Page 37 of Claimed By Daddy

Enzo sucks in a deep breath, the words slapping him in the face like they were intended to. “I do,” I answer, squeezing Enzo’s hand before he has a chance to spit a retort. “We don’t have secrets. He’s been more than honest about how he’s lived his life. I’m not a little girl, Cian… You don’t need to protect me. I know exactly what I’m doingandwho I’m doing it with.”

“Are we all kissing and making up?” Nikolai jokes, joining us from the terrace and unknowingly saving this conversation from souring again.

Cillian stands from the couch, and sucker punches Nikolai in the gut the second he steps within reach. He folds in half, struggling to suck in a breath. “That’s for knowing and fucking keeping it from me,” Cillian snarls.

“So, we’re good?” Nikolai asks sarcastically, choking on a breath and stumbling to a seat on the couch.

“Yeah. We’re good.”

“I’m not asking for your blessing,” I interject, my throat tight as I struggle to find the right words, “but I want your acceptance.”

Cillian doesn’t respond, his silence stretching out uncomfortably long. He sighs, a deep, heavy sound that carries with it a mix of frustration and concession. “It’ll take me time,” Cillian discloses honestly, his gaze focused on the two of us. “But if he proves his devotion to you, I’ll happily give you both.”

I know Enzo will give him what he wants. And all things considered, that’s probably the best I can ask for right now.

“You might be my brother…” Cillian exhales, turning his attention to Enzo. “But if you hurt her, what I did to your face will feel like a kiss on the cheek.”

“Understood, brother,” Enzo responds with a nod, a faint smile tugging at his battered and bruised lips, knowing that this strain in their relationship will heal.

ABOUT A WEEK LATER

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, my hand instinctively reaches across the sheets for Eavan. My brows furrow, finding nothing but the cool satin where she should be. Sprinkles of spring rain fall against the windows, the light patter and hazy gray sky making it the kind of morning made for staying in bed… together.

I sit up slowly, scrubbing my palm down my face in annoyance, not enjoying waking up alone.Not anymore.I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and tug on a pair of sweatpants. Noticing the nail marks running down my chest, I runmy fingers over them, reminiscing with a smile, and opt to cover them with a shirt before heading to find my princess.

The faint smell of coffee hits me halfway down the stairs. Coupled with the soft clink of mugs, I pause at the bottom step and lean against the railing long enough to watch her. Eavan stands at the counter, back to me, her hair twisted up in a messy knot, wearing one of my hoodies. Far too big, it hangs off her and barely covers her ass—leaving me wondering if she has anything on underneath it. She hums quietly while fixing a cup of coffee.It’s dangerous, how much I love her like this.

I move silently, sneaking up on her like a shadow. Snaking my arms around her waist, I quickly tighten them and pull her back snug against my chest. She lets out a breathy scream, tensing for just a second before melting into me when I press my lips to her neck. “Daddy doesn’t like it when you sneak out of bed.”

She gasps, a mixture of shock and laughter. “Enzo?—”

I kiss her again, slower this time, my lips lingering just beneath her ear. “I need you to come back upstairs,” I groan, my voice raspier than intended. “Right now.”

Her breath hitches, and I feel her smile against my cheek. She wriggles in my hold before turning around to face me.

“Someone’s needy this morning,” she teases, eyes bright.

I pretend to let her push me away, giving her a few inches of space before catching her wrist and dragging her back into me. “Have it your way, princess,” I murmur, tipping her headto the side and leaving a slew of wet kisses along her neck. “We don’t have to go upstairs first.”

Her laugh turns into a light moan as my hands slide around her hips and over the generous curve of her ass, drawing her close and firmly pressing my hardening length against her.

“For fuck’s sake,” Cillian grouses, his voice still tired and already full of irritation. With my face buried in the crook of Eavan’s neck, I laugh softly and slide my hands from her ass to her lower back. “You have a room,” Cillian groans, taking a seat on a barstool at the island. “Use it.”

“Trust me, brother,” I grumble, without turning to face him. “I’mtrying.”

“Enz!” Eavan swats me in the chest, cheeks flushed with the heat of her embarrassment. She squirms out of my hold and tries to look composed, though her lips are still tipped upward, letting me know she’s not entirely upset with my teasing. Eavan busies herself with the coffee machine as I hop onto the counter and stretch, watching her.

“I’m going to start charging you two every time I walk in onthat,” Cillian mutters, reaching for the mug Eavan is sliding across the island. “My therapy bill is already racking up.”

I shrug. “Your fault for coming in without knocking.”

“It’s thekitchen,” he snaps, trying desperately to hide his amusement and maintain a disapproving stance. “There is no doortoknock.”

I grin. “Fair.”

Eavan, mercifully, changes the subject. “I’m making muffins,” she says brightly. “Blueberry.”

Cillian gives her a suspicious look. “What’s the occasion?”

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