Page 83 of Use Me, Daddy

I held her a little tighter, feeling her relax against me. The weight of her trust was as humbling as it was exhilarating. In that moment, I knew—this wasn’t just about control or dominance. It was something far deeper, something I hadn’t dared to name until now.

Love.

And as I lay there, holding her close, I realized that as terrifying as the thought of love was, it didn’t matter. Because no matter what, I wasn’t going to let her go.

Tomorrow, I’d take her deeper into my world. But tonight, I’d hold her like this, the steady rhythm of her breathing the only sound I needed to hear.

I pressed another kiss to the top of her head and let my eyes drift closed, content in the knowledge that for the first time in years, I was exactly where I needed to be.

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my bedroom, painting the walls in hues of soft gold and pale yellow. I stirred, feeling the warmth of Amy’s body nestled against mine, her head resting on my chest, her breathing deep and even.

I didn’t want to move. Holding her like this, with the quiet stillness of morning surrounding us, was a rare kind of peace I hadn’t known I needed. But the day was waiting, and there were things to do.

Shifting slightly, I brushed my fingers through her dark hair, the silky strands slipping between them.

“Sweetheart,” I murmured. “It’s morning.”

She stirred, groaning sleepily as she buried her face against my chest. “Five more minutes,” she mumbled, her voice muffled and heavy with sleep.

A smirk tugged at my lips. “If I let you have five more minutes, it’ll turn into twenty.”

She opened one eye, squinting up at me. “And that’s a problem because?”

“Because we have work to do,” I said, brushing a kiss against her forehead.

Her groggy protest was adorable, but she sat up, rubbing her eyes and pushing her dark waves out of her face. The sight of her, flushed and tousled from sleep, stirred something deep in me.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing and stretching before glancing back at her.

“The meeting with Santini is set.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the sleepiness vanishing from her expression.

“TheLeonardo Santini?” she asked, her voice more cutting now.

“The very same,” I said, crossing to the dresser to pull out a clean shirt. “It’s happening this afternoon at the gallery.”

She bit her lip, looking thoughtful as she pulled the sheet up around her. “So… what’s the plan? Are you showing him specific pieces, or is this more about feeling him out?”

“Both,” I said, shrugging into the shirt and buttoning it up. “He’s interested in a few items from our collection, but I want to get a read on him—what his real interests are, where his loyalties lie. Santini doesn’t make moves without purpose, and neither do I.”

Amy nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Do you think he’s connected to the Orlovs?”

“It’s possible,” I admitted, my voice steady. “But we won’t know until I can get a read on him in person.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. She was always thinking, always analyzing, and it was one of the things I admired most about her.

“Don’t overthink it, baby girl,” I said, stepping closer and tilting her chin up with a finger. “I’ll handle Santini. Your job is to stay close, observe, and do exactly as I say.”

Her brows furrowed slightly, a hint of defiance sparking in her eyes, but she nodded.

“Fine,” she said, though her tone suggested she wasn’t entirely thrilled about being sidelined.

I leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. “Good girl,” I murmured against her mouth. “Now get dressed. We have a long day ahead of us.”

She smirked my way and I gave her a pointed look before she stuck her tongue out and winked.

“Yes, Daddy,” she huffed, before she flounced away into my closet.

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