“That’s my set. On my girl.”
I nodded.
Something in him… shifted. The nervous host, the guilty almost-boyfriend, the man who’d set a table because he thoughtI deserved better—he didn’t disappear. He just moved back a step.
Daddy stepped forward.
His hand slid from my hip to my thigh, fingers tracing the silk.
“Stand up.”
The command went straight through me.
“Turn around.”
I did, hands smoothing the dress up so it stayed bunched around my waist. His breath hitched behind me.
“Look at you. Pretty little sub showing Daddy what belongs to him.”
Heat rushed to my face, down my chest, between my legs. My fingers clenched in the fabric.
“You were nervous. I thought this might help.”
“It does. Immensely.”
His palms slid up the backs of my thighs, slow, reverent, stopping just under my ass.
“Turn back around. I want to see your face when I tell you what I’m thinking.”
I pivoted carefully, still holding the dress bunched in my hands. He leaned back in the chair, looking up at me, jaw tight, eyes dark. Just the way I loved my dom.
“What are you thinking.”
“That I shouldn’t have bothered with plates. I should’ve just sat here and waited for you to walk out of that elevator, then put you exactly where I wanted you.”
“Where’s that.”
He hooked one finger in the waistband of the silk, just enough to tug.
“On my lap. In my bed. Against that window. Pick one, baby. I’m generous when I’ve gone two weeks without you.”
My pulse stuttered.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m in love. Same thing.”
The words landed in my chest like they always did. Something in me loosened. The last of his nerves, the last of mine. Just… gone.
I let the dress fall.
“Better?”
His gaze dragged from my chest to my face. “You break my brain. You know that.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a yes. And a reminder that you’re never leaving this city again.”
