Page 61 of Cinderella and the Daddy
I could never leave this man.
He groans against my mouth, his control snapping like a broken chain. His hands are everywhere—tangling in my hair, gripping my hips, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"I thought you might not come back," he admits against my throat.
"I'm here."
"Why?"
The question hangs between us, loaded with implications I'm not sure I'm ready to voice. Because of Leo. Because this has become home in ways that terrify me. Because I'm carrying his child and haven't found the courage to tell him yet.
"Because I choose to be."
Something shifts in his expression, going soft and vulnerable for just a heartbeat before the predator takes over again. His hand slides up my body. It’s rough over my tender breasts, and then he’s wrapping it around my throat.
My chin goes up as I stare at him.
I’m not afraid.
Not anymore.
This man won’t hurt me.
But he will fuck me until I see stars.
He stares into my eyes. I stare right back at him. He doesn’t have to say it. I can see it. Feel it.
"Mine," he growls, the word vibrating through my bones.
"Yours," I breathe, because it's true and we both know it.
His mouth slams against mine.
The kiss is violent, desperate, all teeth and tongue and barely controlled hunger. I taste copper where his teeth scrape my lip, but I don't care. I bite him back, harder, marking him the way he's marking me. His grip on my throat tightens just enough to make me gasp. He swallows the sound like he's starving for it.
He walks me backward until I hit a table covered with bottles of water and tape. The edge of the table digs into my lower back, but the slight pain only adds to the fire building in my veins.
"I should punish you," he growls against my mouth, his free hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. "For leaving. For scaring me."
"Do it," I challenge, my voice hoarse from his grip on my throat. "Punish me."
His eyes flash with something feral and dangerous. The hand around my throat slides down to grip the front of my shirt. He rips it open with one violent motion.
"Luka," I gasp, but it's not a protest. It's encouragement.
He lifts me easily, setting me on a table with my legs spread around his waist. All I can focus on is the way he's looking at me—like I'm something he wants to devour completely.
I grip his shoulders as he reaches for the clasp of my bra. My breasts spill free. He makes a sound that's part growl, part prayer. His mouth finds my nipple and clamps down with his teeth. I arch into him, my head falling back as pleasure shoots through me like lightning.
"So fucking beautiful," he murmurs against my skin.
I push at the waistband of his shorts. I’m desperate to feel him. To have him inside me. But he catches my wrists, pinning them behind my back with one large hand.
"Not yet," he says, his voice rough with control. "You ran from me. Now you wait."
The denial makes me whimper, but I can see the satisfaction in his eyes. He likes having this power over me. He loves watching me fall apart at his touch while he maintains that iron discipline.
His free hand slides down my body, over my ribs, and across my stomach. I tense slightly when his palm rests there, wondering if somehow he can sense the secret I'm carrying. But he doesn't pause, just continues his torturous exploration until his fingers find the waistband of my jeans.
