“Chicago.” Chris merges onto the highway. “Not that I spend too much time here.”
He reaches across the console between us and rests his hand on my thigh, squeezing it tenderly. As we drive deeper into the city, he glances over at me every so often, the look on his face almost like he can’t quite believe I’m really here. We drive along a lush green park and pull up to the curb before a house that is similar in design to an NYC brownstone. The gray brick and black-framed window home is beautiful. Although not at all what I expected.
After killing the engine, he steps out, circling to open my door before I can reach for it. His hand finds mine again as he helps me out of the Bronco, his fingers lingering like he’s afraid tolet go.
Inside, the house feels both rustic and modern. It’s warm. Lived in.Chris. Leather and wood decor fill the space. A wall of bookcases—with books, surprisingly—is lined with framed photos of men in uniform and places I assume he has traveled. I drag my fingers along the wood as I take in the massive brick fireplace on the opposing wall.
“Wow,” I breathe. “This place is beautiful.”
“Thanks.” He gives an awkward smile. “I gutted it room by room after… I needed something… steady. Somewhere to come home to.”
The unspoken truth hangs heavy between us. He rebuilt this place after us. Aftereverything. My throat tightens, and my heart hurts a little, but I manage a small nod. “You did a great job. It really is beautiful.”
He shows me around the rest of the house: the kitchen, the office, the rooftop deck overlooking the park across the street. It’s neat and organized. Every room carries a piece of him. The white linens and soft throws throughout the house give it hints of feminine warmth beneath the masculine edges. I’ve been here only a few minutes, but it feels likehome. Like even though he never expected me to be here, he still built it for us.
When he leads me down the hall to the master bedroom, I stop just inside the doorway. It’s simple. but perfect. A large bed with muted sheets faces the wall of windows with a gorgeous view of the lush park beyond them. Light spills from them across the maple floors, illuminating the entire room.
“And where’s my room?” I ask, half-teasing.
Heturns to me slowly, eyes dark and mischievous as he arches a brow. “Your room?”
I tilt my chin up. “Yeah. I’m assuming I’m not sleeping in here.”
A faint smirk curves his lips. “Baby, thisisyour room. I want you in my bed. And at my mercy.”
“You think you can drag me halfway around the world and I’ll just willingly climb into your bed?”
“Yes.” His tone drops low, gravelly, and dangerous. “Because good girls listen to Daddy.”
He moves before I can react, pinning me to the doorframe. The air leaves my lungs as his body presses against me, heat rolling off him in waves. His mouth finds mine, and the kiss is nothing like the ones before. It’s all-consuming, claiming what he wants. His hand slides up my neck, fingers curling in my hair, and I melt.
“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers against my lips through our kiss, eventually pulling away to await my answer.
My hands slide over the firm muscles of his chest, feeling the solid thud of his heartbeat against my palms. I look up at him, and I’m utterly undone. “Good girls don’t tell Daddy ‘no.’”
The words are barely out of my mouth before his lips are on mine again—slower this time, reverent. His touch turns gentle, careful of every mark, every bruise, every ache. He kisses the corner of my mouth, my jaw, and the hollow of my throat like he’s mapping the places he thought he’d never feel again.
He carefully pulls the too-big hoodie off me, letting it fall to the floor as he returns his attention to my body. His palms skim my sides, and his breath ghosts over my body as he cautiously kisses over every inch of exposed skin. He lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bed. The mattress dips when he lays me on it. Following, he carefully climbs over me. He braces a hand beside my head, his other tracing the length of my arm. His fingers leave a trail of heat that makes my skin prickle with excitement.
Staring down at me, his gaze isn’t hurried or hungry as it rakes over my body. This isn’t spurred on by lust or need. It’s about finding something real after everything that has been ripped apart.
The corners of his mouth twitch upward as he adores me—admiring me even though I’m marbled in bruises—and I can’t help but smile back at him. Reaching up, I grab the shirt resting at the nape of his neck and pull it over his head.
He presses his lips to the crook of my neck, kissing the length of it until he reaches my ear. His lips dust around the shell of it, and he whispers, “Do you want Daddy to make you feel good?”
As I kiss down Reese’s neck and over the swell of her breasts, I work my hand between us and into her sweatpants. My fingers rub over the soft mound of her pussy before slipping between her lips, a pleased groan rising from me when I slide over the slickness. I drag my fingertips over her clit, pulling them free and eliciting a displeased moan.
I continue my way down her body with a trail of kisses and soft bites, her pert nipples rising and falling as my mouth reaches the waistband of her pants. When I dip my fingers back beneath them, I stand from the bed and drag her pants off her legs. Her thighs are splayed just far enough to garner me a view of the glistening pink flesh of her pussy. Every inch covered in an inviting wetness I want to lick from her.
Next, I shove my sweats down my thighs and kick them from my feet as I admire the offering laid out before me. “I want your sweet pussy on my face, baby,” I gravelly whisper, climbing onto the bed and pulling her toward me. She positions herself at my shoulders, facing my legs, and lowers just enough that mylips dust against hers. “Onmy face,” I growl, wrapping my arms around her thighs and dragging her against my mouth.
I’m not sure if the gasp that blows over her lips is from surprise or my tongue gliding over her clit. And I don’t care. Her body reacts to every swipe of my tongue as I take my time licking and sucking her to orgasm. She’s so fucking wet that her arousal is dripping into my mouth and over my chin. I bring her right to the edge, and her hips swirl, eagerly riding my tongue to push herself over the edge.
She comes beautifully, sweet cries of pleasure filling the room as her clit throbs against my tongue. “I want your lips on my cock,” I moan against her pussy, sliding my hands up her back and easing her forward. She wraps her hand around my cock and lifts it to her lips. Darting her tongue out, she teasingly swirls it around the thick tip, licking away the precum beading on it. Her lips circle my shaft, and she slides over the first few inches of my length, with my tongue delving through her pussy.
“You suck Daddy’s cock so fucking well,” I breathlessly grit against her inner thigh. My fingers thread through the curly locks at the back of her head, and I lightly fist her hair. “Take more,” I instruct, my words vibrating against the arousal-swollen lips of her pussy. “Bury me in your throat, baby. I want to feel you screaming around my cock when I make you come again.”
With my hand on the back of her head, guiding her movements, Reese takes me deeper. A breathy gag billows around my cock as she pushes me over the back of her tongue and down into her throat. I groan my pleasure into her as I devour her delicious pussy. Every moan andwhimper I pull from her vibrates around my cock, only making me want to feast on her more. When she comes, it’s so fucking hard that I almost spill down her throat.
