Page 15 of Daddy's Princess (Scandalous Daddies Club 3)

FORD

Getting caught is never good, especially when you’re a celebrity. When her friend interrupted us, I immediately felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Only twenty minutes,” I stalk toward her quietly.

She clutches my shirt to her chest as her cheeks turn a delicious shade of pink. I know she thought no one was looking when she smelled my shirt, but I saw. It was fucking adorable.

I tap my finger against my lips. “What could we do in twenty minutes?”

Ivy backs up toward her workstation until she bumps into it, smiling nervously. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

I’ve been imagining what it would be like when Ivy and I were alone, but twenty minutes isn’t enough time.

My hand skims down her arm, I pluck my shirt from her hand and pull it back on. “Get dressed. We’re going back to my room. I don’t want to be interrupted again.”

She scrambles to get her shirt off the floor and put it back on before taking one final look around the room. There are a few pieces left on the floor, but I notice her hesitation. All she wants is an excuse.

“Leave it.” I hold out my hand, which she takes automatically. “Let’s go.”

As much as I want to pull her into every dark corner we pass, I resist. The hotel is full of guests and employees. I don’t want to risk being seen or having pictures of us sold to the highest bidder.

Paparazzi are ruthless. They’ll do anything for the perfect shot. I should know. My body literally bears the scars of their endless pursuits.

It pains me, but I drop her hand temporarily until we get to the elevator. From the corner of my eye, I notice the look of hurt that transforms her features quickly before it’s gone.

This is for your protection, I tell her silently. Please trust me.

Once we step foot inside the elevator, I press her into the nearest corner, sealing my mouth against the delicate skin of her neck. The beast inside me wants to mark her, letting the entire world know this woman belongs to me, but I stop.

When I pull back, we’re both gasping for air and stare at each other until the elevator stops. It took every bit of self-control not to hit the emergency stop and take her right here, but I want her all to myself. The only place I can truly appreciate a body like hers is in the privacy of my hotel room.

The elevator jolts to a stop and the doors slide open, bringing me back to the present. I step out first, glancing behind me to ensure she follows. We walk swiftly down the hallway until we’re at the door to my room.

I look down and see the hesitation and nerves in her eyes, but I understand all of those feelings.

“Ivy, if you don’t want this, speak now or forever hold your peace,” I warn her.

“Okay,” she says with a shaky breath.

“No, princess. I want you to say the words. The moment we step through that door, you know what’s going to happen. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” she says with a little more conviction. “I want this. I want you.”

Without further delay, I unlock the door, push it open, and drag her inside.

My hands work frantically to strip her bare, tearing her t-shirt and her panties to shreds within moments of stepping through the door. My mouth salivates at the sight of her gloriously naked body standing in front of me.

“Don’t be shy, Princess. I won’t hurt you.”

“I know.” She lifts her chin in defiance. “But you’re overdressed.”

I smirk at her sass. I happily oblige her and quickly undress. Her eyes rake over my body, stopping just below my waist. I’m a proud man, and I’d like to think she’s enthralled with what’s between my legs, but I know better.

She steps forward, tracing her fingers along the slightly faded pink scar on my thigh. My skin tingles at her touch, but I can’t stop myself from turning my head away in shame.

Everyone knows what happened to me. It was all over the news, sensational headlines splashed across the tabloids at every newsstand for months.

But I can’t stand to see the look of pity in her eyes. Not now, maybe not ever.

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