my body, and slid my way under the sheets, slowly making my way between her legs. Her thighs parted without too much resistance, presenting me with the most mouth-watering sight. The slightly darkened skin on her thighs seemed to lead me to her neatly trimmed mound that gave way to the hood that hid my reward.