Page 77 of Cruel Alpha Daddy

By the time we finish dinner, it’s getting dark, and I help clean up while Fiona takes Caleb home for a bath. Most of the kids protest as their parents take them home to bed, and I feel a surge of happiness rise in me when I hear their laughter and excuses for wanting to stay up and play.

If I had to pick a moment when my life turned around, it was when I heard baby Todd cry. That was when I realized we couldn’t keep living rough. Then, just a few hours later, Fiona was tossed right at my feet like a sign from the universe that I’d finally made the right decision.

I can’t regret a single thing or dwell on my bad luck ever again. If any event in my life had been even slightly different, I might not be standing here right now, embracing a life I love.

After cleaning up, I head home and find Fiona in Caleb’s room, reading him a story. I sit down next to her and peek over her shoulder.

“Oh, Lord,” I groan. “You aren’t reading him one of those girly books, are you?”

“She is!” Caleb cries in dismay. “I wanna read a comic about Vikings!”

Fiona sighs. “I’m trying to give you a relaxing story that will help you sleep.”

“Well, it’s not working. I’m bored. This is not soothing.”

“I’m experiencing a fair bit of frustration myself,” Fiona says crossly.

“I tell you what,” I say, rubbing Fiona’s shoulders with one hand while I slip the book out of her hands. “How about you go and relax while I finish the bedtime routine?”

“That sounds like a plan.” Fiona leans over and kisses Caleb on the forehead, tucking him in a little before saying good night.

As soon as she leaves, I bend over and whisper to Caleb. “Where’s the good book?”

“Here!” he squeaks, triumphantly pulling the comic out from under his pillow.

After ten minutes of furious, sword-wielding Viking battles, my little man is slipping off to sleep. I stroke his hair gently, turning off his lamp and quietly leaving the room.

Never noticed how much noise I made moving around before, but the second you have a kid, you become a ninja.

I tip-toe down the hall, hoping to sneak up on Fiona. She’s sitting at her dresser, brushing out her wet hair and smelling sweet from her shower.

“I heard you,” she laughs.

I come around the corner, shaking my head. “How come you always know when someone is sneaking up on you?”

“Easy. I just assume someone always is.”

“Well. I won’t always be sneaky, but I can promise you’ll never go anywhere without me following not far behind.”

She turns around in her chair, putting down the brush. “You really think I want to run away?”

I grin as she comes over to me and puts her arms around my waist. “Better not take any chances. Where did I put that chain?”

Fiona loses her smile, putting her hands on my cheeks. “I don’t blame you,” she says quietly. “I really don’t. I know how frightened you were of losing me. If it wasn’t for Caleb, I wouldn’t have tried to run away from you.”

“I know,” I whisper, stroking her cheek. “I’m sorry I kept you from him.”

She kisses me, her warm lips kneading against mine as our bodies press together. When I run my hands down her back and give her butt a firm squeeze, she jumps in my arms, giggling.

With the lightest of touches, I slide my fingers across her hips and up towards her breasts. I tease her nipples gently through the fabric of the robe before I grab the edges and flick it back from her shoulders. Fiona bends her body towards me, clasping her hands behind my head.

As I lower my mouth to her breasts, I wrap my hands around her waist and lift her up, feeling her legs clamp onto me as I spin her around and drop her on the bed. She lets out a little shriek as I fall on top of her and kiss her hard, pinning her with my body. She writhes under me, kissing me back and teasing my tongue with hers. I groan as she bucks her hips up and down, grinding against me.

“That’s not fair,” I grumble.

“Who said I was playing fair?” she asks, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She grabs my belt and tugs my pants open,pulling them down a little so she can run her fingers gently up and down my cock.

“Whoever breaks first has to do breakfast duty,” she whispers in my ear, running her tongue along the bottom of my ear lobe.

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