Page 45 of Bratva Bride
"Will you—"
The question lodged in my throat. Too big. Too vulnerable. Asking would change everything, would make this real, would admit that I needed something I'd been taught was weakness.
But Ivan waited. Patient. Steady. Like he had all the time in the world for me to be brave.
"Will you be my Daddy Dom?"
The words came out whispered, barely audible, but they landed between us like atoms splitting. Like tectonic plates shifting. Like the moment before lightning strikes when the air goes electric.
Ivan moved then, slow enough that I could stop him if I needed to, and his arms came around me. Not sexual. Not demanding. Just solid and safe and exactly what I needed. I pressed my face into his chest, breathed in his scent—soap and safety and something uniquely Ivan—while his hand stroked my hair with careful gentleness.
"I'll be whatever you need me to be, kotyonok." The Russian endearment rumbled through his chest into mine. "Your husband. Your protector. Your Daddy. Whatever helps you heal."
Kotyonok. Kitten. It made me feel precious. Like I deserved gentleness.
I pulled back enough to look up at him, and his face had softened into something I'd never seen before. The Ice King completely melted, replaced by a man who looked at me like I was worth saving.
"I need a Daddy," I whispered, giving him the truth he'd been waiting for. "I need someone to make decisions when I can't. To tell me I'm good when I only feel broken. To let me be small without thinking I'm weak. To give me the childhood I never had."
His hand came up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing away a tear I hadn't noticed falling.
"Then I'm your Daddy." Simple. Absolute. Like marriage vows but more binding. "We'll figure this out together. Learn what you need. Build the dynamic that works for you. No rush. No pressure. Just—"
"Us?" I offered, echoing his word from this morning.
A smile transformed his face—rare, genuine, devastating in its complete warmth. The kind of smile that made me understand why people called him the Ice King. Not because he was cold, but because when he melted for you, the transformation was absolute.
"Yes, malyshka. Just us."
Malyshka. Little one. Another pet name, this one making my chest tight with recognition. This was real. I was his Little. He was my Daddy. We were choosing this together.
"There's an elephant in my bag," I said, needing to lighten the moment before I started crying again. "His name is Peanut."
"Peanut is a good name for an elephant." No mockery. No condescension. Just acceptance. "Would you like to introduce me?"
I nodded, suddenly shy. This was different from confessing I was a Little. This was actually being Little in front of him. Letting him see me vulnerable and small and needing comfort from a stuffed animal.
But Ivan just waited, patient as always, while I retrieved Peanut from the bag. The elephant looked even softer in thegolden light, his gray velvet catching the sunset like he was made of evening clouds.
"This is Peanut," I said, holding him carefully. "He helped me today. When I was crying. Eva gave him to me to hold and he—he made me feel safer."
"Then Peanut is very important," Ivan said seriously, like we were discussing nuclear codes instead of a stuffed elephant. "He should have a proper place here. Would you like him in your room? Or would you prefer him somewhere else?"
Your room. Not the guest room. The shift made my stomach flutter.
"Maybe—" I hesitated, then forced myself to ask for what I wanted. "Maybe he could stay in the living room? On the sofa? So he's there when I need him?"
"Of course." Ivan took my hand—the one not holding Peanut—and led me to the sofa. "Where would he be most comfortable?"
We spent the next few minutes seriously discussing Peanut's placement, and something in my chest loosened with each moment that Ivan treated this as important. As valid. As worth his time and consideration.
This was really happening. I was a Little. Ivan was my Daddy. And somehow, impossibly, that was okay.
Better than okay.
It was exactly what we both needed.
Chapter 9
