Page 27 of Protected By Her Daddy

“Yeah,” I breathe, standing quickly.

He’s right there, helping me into my coat. The chill nips at my cheeks outside the restaurant, and I’m grateful for its warmth.

Gabriel helps me into the car, his hand steady on my back. I slide into the seat, hyper-aware of every point where his fingers lingered. The door shuts with a soft thud, encasing us in the quiet luxury of Ed’s driving.

“Thank you for dinner,” I say, trying to find normalcy in the whirlpool of my mind.

“Did you enjoy it?” Gabriel asks, the corner of his mouth quirking.

“Very much so,” I reply, though part of me, a very big part, wants to add, But it wasn’t the only thing I wanted to taste tonight.

The car glides through the streets, and the city lights streak past us like falling stars. All I can think about is the distance closing between us and whether the night will end with a kiss or a spank.

We take the elevator up from the underground parking lot, and the doors slide open to Gabriel’s penthouse, an expanse of dark wood, marble floors, and soft lighting that still takes my breath away.

He helps me off with my coat, his fingers brushing my bare shoulders and sending a shiver down my spine. I’m hyper-aware of his proximity, of how much I’ve come to crave these small touches.

“You were very good over dinner,” he says, hanging up my coat. His voice is low, almost a purr that vibrates through me.

I tilt my head, feigning innocence, but my voice holds a boldness I never knew I possessed. “How good?”

“Good enough that you won’t be getting that spanking for fidgeting,” he replies, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

My cheeks heat in relief and something that might be disappointment. I flash him a smile, feeling daring as I turn my back to him.

“Can you unzip me?” My voice comes out breathier than intended.

There’s a pause, a heartbeat or two when everything hangs suspended in time. Then his hands land on my shoulders, warm and steady.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, little bird,” he murmurs, an edge to his voice that sends a thrill right through me.

A sigh escapes me as his lips brush my ear. I lean back into him ever so slightly. “I think I do, Daddy.” The words are barely a whisper, a tentative step into this new realm between us.

His hands clench on my shoulders. Not moving to the zipper. Not pulling away. Simply holding me like I’m precious. And at that moment, surrounded by the luxury he’s brought me into, all I can focus on is the man behind me and the palpable tension wrapped around us like a satin ribbon.

“Gabriel.” His name is a plea, an admission of desire. I wait, my heart pounding, wondering if he’ll cross that line we’ve been toeing for weeks.

His hands move, his fingers trailing down my arms and landing on my waist, sending tiny electric shocks across my skin. It’s like he knows exactly how to make me quiver without even trying.

“I don’t think you’re ready for this, Wren. You’re young. You need someone… your own age.” His voice is a low rasp laced with restraint.

Is he testing me? Making sure this is what I want?

I exhale raggedly, turning my head to look up at him from beneath my eyelashes. “What I feel for you has nothing to do with age.” I’m so far out of my depth here. I’ve never even kissed a man. “I’ve finally found somewhere that I fit. With you. I want this new beginning with you, Gabe. I don’t want to face the shadows alone anymore. I just want?—”

My words die as his hands slide higher, brushing the sides of my breasts in a way that’s anything but accidental. My breath hitches, and I’m suddenly painfully aware of how close we are, of how easy it would be for him to make me his.

He leans in, grazing his teeth over a sensitive spot on my neck. “I know what you want because it’s what I want. What I’ve wanted from the moment I saw you. I want you to be my little girl.”

Chapter 9

Gabriel

Wren turns within the circle of my arms. The desire in her eyes is like a promise. “I’ll be your little girl. I’ll be your everything if you’ll let me.”

I cup her cheek with one hand while the other cradles the back of her head, tilting it gently so I can search her eyes.“Do you even know what it means?” I ask, my voice steady. My heart? Not so much.

She purses her plump lips thoughtfully. “I think I’ve got the measure of it. You want to dress me up in diapers and a romper suit. Feed me formula milk, throw me over your shoulder, and burp me. Am I right?”

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