Page 22 of Daddy's Heart

He nods silently, and I know he wishes it was different. So do I. But I can’t change the past.

“I’m sorry.” I wish I knew what else I could say to make it right. “Do you hate me?”

“What? No, baby. How could I ever?” He continues stroking my hair, and it feels so good I never want it to end. “When was the last time you had sex?”

“Um... Prom night? The only time, not just the last time. I knew it was a mistake before it was over, but it was too late to stop it.”

“If I’d been there, I would have stopped it.”

I smile. “I know you would have, Daddy. And I would have thanked you for it.” I breathe in his scent, all masculine and sweat-soaked, the flavor mixing with the lingering taste of his cum. “And you? When was the last time you had sex?”

“I’m not a monk,” he says, “I’ve had my moments. But not for five years, not since… Something bad happened, and I lost myself. The idea of chasing women never much appealed to me in the first place, and after that it soured that part of me.”

“What happened?”

He sighs. “Another time, baby. That story is for another time.”

“Do you want to keep going?”

“Are you kidding me? I want to fuck you right through that wall.” I giggle as he presses his lips to my head. “But tonight, I want…”

I turn my head up to meet his eyes as he hesitates, and I can’t believe this big, strong, wonderful man actually wants little crazy me in his life. “You want me to suck your dick again, Daddy?”

He chuckles. “Yes, but for right now can I just sleep with you next to me? Wrapped in my arms? I’ve never done that, just slept with a woman all night, held her and woken with her beside me.”

“Me neither,” I whisper, my heart fluttering. “A man, I mean. I’ve never slept in a bed with a man.”

“Then that’s settled.” He puts his lips to my head again, then steps away. “I’ll fetch oat milk and cookies. You settle yourself in bed.”

Eight

Emery

Iwake up wrapped in warmth and the scent of pine and man.

For a moment, I don't remember where I am. Then Colt's arm tightens around me, pulling me closer against his chest, and everything comes flooding back. The storm. His mouth on me. The way he made me fall apart while staying completely in control.

The way he called himself Daddy and made it sound like a promise.

I should be embarrassed. Instead, I feel claimed. Cherished. Like I've been marked in some fundamental way that has nothing to do with the physical and everything to do with the way he looked at me.

Like I belonged to him.

"Morning, baby girl."

His voice is rough with sleep, rumbling through his chest where my cheek is pressed. I tilt my head up to look at him,and those pale blue eyes are already focused on me with laser intensity.

"Hi," I whisper.

"Sleep okay?"

"Better than I have in months." Usually I wake up three or four times a night, but wrapped in Colt's arms, I slept like the dead.

"Good girl." He presses a kiss to the top of my head, his hand spanning my back. “You sore?”

A massive hand caresses down my side, ending up between my legs with a soft pat.

“Yes. Like a reminder, but not enough to need medical care.”

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