Page 28 of Meow

"Beautiful," he murmurs, lips trailing fire across my collarbone.

I arch up, clawing at his back through his shirt. "Don't make me wait."

He chuckles against my skin. "Impatient kitty."

My nails dig deeper. "I bite when teased."

"Promise?" His eyes meet mine, dark with desire.

I demonstrate by sinking my teeth into his shoulder, hard enough to make him hiss, then lick the spot soothingly. "Mine," I whisper.

Something primal flashes in his gaze. "Mine," he echoes, tugging my pants down my hips in one rough motion.

The confined space makes everything more intense—every touch, every breath. When he finally pushes inside me, the world narrows to just us—predator and prey, though I'm not sure which is which anymore.

"Duffield," I gasp as he fills me completely.

"Say it again," he demands, hips driving forward. "My name on your lips."

"Duffield," I repeat, wrapping my legs around him. "My Big Dog. My Daddy."

He moves with controlled power, each thrust claiming me more thoroughly than the last. I meet him stroke for stroke, refusing to surrender completely despite the pleasure threatening to overwhelm me.

When release finally crashes through me, I bite him again, marking him as he's marked me. He follows moments later, my name a prayer on his lips.

After, still tangled together in the reclined seat, he presses his forehead to mine. "Marry me."

"What?"

"It’s not a question."

I blink, processing his words. "That's...that's a lot. Big dog step there, Daddy, you sure?"

"I don't do small steps." His thumb traces my lower lip. "I want you with me. Always."

"We barely know each other."

"I know everything that matters." His gaze holds mine, unflinching. "You're brave, fierce, loyal. You fight for what you love. You challenge me. No one except you challenges me, except perhaps my sister."

“Sister?”

“You’ll see, little kitty.”

I laugh softly. "Well, everyone needs someone to keep them in line."

"So, you ready to be Mrs. Duffield Murphy?” He smiles. “Thatisa question. It’s happening, but I do want to know if you are ready.”

I study him—this impossible man who threatens dumpster divers one minute and proposes marriage the next. "On one condition."

"Name it."

"No more cameras without my permission. And I go where I want, when I want."

He hesitates, clearly battling his protective instincts. "I need to know you're safe."

"Text me. Call me. But trust me."

Trust. The word hangs between us, weighted with meaning.

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