“I love that you’ve got it all handled out there,” he says, eyes glinting. “But here?” His palm tips my chin up. “You don’t have to be the girl with the perfect handle on everything. Not with me.”
Something loosens low in my stomach, the part of me that’s been braced for years, always ready to take care of myself and others around me. I nod before I can think too hard about it.
His mouth curves. “Good girl.”
The words land like a switch, quiet but absolute. I’m not steering anymore. I don’t have to be when he’s around. “Yes, Daddy.” My voice rings with acceptance. “I’m giving myself over to you.”
Chapter 11
Nathan
Yes Daddy…
The words land on my chest like a weight I’ve been waiting to hold forever—the one responsibility I crave and need. I ease back on my elbows, eating her up with my greedy gaze.
She’s a feast like this—every inch of her stretched beneath me, trusting me to do what I will to her.
The hem of her T-shirt is warm from her skin. Then I realize it’s mine. My mouth curves, my chest swelling. “Little thief, aren’t you?”
Color rushes into her cheeks, spreading down her neck. “I needed something that was yours. So I claimed it.”
Savage satisfaction punches through me. Jasmine wanting me to take control claws at my instincts to protect, cherish, and pamper her.
I roll the T-shirt up, slow and deliberate—over the smooth plane of her stomach, the subtle definition of her ribs, the soft rise of her breasts with their perfect light brown nipples—until it clears her head. Her straight hair falls forward until she pushes it back.
Her skin gleams golden brown, silky smooth—a canvas for me to paint on.
I let my gaze roam lower until I’m level with her bare pussy. The scent of her arousal hits, musky and strong, flooding my bloodstream. My mouth aches for a fresh taste, and I vow never to go long without eating her again.
“You need feeding up, little bird,” I murmur, tracing the sharp line of her hipbone with my thumb.
Fresh awe hits me as she trembles under my touch. How can such fragility hold such a brave and generous heart? For a moment, I wonder if I can protect and nurture her for the rest of my life, as she deserves.
Yes, I can. And I will, something deep and primal answers.
“I’m all bones.” She huffs a breath, fingers curling loosely against the sheets, eyes darting down for a second before coming back to me. “I know.”
A tsk slips from me as I send my fingers up her ribcage to cup one small, perfect breast. Her breath hitches.
I squeeze the warm, lush weight, my mouth watering at the sight of the pert nipple. With my other hand, I stroke down the line of her hip to her pubic bone.
Her gaze meets mine, a little defiant, a little unsure. My chest aches at the idea of my little bird pining after me without me realizing it. There is so much I have to make up for.
“Where it matters, you are lush, baby girl.” I trace the shape of her pussy lips and have the reward of seeing her lean thigh muscles quake. “Even as I walked away, all I could think of was how violently this pretty cunt squeezed me, keeping me deep inside. You’re perfect, you get that?”
Her nod is… hesitant.
She’s giving me a lot tonight—her trust, her control—but I want more. I want all her doubts about herself, about me, about us, erased completely.
“What I meant is that you need looking after. Not just the other way around.”
“Are you going to cook me breakfast, lunch, and dinner?” she says, a naughty glint entering her eyes.
Relief hits me like a wave. I never want to see her spirit waver.
I chuckle and graze my knuckles over her chin. “No, that would be the opposite of looking after you. I have other ways.”
“Okay,” she says.
