Page 127 of Don't Call Me Daddy
“I need to be inside you,” I grunt.
I scoop her up and wrap a towel around her dripping body before carrying her to the bed.
Goose bumps erupt over her skin as I lay her down on the cool sheets of my bed. I slide my palm over her hard nipples, admiring my view as I look down at her, trying to memorize her every curve and freckle. Her bare pussy looks so fucking beautiful, and my mouth waters to taste her, but the thoughts going through my head have me so turned on that I’m afraid I won’t last much longer.
“Fuck, baby, your pussy is so pretty.”
I slide my palm over her mound, and she flinches from my slight touch as I line my cock up with her entrance.
I grab her hips, pulling her closer to me, and thrust myself inside her in one swift movement, both of us gasping for breath as I drive my cock inside her tight heat.
“Fuck,” I groan, using one hand to cup her tit. I press my other to hold her hip in place as I find that perfect angle that makes her toes curl.
Usually, I ease her into it, but not tonight. Tonight, we’re needy and desperate. Tonight, I don’t have the strength to hold myself back. Tonight, I need to take just as much as I give because this might be my last chance to hold the other half of my soul.
I lose myself in her, intertwining my fingers in hers as our bodies say everything our words can’t.
Goodbye.
I love you.
Please don’t leave me.
I take my time, drawing out every touch, every stroke as I keep my eyes trained on hers, swallowing her whimpers of pleasure with my kisses as we both fall apart. Again and again.
We give each other everything we have to give, riding the currents of pleasure until we collapse in the twisted sheets in a sweaty heap of tangled limbs. I pass Ivy a bottle of water from my side table before grabbing a wet washcloth to clean her up. She doesn’t fight me when I wrap her in a soft white robe or when I insist on helping her brush out her tangled hair before tucking her into bed beside me.
I think we both needed this night.
I click off the lamp and hold her, eyes wide open as I stare up at the ceiling. It doesn’t take long before her breathing grows heavy, and she’s fast asleep, looking so goddamn beautiful, like a fallen angel. My naughty, bratty angel sent to unravel me from the tangled shield of guilt I kept woven around myself. In just thirty days, this devastatingly perfect woman has changed my whole damn life.
The thought of losing her outweighs any fear I’ve ever had. Could I give it all up if it meant I wouldn’t have to say goodbye?
In a heartbeat.
Suddenly, an idea pops into my mind, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m sliding out of bed, and making my way upstairs to my office.
Lucky for me, Roman answers on the first ring.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Ivy
“Good morning. I’ve got your coffee here, just the way you like it,” Leo says as he places my favorite coffee mug on the side table before ruffling my hair.
A small smile pulls at my lips because I love how gentle he is with me in the mornings, how he’s so nurturing with the way he wakes me up.
He walks to the windows, drawing the curtains open. Warm rays of sunshine streak through the room, and the sun peeks between the mountains in the distance. It’s a view that should be on a postcard, and I feel so lucky to be one of the few people who can say they’ve seen it in person. Leo disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the faucet turn on as he brushes his teeth and shaves.
I reach my arms over my head and stretch my aching muscles, feeling lighter than I have in weeks despite the unease that’s still coiling in my stomach over what to do. Usually, I’m not one to stress because I know things have a way of workingout, but this feels different somehow, like the stakes are so much higher and I don’t want to make the wrong choice.
My mind was racing nonstop last night, and I knew there’d be no way I could fall asleep, but then Leo found a way to take my mind off it. It’s like he knows the inner workings of my mind better than I do, and he gave me the best distraction anyone could ask for. By the time he was through with me, I was so sated, so exhausted, that the only thing I could do was sleep. It was exactly what I needed and everything I’m going to miss.
Last night, I let my heavy eyelids drift closed, and the next thing I knew, I was sixteen years old, sitting with my sister in my childhood bedroom.
I touch my cheek, remembering the dream. It was so realistic. She was sitting across from me, holding my hands, and I could feel her calm, reassuring presence. She looked exactly the way I remember… before she got sick. I told her all about my adventures in Ashford Falls, how I managed to check nearly everything off her list. I told her about Leo and how strong my feelings for him had grown. We laughed as she teased me, prying for all the details, and I told hereverything. I held nothing back as her eyes widened and her cheeks burned in embarrassment. This was how I’d always imagined it would be between us. We’d grow older, and we’d share our lives—the good, the bad, and everything in between. We’d keep no secrets because we always knew when the other was lying anyway.
And when I was finished, she smiled at me and told me how proud she was to see me living my life and that I deserved to be happy. She said that she’d always be there, watching over my life like it was her favorite soap opera, and to make sure I didn’t let it get too boring, or she’d be forced to cause chaos for her own entertainment. It’s exactly something she’d say, and for some reason, I believe it.
