Page 40 of Use Me, Daddy

His eyes flicked down for a moment, but when they met mine again, they were as steady as ever.

“And what exactly is it that you want, Amy?” he asked, his tone annoyingly composed. He took a slow sip of his bourbon, not taking the bait.

Fuck.

I could feel my confidence wavering, my carefully rehearsed plan starting to slip through my fingers. I had expected him to rise to the challenge, to meet me with that same intensity that had left me breathless all week. But he just watched me with that infuriating, cool demeanor, and it was driving me crazy.

His gaze bored into mine, and I squirmed a little, feeling smaller and smaller by the second.

How could he do this to me with nothing more than a look?

“I think you know,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, to regain the upper hand.

He set his glass down, the soft clink of crystal against wood seeming to echo in the quiet room. He stood up slowly, unfolding his tall frame with that predatory grace that sent a shiver down my spine, even though I tried to suppress it.

“I think you know what you want, but not necessarily what you need,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, velvety tone that made my heart skip a beat.

I felt my cheeks heat, the blush creeping up my neck as he came closer, his eyes locked on mine. I wanted to keep pushing, to hold my ground, but he was too close, too calm, too… sure. He leaned in, his scent—dark and intoxicating—filling my senses and making it hard to think.

“What do you really need?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

I swallowed hard, the words catching in my throat. I was losing control, and he knew it. The game I’d thought I was playing was quickly unraveling with every step he took toward me.

“Aleksei,” I started, trying to regain my footing, but my voice came out softer, more uncertain than I intended.

He was so close now, his breath brushing my ear, his hand coming to rest lightly on my waist.

“What do you need, baby girl?” he whispered, the words sending a rush of heat straight through me. “Tell me. Stop pretending, and just tell Daddy what you need.”

I bit my lip, trying to fight back the flood of emotions that his words stirred up. I’d come in here thinking I could best him, thinking I could turn the tables and make him break. But now, with his fingers brushing my skin, his voice coaxing the truth out of me, I realized I was in way over my head.

“Tell me,” he said again, his voice firmer this time, his grip tightening just enough to send a jolt through me. “What do you need from Daddy?”

I hesitated, my breath hitching. I wanted to tell him, but saying it out loud felt like admitting defeat. And yet, the way he was looking at me, the way his body was closing in on mine, I couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I… I need you,” I finally whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

His smile was slow, triumphant.

“There’s my good girl,” he murmured, and just like that, I knew that what came next probably wasn’t going to go the way I wanted it to go.

My asshole clenched, and I let out a tiny whimper before I clamped my lips shut and turned my head, but not before I saw his lips turn up in the tiniest smirk.

He’d heard me.

His fingers tightened on my waist, pulling me closer until there was barely an inch between us, the heat of his body pressing against mine.

“So, you need Daddy, do you?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, like gravel sliding over silk. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that, baby girl.”

I tried to keep my composure, but the way he looked at me, the heat in his eyes, the way his thumb was now tracing slow circles just above the waistband of my skirt—it was driving me mad. I’d come in here thinking I could control this, that I could play his game and win. But he was peeling away every layer, every defense I had, leaving me raw and exposed.

My cheeks flamed, and I tried to turn my face away, but his hand was already on my chin, tilting my head back to face him. His eyes were so dark, so full of that relentless hunger, that I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

“You walked into my office like you owned the place,” he began, his voice a low, teasing purr that sent shivers down my spine. “Strutting around in that tight little skirt, thinking you could tempt me.” His thumb traced the line of my jaw, his touch soft but commanding. “But here you are, blushing like a schoolgirl, practically panting for me to touch you. So, tell me again—what exactly were you planning to achieve by coming in here?”

My breath hitched, and I opened my mouth to retort, but nothing came out. His words had cut right through me, leaving me breathless, and the way he was looking at me, with that dark, knowing grin, made it impossible to think straight.

“I-I…” I stammered, but he silenced me with a soft laugh.

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