Page 112 of The Masquerade: Room 2

“Indeed it is, Dr. Harrison.” My girl’s voice is like velvet.

“Keep talking to me in that tone, and I’ll drag you right down to the hospital chapel and make you my wife tonight.”

“I don’t think our patient would welcome having their surgery pushed back.” Even with a mask covering the bottom half of her face, I know she’s biting that delicious bottom lip of hers.

“Very well. I guess it’ll have to wait.”

“I’d say so. We’ve just sent out the save-the-date announcements.”

“Stationery is king. Who am I to meddle?”

“Exactly, Dr. Harrison.”

“With that agreed upon, future Mrs. Harrison, let’s save this man’s life.”

The second we’re ready to begin, Freya and I fall into step with each other. Our relationship outside of the operating room has gone from strength to strength, and it translates in here. I can already see how much she’s developed under Dr. Milligan’s tutelage these past few months, and it thrills me. She’s going to be an incredible surgeon—she is an incredible surgeon.

Six hours of painstakingly intricate surgery, and I’m in awe of my future wife. She’s like a sponge—anything I tell her, she applies immediately. The thought has my mind going to other places as our patient is wheeled out to the ICU.

Freya is the most responsive submissive I’ve ever trained. I say that not because I’m madly in love with her but because it’s true—the way her body responds to every touch, kiss, and lash of a flogger.

It’s all I can do not to march her out of this hospital and straight to the club, but tonight, I have the biggest hurdle to jump in my quest to marry the love of my life. I’m meeting Freya’s mother. Ms. Perrington is the only parent between the two of us who is alive or present, so I feel the pressure of the evening more than most. Freya heads home after her shift, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before I get back.

The rest of my shift drags on even though I spend the entire day in and out of the operating room. I’d hate to admit it to my little one, but I’m afraid for the first time in my adult life.

I spent so many years wishing for a family to love and who’d love me back. To be a son again. By the time I reached fifteen, I gave up hope and hardened myself to the world and to the prospect of being important to anyone. I’ve never had to impress a woman’s family and win over a mother. What if she hates me? It could change how Freya sees me.

If I ever had a daughter, I wouldn’t want her shackling herself to some fucked-up guy with a Daddy Dom kink who’s never had to consider anyone other than himself. I know I’m a selfish man. I had to be. It was the only way to survive growing up in the system. I gave myself focus. I made a decision to pursue an elite career that required my undivided attention. That way, I didn’t have to admit to myself that I was alone. I convinced myself it was by choice and gave myself over to a higher calling.

In truth, there was no sacrifice. That would require family and friends. The only thing I had to give up was the past, yet it clung to me in the darkest recesses of my soul, the longing for more—the long-forgotten desire to have a family of my own and a partner who could love me.

By the time I make it back to our apartment, Freya is sound asleep, sprawled across the bed in nothing but a damp towel. She must have passed out after she showered. I could stare at her for hours, committing every inch of her body to memory.

I sit on the edge of the bed before leaning over and kissing the top of her head. She stirs, instinctively reaching for me. “Daddy?” she murmurs, the soft, gravelly tone of her voice so enticing as she straddles the place between wakefulness and slumber.

“Yes, little one.”

“Mmm…” She shifts to get closer to me, her towel slipping, exposing her naked body, and it’s all I can do not to forget about dinner and ravish her all night long.

“Time to get up. We’re meeting your mom in an hour.”

Her eyes peek open. “Can’t we cancel? I’m naked, and you look edible right now. I’ve missed you today. The bed is lonely without you.”

My cock twitches at her request, but I’m resolute. Canceling an hour beforehand would paint me in the worst light, especially if she ever found out why. “As much as I would love to worship your body for the rest of the night, we can’t cancel. I want to make a good first impression. I’ve never met a woman’s parent before.”

Her eyes soften, her expression so endearing as she pulls herself up and crawls into my lap. “Really? Never? Not even in high school?”

“No. Girls weren’t exactly falling over themselves to date the loner, group-home kid.” At this moment, I feel just as vulnerable as I did back then—always so eager to be included and matter to someone—anyone.

Her arms slink around my waist, holding me close. “Well, I’m happy I get to be your first. Don’t worry. My mom is going to love you.”

“You think?” I say as I kiss the top of her head.

“You save lives for a living. I’d say that makes you rather impressive.” She pulls back to look up at me with so much love in her eyes. “You’re a good and honest man. You stand up for those who need it. You love fiercely, and you make me feel so safe and cherished. I love everything about you, and my mom will see that. I promise.”

“I hope so, little one. I’d hate to let you down.”

She leans in, pressing her lips to mine in a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I’m so proud to call you my fiancé. Never doubt that.”

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