Page 7 of 4ever Daddy

“Yes, Daddy.” I offer a serene smile.

He growls, brushing his mouth across mine. “You’re too damn good for me.”

“But you’ll keep me?”

“You know I will.” His tongue licks at me. “You’re mine now.”

“I like the sound of that.” Sighing as I sink into him, his hands move up and down my body, setting a fire in my veins that incites more. “Dinner is ready if you’d like to change. I’ve set us up to eat on the deck.”

With another sensual kiss, he heads upstairs while I dish out our plates, pop the lid off a cold beer for him, and pour some peach lemonade for myself.

I pull out the brownie pan so it can cool down while we eat, and I place the ice cream container in the fridge to soften without melting.

“Dessert, too?” Coltrain says as he re-enters the main floor.

My eyes eat him up in his tight-fitting blue cotton shirt and light grey sweatpants. Casual loafers on his feet pull it together, giving him this sexy, relaxed vibe that I find just as attractive as when he wears his suit.

“I thought you might like a sweet treat,” I reply as a hand moves across my belly and down towards my pelvis.

“I have one right here,” he whispers in my ear as his hand cups my bare pussy, a finger circling the hole and weakening my knees.

“Oh my. Does that mean, this”—I turn and cup his stiffening erection—“is my dessert?”

“It can be.” His hooded eyes are filled with lust and need, and it’s startling to realize he has those feelings because of me.

“You’re fantastic for a girl’s confidence.” The more time I spend with him, the better I feel about myself and my decision to break free from my family.

“As long as that girl is you, then I’m happy.”

My cheeks warm as I grab our plates, and he follows me out to the table.

“This is great, Gabs. Thank you.”

That fills me with a sense of pride.

“I’m not great at a lot of things, but cooking, baking, and gardening are some of my favorite things to do.”

“What else do you enjoy?” Surprised by his question, I stop to think as he takes a bite of the lemon pepper salmon. “This is delicious.”

Accepting his praise, I take a taste before answering, “The beach. I could sit in the sand all day and never tire.”

“Do you surf?” He seems to perk up at the thought.

I shake my head. “I never had anyone to teach me, plus my parents kept me extremely busy as a child. I love the water, but I’m a little afraid to even swim in it.” Watching as he drinks his beer, my eyes are glued to his throat as his Adam's apple bobs up and down while he swallows. “Do you?”

“I picked it up after I quit commercial fishing. The adrenaline helped settle me into a safer lifestyle.”

“Do you regret quitting?” Matilda has told me why he did, and I don’t blame him one bit. In fact, I respect him for it.

“Not for a second. Matilda was the best thing to ever happen to me, and I love her more than anything. Being alive to watch her grow up was more important than working on the water.”

We spend the next hour eating dinner, talking about our pasts—mostly his because it’s far more exciting than mine. My heart still races at learning about the trip that nearly ended his life. The thought that this man could have been taken from this world far too soon is terrifying.

As I plate dessert, drizzling chocolate syrup over the ice cream and brownie, I only bring out one bowl for us to share as I sit in his lap, where he has moved to one of the lounge chairs.

I face him and spread my legs on either side of his hips. Feeding this man brings me a pleasure I hadn’t anticipated feeling. I enjoy taking care of him, and I think I’m starting to understand why he wants control so much. There’s a fulfillment in caring for someone you love and cherish.

Placing the empty plate on the side table, I scoot down his legs and reach for the waistband of his sweats.

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