Page 73 of Tamed

I wasn’t supposed to be letting her get under my skin more than she already was.

What I’d intended was to get her naked, get her on her knees, then get her to suck me off. And after that, teach her a few lessons with pain as her reward.

Gentleness, kindness… I’d never had them to give, never thought I’d have either the capacity or the inclination. Yet when she’d been afraid — not of me, I knew that — but of her own desires and of what being mine meant, of not being enough…I hadn’t been able to let that stand.

A little fear never did anyone any harm, but I didn’t like her being afraid. I’d tried that with her back in Arcadia and it hadn’t worked, anyway. I couldn’t do it again. All that was left now was to give her something that was foreign to me — reassurance, softness. Tenderness.

I’d never been those things with anyone and by now it was reflex to be hard. To only be strong. Only merciless, pitiless.

But Isabel needed more than that from me and since I’d taken on the role of being her daddy willingly, I had to step up. I didn’t want to break her, and I didn’t want to hurt her. And I couldn’t refuse to give her what she needed now.

So, I’d done the opposite of what I’d intended. Instead of treating her to a few lessons in obedience, I’d found myself stroking her cheek and calming her fears instead. And the thing that had surprised me was that apparently, I had the ability to gentle

The other surprising thing was that she hadn’t fought me. She’d softened, become vulnerable, opening up to me in a way she never had before, and… Fuck. I liked her spit and her fire, but this new softness was something else. It was sweet, heady. It reminded me of those nights at my kitchen table, when she’d lean over the chessboard, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. Even then she’d wanted to fight me, beat me, and when she eventually decided on her move, she’d do it then look up at me, giving me that fucking wonderful, triumphant smile of hers. As if she’d won already.

Those evenings with her had been the closest to happiness I’d ever come.

You want that again.

The thought stole through me, a realization that tightened like a noose. Happiness wasn’t something I ever thought about, nor peace or contentment. Ambition and fury had always been what had driven me. But now, sitting here with Isabel in my lap, I couldn’t stop thinking about those long-ago moments of peace and contentment, the simple pleasure of being in the here and now with her and only with her. Because only she’d ever been able to give that to me.

Yes, fuck, I did want that again. I wanted to feel that again. And why the fuck shouldn’t I? My life with Old Nick had been full of darkness and the constant threat of violence, and my life now was full of sharp, cold, glittering edges. Why couldn’t I have something soft? Something warm and giving? Something that was sweet and only for me?

I could have Isabel, her softness and heat. Her vulnerability. Her trust. Her complete surrender. I’d worked hard enough for it, so why not? Why the fuck not?

She rested against me, her naked body warm and silky, the tension slowly draining out of her, and I could feel it drain out of me too.

I took another sip of whisky and bent my head again, letting her take it from my mouth, feeling her shiver as I followed it up with another hot kiss, tasting her sweetness along with the alcohol. And this time I went slow and deep, exploring her lazily, trying sensuality out for size since there was no rush.

She melted against me, her red hair over my shoulder, her head tipped back to give me even greater access, a soft moan vibrating in her throat as I licked and nipped at her soft mouth, taking everything even deeper, even hotter.

That sound of that moan combined with the press of her ass against my hardening cock stoked my hunger. The resistance that had held her so tense before had gone entirely, which meant that now was the perfect time to prove to her how completely she was mine.

I lifted my head, put the scotch down on the floor, then I eased her onto the couch on her back and pinned her beneath me, pressing her down into the leather of the cushions.

She was warm, her thighs spread so I could lie between them, her pussy pressed to the aching length of my cock. I could feel her heat even through the denim and I could smell her arousal. It got me even harder.

Her eyes were very dark, all the green lost, and her pretty face was flushed. The pulse at the base of her throat was racing and I bent to taste it, feeling it flutter against my tongue as I licked her then sucked gently.

“Are you mine, little girl?” I murmured against her throat. “Are you mine completely?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Yes, Daddy.”

Christ, the more she said that word, the more I liked it. The more I wanted to hear it. It settled something tense inside me, eased a tightness I hadn’t known was there.

How can you accept this so easily? When you know how wrong it is?

Was it wrong, though? She wanted this too and maybe she needed it, the way I was beginning to think I needed it. She wasn’t a child anymore and if she was adult enough to be naked beneath me, she was adult enough to make her own choices. Choices I had to respect. I had to stop telling her she didn’t know any better, that she was too young, too inexperienced. Isabel Fox knew her own mind and I had to respect that.

She squirmed against me, rubbing her hot little pussy against the zipper of my jeans, making me grit my teeth against the urge to tear my clothes off and sink my cock into her right then and there. But there would be plenty of time for that, later. Right now, I wanted to test how far her surrender went.

I shifted, grabbing her arms, and lifting them up and over her head, crossing her wrists and pinning them down on the cushions with one hand. Then with the other, I gripped her chin, forcing her gaze to meet mine. “If you’re mine, I want you to prove it. I know you’ve got a strong will. I know you can hold out because you proved that to me in Arcadia. But what I’m curious about now, Isabel, is how quickly can you give in?”

She trembled as I pressed her crossed wrists more firmly into the cushions, her back arching in response, the hard tips of her breasts lifting and pressing against my chest.

“Give in?” She sounded breathless. “What do you mean?”

Letting go of her chin, I slid my free hand down over her stomach and between her thighs, my fingers sliding over the slick folds of her pussy, curling in to press against her clit. She was deliciously wet and slippery, shuddering and jerking in my grip, her mouth opening in a soundless gasp as I stroked her.

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