Page 36 of Daddy's Christmas Obsession
I turn to face him, suddenly certain. All the morning's confusion crystallizes into clarity as I stand here, alone with him in his domain, deep in the woods where no one could hear me even if I screamed.
"Yes." My voice comes out steadier than expected. "I want to explore this... whatever this is between us."
His expression doesn't change, but satisfaction, hunger, triumph, everything flares in his eyes. He steps closer, and I can tell he's done waiting.
"Are you certain?" He stops close enough that I feel heat radiating from his body.
I should be intimidated by the intensity in his gaze. Instead, power flows through me, knowing I affect this controlled man as strongly as he affects me. For the first time in my life, I'm choosing what I want over what I should want.
"I'm certain. I'm tired of pretending I don't feel this."
His hand cups my cheek, touch gentle despite the barely restrained strength I sense in him. "Such a brilliant mind. Such honesty. Do you have any idea how rare that combination is? How valuable?"
Before I can respond, his thumb traces my lower lip, echoing last night's touch. But this time there's no pretense of comfort, no facade of mentorship. Pure seduction, and we both know it.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he says, voice dropping to that register that makes my knees weak. "Unless you tell me to stop."
Command lurks beneath the apparent choice. This is Victor's true nature—dominant, controlling, accustomed to getting what he wants. The forbidden thrill races through me. He's my ex'sfather, old enough to be my father, and I've never wanted anyone more.
I don't tell him to stop. Couldn't if I wanted to, voice trapped somewhere in my chest as he leans down.
"Last chance to change your mind, beautiful girl."
In answer, I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. His arms come around me immediately—one hand sliding into my hair to angle my head exactly how he wants it, the other pulling me against the hard plane of his chest as the kiss deepens.
Everything changes.
Chapter eleven
Victor
The moment Kyra's lips press against mine, her body surrendering as she closes that final distance between us, triumph floods through me. Three years of waiting. Three years of watching my son fumble what should have been mine. Three years of careful planning—all leading to this moment as she gives herself to me willingly.
I slide my hand into her hair, gripping just tight enough to control the angle while my other arm circles her waist, pulling her flush against me. She gasps against my mouth, and I deepen the kiss, claiming her with deliberate possession.
She is everything I've fantasized about since that summer garden party. Better than I imagined during the countless nights I've lain awake, planning exactly how I would break down her resistance.
When she trembles against me, I pull back to study her face. The evidence of her desire feeds my own.
"Stop thinking," I murmur, my thumb tracing the elegant line of her jaw. Her skin is softer than I anticipated, warmer, more alive. "Let yourself feel what you want."
"I don't know what I want," she whispers, but it's a final, token protest. Her body has already betrayed her—she's leaning into my touch, pulse hammering beneath my fingertips.
"Yes, you do." I let my breath ghost across her ear, satisfied when she shivers. "You want to be desired by a man who sees your worth. You want passion that matches your brilliance. You want to stop apologizing for being extraordinary."
Her breath catches. "Victor."
"You want me," I state with absolute certainty, lowering my voice to that register I've noticed affects her most. "The same way I've wanted you since the moment I saw you. The same way you wanted me last night when you touched yourself thinking about me."
Her eyes widen in shock, that beautiful flush spreading down her neck to her chest. "You—"
"I know exactly what you were doing, Kyra." I tighten my grip in her hair slightly, forcing her to maintain eye contact. "I heard my name on your lips when you came. And it was the most beautiful sound I've ever heard."
For a heartbeat, she's perfectly still, mortification warring with desire. "Yes," she breathes. The guilt fades for a moment. Relief.
I claim her mouth again, harder this time, my control slipping as I taste her submission. She yields beautifully, opening for me with a soft moan that sends fire through my veins. Her hands fist in my shirt, not pushing away but pulling closer, desperate for more contact.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," I growl against her mouth. "How many nights I've imagined you exactly like this—trembling for me, wanting me, begging me to take you."
