Page 112 of Merciless Daddy

“The world doesn’t start until seven am, officially.”

“I’ll try to remember that. We leave in eight minutes.”

He crossed to the dresser and set down a stack of clothes. Black trousers. Sweater. Underwear folded between them. Socks.

I looked at him.

“What?”

“You packed my underwear.”

“I moved it from Katerina’s bag to this one.”

“Like I said, you packed my underwear.”

“I like to be efficient.”

I threw the blanket aside and stood. The soreness in my ass made me suck in a breath.

Sal went still.

His gaze dropped. Not to my breasts. Not between my legs. To my face.

“Pain, Little One?”

“No.” I winced.

“Yelena.”

“It’s more like tenderness.”

“Sharp?”

“No, Daddy.”

The title changed his breathing. Barely, but enough to notice.

“Any bruising? Marks?”

“I haven’t checked, Daddy.”

“I’ll check for you.”

Heat went through me.

He waited.

That made it worse.

“Later,” I said.

“Yes, little one.”

He turned his back while I changed.

It should not have been erotic. A man granting privacy in a room was not erotic.

Except Sal stood three feet away, broad shoulders beneath dark wool, his hands loose at his sides. He had seen my bare ass over his lap. He had rubbed lotion into the marks he made. He knew exactly what was hidden beneath my trousers.