Page 28 of Daddy's Naughty Realtor

He stands, meeting me halfway. "I already know that, kitten. You've never needed anyone. It's one of the things I love most about you."

There it is again. Love. So easily spoken by him, so difficult for me to acknowledge.

"What else?" I ask, my voice hardly more than a whisper. "What else do you love about me?"

His hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing across my bottom lip. "Your strength. Your determination. The way you never back down from a challenge." His eyes hold mine, intense and unwavering. "The way you look in this dress. The way you looked thirty years ago, laughing in the rain. The way you'll look twenty years from now, when we've built a life together."

My breath catches. "You're very sure of yourself."

"No." He shakes his head slightly. "I'm sure of us. Of what we could be, if you'd let yourself believe in it too."

I've spent so long being cautious, protecting myself, keeping people at arm's length. The idea of letting someone in, really in, terrifies me. But the alternative? Walking away from this second chance terrifies me more.

"I'm trying," I whisper. "To believe. To trust."

"That's all I ask." His arms slip around my waist, drawing me closer. "That, and one more thing."

"What's that?"

His smile turns wicked, a glimpse of the dominant man hiding behind the polished businessman. "That you let me take this dress off you. Slowly."

Heat floods through me, pooling low in my belly. "I think that can be arranged."

His mouth claims mine then, the kiss deep and possessive and full of promise. I surrender to it, and to him, with a completeness that would have terrified me a month ago.

Jeremy’s kiss deepens, his hands roaming down the curve of my back, fingers toying with the zipper of my dress. He pulls back just enough to murmur against my lips, “Turn around, kitten.”

My breath stutters, but I do as he says, my bare arms hanging at my sides, heart drumming wildly in my chest. His fingers move slowly, deliberately, easing the zipper down the length of my spine. The dress slips from my shoulders and pools at my feet like a ribbon of fire. I feel the cool air against my bare skin, and then his warmth behind me.

“No bra,” he says, voice low and thick with heat. “You planned this.”

“I thought about planning it,” I admit, glancing back at him with a little smile. “But mostly I just wanted to see how you’d look at me.”

Like, the way he’s staring at me right now. A starving man standing before a buffet of deliciousness. He steps closer, his hands warm on my waist as he guides me backward until the back of my thighs brush against the couch.

And just when I think he’ll press me down and take me, just when I think I know where this is going, he pauses.

His hands catch my wrists, gentle but firm. “Wait.”

I freeze, looking up at him. “Wait?”

“There’s something we need to settle first,” he says, eyes searching mine. “You told me professionally you need control, independence and respect. And you’ll have all of it. That’s yours, Gina. Always. But here”—he gestures between us— “when it’s just us, when it’s personal… I need your trust. I need your submission.”

I swallow hard. Did I hear him correctly? “Submission?”

“Not just sex,” he says. “I want us to build something deeper. Something honest. This isn’t about games. It’s about you letting go when we’re alone. It’s about choosing to let me lead.”

My pulse pounds in my throat. “You mean like you mentioned the other day?” He’d so casually dropped the fact that he was a practicing Daddy Dom and knew exactly what kind of books I read, before we were interrupted and never returned to the conversation.

His smile flickers. “Exactly like that. If we do this, I will take care of you. I set the tone. And when it’s needed, correct you. Discipline isn’t punishment. It’s structure. Safety. Boundaries. I want to give you that, if you want it too. Are you ready for me to take charge of our relationship? No more games. Just you and me, doing life together for however long we have left. I want to be the last man you kiss, the last man you wake up beside. You were my first love and I want you to be my last love, too. We only do this if you consent, kitten.”

He waits, patient and unshakable.

The word is in my mouth before I can second-guess it.

“Yes.”

That single syllable changes everything. Jeremy’s eyes darken with approval. He sits on the couch, pulling me gently over his lap, adjusting me until I’m draped across his thighs, completely exposed, my bare skin flush against the fabric of his slacks.

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