Page 47 of Small Town Daddy

"Lucy," he murmured against me, the sound vibrating through my core. It was more than a name; it was an anchor, a lifeline pulling me back when the intensity threatened to sweep me away.

"Don't stop," I pleaded, lost to the rhythm he set, the world narrowing to the heat pooling low in my belly and the intoxicating pull of his attention.

"Never," he promised, his dedication unfaltering. In his care, my doubts began to unravel, replaced by a certainty that had been elusive until now.

I could feel the tension coiling tighter, a crescendo building within me. Marcus sensed it too, his touch unwavering, guiding me toward the edge with a patience that spoke volumes.

"Let go," he urged softly, a coaxing whisper that broke through the haze.

And I did. I surrendered to him, to us, to the trust that had taken root amidst the vulnerability. It was a release unlike any other, profound in its simplicity, powerful in its truth.

As I lay there, spent and trembling, Marcus held me close, his presence a balm to the storm he'd stirred within me. In the aftermath, I realized something had shifted—a newfound confidence nestled beside the remnants of doubt. This was our beginning, and I was ready to embrace whatever came next.

Chapter 13

Marcus

Trust. I couldn’t rememberany other trust exercise like the one we engaged in last night. I’d never forget it.

How responsive she was. How naturally submissive. But the sexiest thing, the most powerful thing, was the way she gave herself to me. With trust. With passion. She was everything I’d ever dreamed of in a woman.

We’d navigated sensory deprivation exercises—her idea—and the experience had stripped away layers between us. She let herself be vulnerable, and I felt honored to guide her through it. That kind of raw connection was rare, more potent than anything I’d felt in a long time.

I woke up to Lucy's gentle breathing beside me. Her auburn hair spread out on the pillow, and her face was peaceful. Seeing her like that filled me with something I hadn't felt in a long time—contentment.

Last night, we’d stopped short of making love. Even though something was brewing between us, I still wanted to take my time, make sure that Lucy didn’t feel rushed or pressured.

Careful not to wake her, I brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. She stirred slightly but didn't wake up. I decided to let her sleep a bit longer. Slipping out of bed, I headed for the kitchen.

She’d made me some delicious pancakes the other day, so I wanted to return the favor. Scrambled eggs, coffee, fruit. It sounded good.

It didn’t take long for her to emerge from my room, wearing one of my shirts, her hair tousled. "Something smells good," she said, flashing me a warm smile.

"Yeah, I guess I do smell pretty good,” I I joked. “Hope you're hungry." I pulled a chair out for her.

"These eggs are perfect," Lucy said between bites.

"I’m a man of many talents," I joked, earning a soft laugh from her.

"You certainly are,” she shot back with a grin. “You showed me a few extra ones last night.” She gave me a dirty look. “You made me come so hard I thought I was going to explode.” My throat went dry.

“Is that right?”

“Mmmhmm,” she said.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t actually explode.”

“Me too. Plus, there’s always next time for that.”

Lucy took a sip of her coffee, her eyes meeting mine with that familiar spark. "So, what's the plan for today?" she asked, her voice light and curious.

"Thought we could tackle your dad's glass house," I replied, cutting into my toast. "It's a big project, but with both of us, we'll make good progress."

She nodded, a smile lighting up her face. "I'm in. Besides, it needs to be done, right?"

"Definitely. We'll gather up what we need after we eat," I said, taking another bite, savoring the easy morning rhythm between us.

"Thanks, Marcus," she added, sincerity clear in her tone.