Page 52 of Use Me, Daddy

I liked the way he took control, the way he made me feel small and powerful all at once. And as I finished the last bite of breakfast, I knew that tonight, whatever he had planned, I wasready to follow him wherever he led, but that didn’t mean I would give in without a fight.

Because as much as I hated to admit it, there was a part of me that craved this.

That push and pull between us.

The game we played where we both fought and only one of us came out on top.

I couldn’t wait.

After finishing breakfast, I slid out of bed, still feeling the lingering warmth of Aleksei’s kiss on my lips.

I shook my head, trying to focus as I took a shower and rummaged through my closet. Tonight was going to be big, and there was no room for mistakes. I couldn’t afford to let myself get distracted by him, no matter how much he got under my skin.

Or in my panties.

My pussy clenched hard.

I chose a sleek black dress—something professional but flattering, with just enough flair to look confident in front of our high-profile guests. As I zipped it up, I could feel Aleksei’s eyes on me, that dark, knowing gaze that made my hands tremble. I slipped into a pair of classic black heels and turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, watching me with that infuriatingly calm expression.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes flicking over me appreciatively.

“Ready,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. But the way he looked at me, like he was undressing me with his eyes, made my heart race.

He held out his arm, and I hesitated for a split second before slipping my hand into the crook of his elbow. The gesture was so… intimate, so possessive, and it sent a shiver through me as we walked out of my apartment together. There was a car waiting for us when we stepped outside.

The drive to the gallery was filled with a comfortable silence. Aleksei’s presence beside me was solid, reassuring in a way that I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit. By the time we arrived, the sun was already high in the sky.

The gallery was already buzzing with activity as we stepped inside. The staff was moving quickly around the space to prepare for the evening. Aleksei’s hand pressed lightly against my lower back, guiding me through the organized chaos, and I found myself leaning into his touch, despite my best efforts to remain composed.

“Go ahead and get started. I need to get changed,” he said softly, his breath brushing my ear.

I nodded, biting my lip as I watched him stride down the hall toward his office. It was impossible not to admire the way he moved, every step radiating confidence and control. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

I busied myself with last-minute preparations. I double-checked the guest list, reviewed the catalog of pieces up for auction, and ensured the staff knew their roles.

As I flipped through my notes, I heard his office door open. I turned to find Aleksei stepping out, now dressed in a fresh,perfectly tailored charcoal suit that hugged his broad shoulders and fit him like a second skin. My breath hitched for a moment as our eyes met.

“How do I look?” he asked with a slight smirk, adjusting his platinum cufflinks.

“Like you’re ready to command the entire room,” I said, trying to keep my voice light, even though my heart was racing.

“Good,” he murmured, stepping closer until he was right in front of me. He reached out, adjusting the collar of my dress with the faintest brush of his fingertips. “And you… look stunning.”

I swallowed, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “Thank you,” I managed, trying to ignore the way my skin tingled where his fingers had touched me.

“Let’s go over the final details,” he said, all business now, though his eyes still held that knowing spark that made my knees weak.

We moved through the gallery together. I couldn’t deny that we worked well as a team, his instincts and his eye for detail unmatched. He had an uncanny ability to know exactly which pieces would draw the highest bids, which clients needed a little extra attention, and how to create just the right atmosphere to encourage competitive bidding.

“Make sure the lighting over the Degas is perfect,” he instructed, his tone precise. “It needs to catch the light just right. I want them to see every detail of such a magnificent piece.”

I nodded, scribbling notes on my clipboard. “And the Chagall in the far corner—should we move it closer to the entrance? It might create a better flow.”

Aleksei paused, his eyes flicking to me with a hint of surprise.

“Good call,” he said, his smile almost approving. “Let’s do that.”

For a moment, I allowed myself to bask in that small victory.

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