Page 25 of Daddy's Heart

My breath catches. "Is that what you think? That I'm meant to be yours?"

"I don't think it, baby girl. I know it."

Before I can respond, he's kissing me again, slow and deep and claiming. When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.

"I need to call Logan back," I say weakly.

"No."

"Colt—"

"He can wait." His mouth moves to my neck, finding that sensitive spot that makes me gasp. "Right now you're exactly where you need to be. Where Daddy wants you."

His hands slide under the flannel shirt, fingers tracing up my thighs, and I forget how to breathe.

"Spread your legs for me, baby girl."

I do, and he groans when he finds me already wet for him.

"Christ, look at you. So ready for Daddy." His fingers slide through my slickness, circling my clit with just enough pressure to make me whimper. "I'm going to make you come again. Right here on my couch, wearing nothing but my shirt."

"Colt, please—"

"Please what?" He slides one thick finger inside me, and my back arches off the couch. "Tell Daddy what you need."

"More," I gasp. "Please, more."

He adds another finger, stretching me, his thumb working my clit in slow circles that have me panting his name.

"That's it, baby girl. Let me hear you. Let me know how good Daddy makes you feel."

I'm already close, wound tight from his touch and the way he's looking at me like I'm everything he's ever wanted.

"Come for me," he growls, curling his fingers inside me. "Come all over Daddy's hand."

I shatter, crying out his name as pleasure crashes through me. He works me through it, murmuring praise against my neck until I'm boneless and shaking in his arms.

"Such a good girl," he whispers, pressing soft kisses to my throat. "So perfect for me."

“I have to go,” I moan.

"Actually," he growls, stepping between my thighs, "I think I'll have dessert first."

Before I can respond, he's pushing the shirt up and dropping to his knees. His tongue finds my still-sensitive clit, and I cry out, my hands fisting in his hair.

"Colt, I can't—I just—"

"You can." His voice is muffled against me, vibrating through my core. "Give Daddy another one, baby girl. I want to taste you again."

He works me with his mouth and fingers until I'm sobbing his name, coming apart on his kitchen counter while he holds my thighs open and devours me like a man starved.

When I finally come down, he's looking up at me with such hunger that it steals my breath.

Every touch sends sparks through me, and by the time we're done eating, I'm squirming against him.

But then, in the quiet moment after, reality starts creeping in.

What am I doing? I have a three-year-old son at home. I made myself a promise after Legend's father—no men, no relationships, not until Legend was older and could understand. Not until I was sure someone wouldn't just walk away when things got complicated.

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