Page 34 of Reckless Single Daddy

“Stop torturing me, Cade,” she groans quietly.

I pull away to look into her eyes. That simmering fire has been replaced with a liquid heat, begging to be quenched. After what feels like an eternity, our lips meet in a hot, steamy embrace filled with weeks of pent-up frustration, possession, and lust. But a new emotion has entered the mix this time: a deep, mutual, tender yearning. It expresses our shared feelings for each other that our words cannot.

Possession overtakes me again, and I want her completely at my mercy. My hands tighten in hers, stilling her arms over her head as my lips descend down her neck, nipping at the skin slightly.

Her breathing quickens at my assault, and the sound of it sends my desire soaring. Pulling away slightly, I unbutton her shirt, planting kisses as I do until I’m right below her belly button. She’s downright panting now, and I stand up against to fully remove her shirt. Not skipping a beat, I remove her bra, letting it fall to the floor with her shirt. My desire for her is begging me to take what belongs to me, like we’re two magnets unable to resist each other.

As if sensing my intention to dominate her, she presses a firm hand into my chest and pushes me onto her bed. The old bed creaks, throwing me off slightly, but I pay close attention as she climbs over me. She’s clearly reasserting her authority over me, of the situation, and if I wasn’t ready for her before, I am now. My erection strains against my pants, and she looks at it with undisguised hunter. I stifle the urge to give in to her play, to beg her to touch me where I most want her.

She kneels back to grab my shirt. With a strength I didn’t know she had, she rips it open, making buttons clatter against the floor and walls, but I don’t care; I have more. I growl, turned on more than I can say by this domineering side she’s exposing to me. Her soft hands skim along my chest and stomach, and she rakes her nails along each newly exposed swath of skin.

I grit my teeth at the exquisite sensations. All she’s doing is caressing me, and I feel like I’m going to blow like a clumsy teenager.

My muscles tense as she finds my belt and unbuckles it, moving with a slowness meant to enrage me. I groan, leaning my head back into the pillow as she takes her time sliding off my pants. If she’s trying to punish me for my mistakes, then she’s doing an impeccable job so far. She takes her time exploring me, kissing and licking me from my neck to right above the waistband of my boxers, making me wait and beg for more of her. I squeeze my eyes shut and press my hands into the mattress, determined not to give in though it’s taking every ounce of my self-control.

I inhale hard as I feel her hand slowly slip under my boxers. I can’t help but release a low, rumbling groan as her fingers close around me.

“Apologize,” she demands.

My eyes fly open, and I meet her gaze. I know my eyes have gone black with desire, but her command immediately steels my resolve. I won’t apologize. I won’t apologize for wanting to protect her, for wanting to tell the world she belongs to me. And I won’t apologize to this stalker that I got the woman they clearly so desperately want.

I will not apologize for any of it.

“No,” I reply.

Her fingers squeeze my rock-hard cock, and I growl, gritting my teeth until I’m sure I’ll break them. This woman will be the death of me. My instincts scream at me to thrust into her hand, to get the relief I desperately crave.

But I remain silent.

“Apologize.”

I keep my mouth sealed shut, watching my chest rise and fall rapidly even though I’m in the best shape of my life. This is the effect she has on me, this woman I once saw as my best friend’s baby sister.

“No,” I choke out.

She just smirks at me, letting go of me as she gets off the bed. She stands beside the bed, just out of my reach. I watch her naked body as she starts taking baby steps away from me as if daring me to snatch her back. Her skin is flushed, her nipples are perked, and I see the tantalizing slickness between her legs. Her desire is just as scorching as mine, but she’s willing to wait it out for as long as needed if it means getting what she wants.

Stubborn as ever.

“Okay, then,” she says as she watches me intently. She hums, and her hand slowly descends down her body. I watch, transfixed, as her hand inches closer to the place I’m aching to be inside. It dances along her slick flesh, leaving me in agony on the bed, my erection about to rip a hole through my boxers.

When her eyes flutter shut with pleasure and the slightest hint of a moan escapes her lips, it’s game over for me. I spring up from bed, scoop her up in a fireman’s carry, and push her back on the bed.

I pull off my boxers and take myself in hand as I start to position myself on top of her. But with surprising strength, she quickly flips us over, making me groan in frustration.

“Apologize.”

This woman! She just won’t quit, will she? She’s on her knees, her hands pressing down on my chest, hovering herself over my aching tip. She lowers herself just a little until our flesh just barely touches, rolling her hips slightly, teasing me mercilessly as I lay back and grit my teeth.

I growl, my animalistic lust for her spiking in me tenfold. I grip her hair in my fist, pull her toward me, and press her lips to mine in a bruising kiss. She moans into my mouth, and I take advantage of her momentary distraction by shooting my hips upward until I’m buried inside her. She gasps but does not resist my invasion, finally giving into her need for me.

Or is she? She sits up until I’m almost out of her, then slams her hips down to mine, fully encasing me again.

“Fuck, Sloane,” I groan, placing my hands firmly on her waist.

We find our rhythm, our bodies synchronizing as one. I slam into her repeatedly, into that spot I’ve learned makes her feral. She starts keening so loudly, I bring a hand over her mouth andtskat her like I’m scolding a naughty child. She seems to haveforgotten we’re in her childhood home—and her family is very much here.

I feel her grin against my hand as if I’m just egging her on. She picks up her own pace, moving her hips in rolling thrusts, and it’s my turn to force down a loud groan as I feel her walls squeeze deliciously against me. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s going to be the death of me.

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