Page 22 of Slash
"Terrifies me," she confirmed. “I’m afraid of being a big disappointment.”
Slash pulled her against his side, feeling some of the tension leave her body as she settled against him. She fit perfectly there, like she'd been made for this exact spot. "Little girl, you could never disappoint me. You're exactly what I need, exactly as you are, both complicated and challenging and absolutely fucking perfect."
"How can you be so sure? You barely know me."
"Because you're here," he said simply. "Because you trust me enough to let me see you like this, scared and vulnerable and still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Because you care more about Kayleigh's safety than your own pride. Because you're brave enough to try something that terrifies you if it means building something real."
Nicole tilted her head to look up at him, and the heat in her eyes made his blood run hot. "And what are we building?"
"A life," Slash said without hesitation. "A family. A future where you don't have to be afraid anymore. Where Kayleigh can just be a kid. Where you can both just... breathe."
"And if Brock?—"
"Will be handled," Slash interrupted firmly, his voice carrying a dark promise. "One way or another. But right now, I need you to focus on something else."
"What?"
"Learning how to let me take care of you." His arm tightened around her, pulling her more firmly against him. "You definitely need some stress release.”
Nicole's cheeks flushed deep pink, and she squirmed against him. "You mean spanking."
"I mean whatever helps you unwind." His voice dropped an octave.
"I..." Nicole trailed off, clearly flustered. Her face was burning red now. "I don't know. Maybe. God, this is embarrassing. I'm a grown woman talking about being spanked like a..."
"Like a little girl who needs her Daddy to take care of her?" Slash suggested. "Like someone who's been taking care of everyone else for so long that she needs someone to take care of her?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Exactly that. I am so embarrassed."
"Why is it embarrassing?"
"Because I'm supposed to be a strong, independent woman. Not someone who needs a man to tell her what to do. Not someone who gets wet thinking about—" She cut herself off, mortified.
But Slash had caught it, and his body responded immediately to the admission. "Finish that sentence."
"No."
"Nicole." Just her name, but with enough command that her breath stuttered.
"Not someone who gets wet thinking about being put over your knee," she whispered, then buried her face against his chest. "Oh God, I can't believe I just said that."
"You are a strong, independent woman," Slash said firmly, though his cock was now fully hard at her admission. "There's no shame in needing something that makes you feel cared for."
Nicole was quiet for a moment, processing. When she spoke again, her voice was small but curious. "Have you done this before? The whole... Daddy thing?"
"Not like this," Slash admitted. "I've played with power exchange, but never... never with someone who mattered this much. Never with someone I wanted to keep."
"And you want to keep me?" The vulnerability in her voice nearly broke him.
"Little girl," Slash said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her. "I've never wanted anything more in my life. You and Kayleigh... you're everything I didn't know I was looking for."
The simple honesty in his voice seemed to settle something in Nicole. She relaxed fully against him for the first time since he'd known her, her body soft and trusting in a way that made his chest tight with possessive tenderness.
"Okay, maybe I do need some stress relief," she whispered. "But... slow. I need slow."
His arms tightened around her, a silent vow. “Slow,” he agreed, his voice a gravelly promise against her hair. “We have all the time in the world.”
In one smooth, effortless motion, he stood, lifting her with him. She gasped, her arms instinctively looping around his neck as he carried her from the room, down the hall, up the stairs, and into the sanctuary of his officer’s apartment. It was a room that mirrored the man himself. Sparse, clean, dominated by a large, sturdy king bed, but with a surprising softness in the form of a thick, plush rug beside it and blackout curtains that promised deep, untroubled sleep.
