Page 105 of Second Chance Daddy
33
CASSIE
I’ve never worn something this… dangerous.
The negligee clings to me, sheer black lace and silk that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. Beneath it? Tight little black thong, garters hugging my thighs, heels that make my legs look a mile long, and a bra that’s one wrong move from spilling my tits straight into his hands.
Tina convinced me. Dragged me into that boutique this morning, smirking like she already knew exactly how tonight would end.
I check the mirror one more time, nerves crackling under my skin, heat pooling low in my belly. He’s mine now. Fully. Publicly. Legally, soon. And tonight? He’ll know exactly what he’s about to marry.
The door clicks. I hear him in the bathroom—water shutting off, the quiet hum of him moving around.
I slide into bed, propping myself up against the pillows, arching my back just enough to push my tits up, angling my hips, the garters stretched tight along my thighs.
When he steps out, towel slung low on his hips, hair damp, water droplets sliding down the ridges of his abdomen—I remember who I did this for.
He stops dead. An actual whistle escapes his mouth, low and wrecked. His eyes drag over every inch of me—slow, hungry, dark with pure fucking sin.
“Jesus Christ, Cass. Look at you.”
“Too much?” I ask, suddenly feeling shy.
“Never,” he whistles again.
His towel hits the floor, forgotten, his body carved from shadows and ink, muscles flexing as he stalks toward the bed like a man who’s about to destroy everything in his way. But he doesn’t move; he just keeps staring at me like I’m some mirage.
I swallow hard. “You gonna stand there all night or?—”
I don’t finish because he’s already moving, crossing the room in three long strides, crawling onto the bed like a predator who’s spotted prey. The mattress dips under his weight, and then he’s over me, caging me in with those tattooed arms, droplets of water falling from his hair onto my chest.
“Dressed up for me?” His voice drops, low and dangerous, eyes locked on the garters, the lace, and the swell of my tits straining against barely-there silk.
My pulse skips. “No, for the mailman,” I quip, nerves making me sarcastic. “Yes, for you, idiot. Tina talked me into it.”
His mouth curves, wicked, feral. “Remind me to thank my sister, will you?”
He laughs then and kisses me like he kills. Leaving nothing behind. With his all. His tongue pushes past my lips, claiming me, one hand sliding up to cup my jaw. He tastes fresh and sweet, and I arch into him.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against my mouth, his hand sliding down my neck, over my collarbone, dipping between my breasts. “Been thinking about you all day. In that meeting. With those men. All I could think about was getting home to this.”
His fingers trace the edge of the lace, teasing, barely touching where I need him most. I whimper, pushing into his hand, shameless and hungry.
He moves down my body, leaving a trail of biting kisses along my neck, my collarbone, the swell of my breasts.
When he reaches the lace barely covering my nipple, a wicked smirk curves his mouth like he already owns me.
Then? He bites down, grabbing the lace between his teeth, tugging hard to see more.
The sound that escapes me is pure wreckage—a broken gasp tangled with a moan, my body arching, breath stuttering as cool air hits bare skin.
The lace scrapes over my sensitive nipple, friction sharp, teasing, and the way he watches me, tracking every reaction like I’m prey begging to be devoured—undoes me completely.
“These tits,” he growls while licking a slow circle around my nipple through the lace. “Fucking perfect.”
He shoves the cups down roughly, impatient, freeing my breasts completely. The cool air hits my bare skin, goosebumps racing across me.
He sucks one nipple deep between his lips, tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough to make my back arch, my thighs clench.
