Page 73 of Daddies Dark Desires (Forbidden Fantasies)
“You should never ask that, bug.” Daddy tightens his hold on me. “You assume the answer is yes. And you prepare for how to survive it.”
A noise jerks me half off the mattress, reminiscent of that night when someone had broken into our house. I had learned the next day that Dad hid a weapon in every room. Multiple, really. Something within hand at all times.
He signed me up for martial arts that week, too. It’s one thing to have a weapon. It’s another to know how to use it.
He taught me everything he knew after that.
I spread my hands out across the bed, but it doesn’t feel like the one I’ve been staying in. The blanket is heavier, denser instead of the soft duvet I’m used to.
But I’m also alone. Didn’t Trent carry me to bed? Hadn’t he been grumbling about something? Maybe my little undies and oversized t-shirt. In fact, this one might be his. I’ve pilfered one from each of them at this point.
I turn my head as I acclimatize, seeing Trent in a chair across the room. He’s half in the dark, but I can feel his gaze on me. It has me stretching long, arms over head as I kick down the blanket.
Legs sliding out, I extend the line of my body as I get out of bed, using my very old ballet lessons to make myself longer.
My steps are soft against his hardwood floors, and I run my fingers through my hair as I walk to him. He doesn’t move a muscle until I’m between his knees.
Trent lets out a heavy breath as I slide against his one hip and turn his face toward mine. He’s so solid. Hot. Thick muscle wrapped in cotton.
Dropping my mouth to his has all that muscle tightening. His hand finds the back of my thigh. Another squeezes my waist. He pulls me closer. Kisses me back.
This time, the swipe of his tongue isn’t tentative. It’s restrained.
But I’m in the air, elevated against his chest as he stands with me in his grip.
I tighten my hold on his shoulders, fingers knotting in his hair. Trent is pulling back, but I won’t let him. Not yet. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth, biting him gently.
He groans, and it breaks us apart only barely. Pivoting, he’s pressing me into the wall, all of him against all of me. Trent makes me feel tiny.
I’m anything but.
But oh god. I shift and feel what he’s packing, hard against me. Cradled in the crook of my hip.
I want to get my hands on it. On him.
No clothes. Just skin and hair and heat.
It’s only a heartbeat before his mouth crushes back against mine, wrecking my mouth. His hard planes fit against my soft curves. Can he feel that?
Does it do the same things to him that it does to me?
Fuck, his hands are trembling as he caresses the side of my neck, cupping the back of my head. His breathing is as labored as mine.
And he touches me with such care. It wrenches my heart toward softer feelings.
“Say stop.” He practically growls the demand at me.
I reach up and drag another kiss out of him. I have no intention to stop.
Not when I’m so close to what I want.
Trent rolls his hips against mine before he resurfaces. “If you’re not careful…”
The implied threat lights me up. “What? You’re going to break me, Daddy?”
27
TRENT
