Page 51 of Loving Luna

She was gone before I could come up with another argument.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

LUNA

By the time I got back to Drake's apartment, I was feeling a hell of a lot more confident than I had when I left Maureen.

I didn't bother knocking, instead shoving the door open and bursting through, nearly slamming it behind me in my angst to get to Drake.

I found him, sitting in the breakfast nook with dead eyes, his hands curled around a half-empty cup of coffee.

He looked up when I slid into the booth across from him but did not acknowledge my presence.

“Drake…” This felt all wrong. The space, the distance between us, the deadness in his gaze. It felt like I was sitting down to a business meeting not to have a heart-to-heart with the man I loved. Frowning, I stood and slid into the booth beside him, nearly sagging with relief when he opened his arms and tucked my head beneath his chin, the same way he always did.

“Where were you?” he asked gently. His tone wasn't angry or accusatory the way I'd expected it to be. Instead he sounded… needy?

“I'm sorry, Daddy,” I whispered. “I just… you know what? It doesn't matter.”

“You needed a break.” He nodded sagely. “It's understandable. And I should have seen it. I should have known.”

“Well…” I pushed out a breath. “It’s not like you haven’t had other things going on.”

“Yeah.” He looked down with sad eyes and sighed deeply. “I don’t want to think about those things right now. I want…” He blew out a breath. “I want to think about anything but that, honestly.”

He tucked his fingers under my chin, lifting my face until my gaze met his, then covered my lips with his and kissed me softly. Or rather, it was soft at first, and then everything changed. The kiss deepened, his tongue fighting for space in my mouth. His hands roamed up my sides, under my shirt, cupping my breasts roughly. When he pulled away, I gasped for air.

“Drake… are you…?” What was I saying? It felt so good. I didn’t want it to stop either. But this hadn’t been what I expected to come back to. “Are we sweeping things under the rug, Drake?”

He met my inquiring gaze, with a sternness I hadn’t seen all week. “Sometimes it’s all you can do,” he finally answered. “But no, we’re just… reclaiming our roles. You’ve held me up this last week or so, Luna. I don’t know what I would have done without you, and I appreciate you so much. You saw my needs and you met them. And now, I see your needs. I’m ready to be your Dom, your Daddy.”

“Daddy,” I whispered reverently. It was like he knew exactly how I felt, and yet didn’t understand me at all. I took a deep breath, my pussy pulsing with need. I wanted him. I wanted this escape from reality, and I wanted him to have it as well, but it wasn’t right. I swallowed hard as Drake leaned in to kiss meagain. “I can’t,” I panted. “We need to talk. I need to tell you where I was, and why I left.”

“It can wait.” He looked at me hard, his brows furrowing together. “It can wait, can’t it?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.” It felt important, like if I didn’t tell him now, I wouldn’t tell him at all, and I knew that wouldn’t be good. My sore ass protested my silence. What if it was marked and I didn’t tell him and he saw it while we were fooling around? “No, Daddy, I don’t think it can. I’m sorry.”

I felt like an asshole, but deep down I knew I was doing the right thing. If he wanted to be my Dom, my Daddy, then he needed to know things. I had to communicate with him like his life hadn’t just fallen down around his ears.

He must have seen the urgency in my face because he nodded, sighed and stood, pulling me to my feet. “Come on, babygirl. Let’s have this discussion somewhere more comfortable.”

We made it to the bedroom and he locked the door behind us. I wondered briefly if his mom was napping, and if she’d wake up and interrupt us. Or maybe she’d gone somewhere? I couldn’t remember if I’d seen her when I came in the apartment or not. “Where’s your mom?” I asked as I instinctively sat on the edge of Drake’s bed.

He shook his head. “That’s not important. You said we needed to talk. So that’s what we’re going to do.” He cocked his head to the side. “What’s up, babygirl? You went home last night?” He shrugged. “A text or a note would have been nice, but I get it. It’s okay. After the week we’ve all had, I think you deserve a pass.”

I shook my head. “Drake, I?—”

“Daddy,” he corrected sharply.

“Daddy, I…” I hung my head. “I’m sorry. And you’re right, I did need some space, but I still should have said something instead of leaving in the middle of the night.”

“Probably. But like I said, not really that big a deal.”

“Drake! Daddy.” I quickly corrected myself. “I’m trying to tell you something. Can you please stop cutting me off to tell me it’s fine?”

“Sorry.” Drake sat on the bed beside me and took my hand in his, placing them in his lap. “I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

“I got scared, Daddy.” I hung my head. Admitting it out loud was harder than I’d thought it would be. “I saw how much pain your mom was in, and all I could see was the potential for that kind of pain growing exponentially the longer we were together.”

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