Page 61 of Use Me, Daddy

I should have been running for the door, not standing here, facing him down like this. But the way he looked at me, like I was the one thing in his world that truly mattered, sent heat pooling in my belly. The rational part of my mind screamed at me to leave, to turn my back on all of this before it was too late.

But my body… my body was betraying me, every nerve alight with an electric anticipation that was impossible to ignore.

He had revealed himself to me, stripped away the façade, and now all that remained was the raw, brutal truth. He was a criminal. A leader. A man who wielded power like a weapon.

And instead of being repulsed by it, I felt… drawn in. Like a moth to a flame, knowing I’d get burned but unable to resist the pull.

“Are you scared?” he asked softly, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the quiet room.

I swallowed hard, meeting his gaze.

“I’d be lying if I said no,” I admitted, forcing myself to stay steady under his watchful eyes. “This… this is a lot to take in, Aleksei. Finding out you’re… part of the Bratva, that you’ve been involved in God knows what…” I trailed off, shaking my head. “It’s terrifying.”

He stayed silent, waiting, his dark eyes studying me like he could see straight into my soul. I took a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

“But” I continued, lifting my chin, refusing to let him see how much he affected me, “some part of me… it’s drawn to you. Even now. Even after everything you’ve told me.”

His eyes darkened, a small, almost victorious smile tugging at his lips.

“Is that so?” he murmured. “And why is that, baby girl? Tell me.”

I bit my lip, trying to find the words.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “Maybe it’s because you’re… different. I’m tired of boys pretending to be men. You’re… you’re something else entirely.”

His smile grew, slow and dark, and I could see the satisfaction in his eyes. He knew what he was doing to me, the way he made my pulse race, the way he made me forget all the reasons I should be running away.

“You like that I’m dangerous, don’t you?” he whispered, leaning in so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my ear. “It turns you on.”

I couldn’t deny it, not when my body was betraying me so blatantly. My skin was flushed, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum.

“Maybe,” I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath.

His fingers trailed down my arm, sending shivers skittering across my skin.

“Good,” he said softly, his voice like a caress. “Because I’m going to show you just how dangerous I can be. But you’ll like it, Amy. I promise you that.”

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. This was insane. I should be terrified. But all I could think about was the way his touch set my nerves on fire and how his voice sent tremors of desire straight through me.

Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, or maybe it was the way he looked at me like I was his. But whatever it was, I couldn’t deny that I was falling deeper into his world with every breath, every touch, every word he spoke.

And the scariest part?

I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop it.

I watched as Aleksei leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on mine, dark and unreadable. For a moment, I wondered if I had pushed him too far with my defiance, with my willingness to meet him head-on.

But then, slowly, deliberately, he stood.

My heart skipped a beat as he made his way around the table, his movements slow and predatory. He never broke eye contact, his gaze heavy and intense, as if he was studying every flicker of emotion that crossed my face.

When he reached me, he didn’t touch me at first. He just stood there, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of him—something woodsy and masculine—making my knees go weak.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure as I looked down at the floor. But then he lifted a finger, just a single finger, and tilted my chin up. The touch was feather-light, yet it sent a shockwave through me. My breath caught in my throat as he guided me to stand, that single touch enough to make me rise from my chair as if pulled by an invisible thread.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, filled with a heat that made my stomach clench with desire. There was no more pretending, no more trying to deny what I felt. I wanted him—desperately, achingly, in a way that made me feel wild and reckless.

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