It was even better. More real. So much more... everything.
“Daddy,” I whisper, testing the word again, watching his jaw tighten in response.
His hands form fists at his sides. “Stop that. We need to talk first.”
But I’m not interested in talking. Every nerve ending is screaming for release, for his hands, for more of those growled commands that make me feel both owned and powerful all at once.
Havoc stands a few feet away, running his hand through his silver hair. His jaw works like he’s fighting some internal battle.
“You don’t understand what’s happening here,” he says finally.
“Then tell me.” I’ve never felt this needy for anything in my life.
“If we cross that line—if I fuck you—” He says the words like they’re being torn from him. “There’s no going back, Sasha. You’ll be mine. Forever.” He drops into the chair at my desk, holding his face in his hands.
I blink, trying to process his words through the haze of desire.
“My old lady. Do you even know what that means?” He runs his hand down his face and then looks at me. “It means you belong to me. Only me. It means no other man touches you, looks at you, even thinks about you. It means my protection, my possessiveness, all of it.”
The intensity in his tone sends another wave of heat between my legs. I should be overwhelmed by his declaration, but instead, each word feels like a caress.
“It means the club sees you as mine. It means wedding rings eventually, but the commitment starts the moment I’m inside you. Do you understand how serious this is?”
I don’t think clearly—I just move. Sliding off the bed, I cross to him where he is sitting in my desk chair and climb into his lap, straddling his thighs.
“Fuck,” he growls, his hands automatically gripping my hips.
The hardness beneath me makes me whimper. I rock against him instinctively, seeking friction.
“Sasha, you need to listen?—”
“I am listening.” I press my lips to his throat, tasting salt and man. “I want to be yours.”
His breath catches as I roll my hips again. I reach between us, fumbling with the button on his jeans, desperate to feel him.
“Stop.” His hand catches mine, grip firm but gentle. He lifts my chin with his other hand, forcing me to meet his gaze. “This is serious, baby girl. I need you to think clearly, not with your greedy little pussy.”
I lean forward, resting my forehead against his. “Since the moment we met, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Havoc. Not for a single day.” My voice trembles with emotion. “I know it’s crazy. I know it’s fast. But nothing about our lives is normal.”
His fingers tighten on my hips. “Sasha?—”
“Let me finish,” I whisper. “When everything was taken from me—when I lost my dad—you were there. And I started feeling things I never felt before. Things I didn’t even know were possible.” I cup his face, feeling the slight roughness of stubble against my palms. “I want you. I want us. Together.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, and when they open again, the intensity in them nearly stops my heart.
“I’m twenty-six years older than you, Sasha. Old enough to be your father.” His voice is rough, pained. “You’re just starting your life.”
“I don’t care.” The words come out fierce and certain. “Age is just a number. What matters is how you make me feel. Safe. Wanted. Alive.” I trace my thumb over his bottom lip. “Besides, I’m an adult.”
A reluctant smile touches his lips. “Technically.”
“Stop trying to change my mind,” I tell him. “This has been inevitable since the beginning.”
His gaze searches mine, looking for doubt or uncertainty. He won’t find any. For all my inexperience, I’ve never been surer of anything.
“So you want to be my old lady?” he asks. “You understand what that means?”
I nod, heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. “Yes. Definitely.”
