Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
"I can?"
"Yes. But it's going to cost you."
My breath catches, my mind snagging on the edge of curiosity. What price would he exact? What cost would he demand?
I hesitate for a full five-count, the possibilities rushing through me in a dizzying parade, before I can't stand the curiosity anymore. I have to know what he wants. The need to know is almost a compulsion.
"W-what will it cost me?"
The fire in his gunmetal gray eyes ignites an answering blaze inside me as he takes a step toward me. His hands clench and unclench as if he's trying to convince himself to keep them away from the flames.
"You on your knees, begging Daddy to fuck you, little girl," he snarls like a man pushed too far to the edge, one desperate for a single ounce of softness.
A wordless sob tears from somewhere deep in my chest. I press my legs together as the ache between them grows to a fever pitch.
He just called himself Daddy.
I shouldn't like that name, and yet…judging by the mess in my panties, I like it all too well. Hearing him say it flips a switch inside me, and all those foreign desires come roaring to the surface, all those secret things I've tried so, so hard never to think about. It's an awakening, a need that's been dormant, waiting for this man who embodies every fantasy I never knew how to explain.
With one word, he sets them free. I ache for him, for his control, to be the one he desires above all things. And this man, my God, this man would be the best damn Daddy.
But we can't do this…can we?
"I…I…"
He closes the distance between us in a single, purposeful stride, his shadow enveloping me in a way that sends heat searing through me. "If you agree to be my little girl for the week, you can have whatever you want," he says, his raw, wild gaze piercing through me.
My lips part, but no sound escapes, drowned out by the furious pounding of my heart. His stare is intense, full of a desperate hunger I feel echoing in my soul.
"I'll treat you like a fucking princess." The gruff promise makes my heart flutter. He's so rough and powerful, yet he speaks with a gentleness that touches something deep inside me. "But I've been overseas for too goddamn long, and it hurts, pretty baby." He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. There's a vulnerability there, an exposed, brittle edge that makes him all the more beautiful.
My body trembles as much as my resolve. He's asking for my submission…and offering a brand new world in return. The desire to call him Daddy, to give myself over to those big hands and let them mold me into the little girl he craves, is overwhelming. It's filthy and wrong, and yet, I've never been tempted like this.
"Christ, you're making it hurt," he groans, his voice like gravelly sin.
My eyes fall to the bulge straining against his boxers—so big and hard. Hurting…for me.
My heart races, fluttering like the wings of a bird as I try to process that reality.
"Answer me, little angel," he rasps. "I need to know what it's going to be."
If I say no, he won't ask again. He won't force me. I'm not sure why I'm so sure of that, but I am. We'll sleep side by side, and he'll keep his hands to himself. But if I say yes…if I agree to pay his price…those big hands will be on my body. He'll touch me, make the ache go away. He'll teach me everything I'm so damn desperate to learn.
My mind says sharing a bed with him without surrendering to his touch would be the sanest choice. But my body…my body screams for something different. It wants his claim and the lessons those dark stares promise. And my heart?
Well…I've always been more likely to listen to it than anything.
I look up at him through my lashes, my breath trembling on my lips. "I'm sorry…Daddy. I didn't m-mean to make it hurt." The words are a whisper, but they echo like a gunshot in the stillness of the room.
He groans—a raw, guttural sound that vibrates all the way to my bones. In an instant, he's on top of me, his arms steel bands dragging me up against the hard wall of his chest. I get lost in the heat of him. In the spicy, masculine scent of him.
"Tell me no, little girl," he growls, his breath blowing warm against the side of my face. There's a glint in his eye, a spark of something feral and fierce. It sets my blood on fire.
I press closer, eager to burn, to melt under the searing roughness of his hands.
"Tell Daddy he's a bad man who shouldn't touch you."
The response he wants climbs up my throat, but what spills out is anything but a denial. "T-touch me, Daddy. Play with me. I'll be a good girl, I promise." The words tumble out, reckless and honest as I cling to him, already drowning in desire.