Page 23 of Daddy's Addiction

Watching that piece of shit’s eyes land on my girl had me crazed to the point of insanity. I wanted to tear his limbs from his body and rip out his insides while he pleaded for mercy. But I didn’t want to scare my girl. I want to be her savior, not her monster. As I kneel before her in his blood, I can’t help but drag the tips of my fingers through it, relishing in the warmth. Knowing I protected her, saved her. Became her daddy.

Jade watches me closely as I lift my fingers to show her his blood and how merciful I can be for her. Her pupils dilate, and I’m unsure if it’s fear in her eyes or something else. Something more. I’ve no time to analyze it, as I’m worried she’s going to withdraw from me when she’s just now coming around to the idea of us.

Instead, I trail my fingers up her thighs, smearing blood in their wake. Fuck me, she looks incredible. Bloodied and begging for me. Dropping my head, I kiss her legs with a tenderness I don’t feel, then give her a languorous lick from the bottom of her pussy hole to the top. I groan when I swipe my tongue down again, curling it into her hole before dragging it all the way back up her slit.

“Oh, Jesus,” she pants. Her knuckles whiten as she clings to her dress. “More. Please, more,” she begs, pushing her ass up. My cock throbs so hard it drips precum down my leg, soaking through my boxers and, no doubt, my pants, forcing a growl of appreciation to leave me. Fuck me, she’s incredible.

I create aVwith my fingers and separate her small wet folds, allowing me to nuzzle into her little pussy. My tongue thrashes up and down her slit, like a man possessed, the blood on her thighs makes me feral, and when she grinds against my face, her thighs try to close, but the hand gripping her thigh tightens, and she squeaks in pain at my hold. Closing my eyes, I will my fingers to press so deep into her skin that the marks I leave behind remain permanent. I want them embedded in her like she’s embedded in me.

My tongue works down toward her ass, and I smile when I feel her tense. “Mmm, Daddy wants to lick your innocent ass too, little girl.” A groan leaves her as if she’s going to fight me. I don’t give her a chance. When my tongue swirls around her puckered hole and my fingers circle her clit, her legs quiver, making me preen in delight before paying attention to her needy clit, the bud swollen for attention. I suck it into my mouth. “Daddy, I... I’m going to...” My eyes roll closed at her words, her whole body coiling tight as she throws her head back while I continue to eat her pussy like a man possessed.

When her body finally floats down from the euphoria of my touch, she lifts her head to watch me. Our gazes lock, my body freezes, and we hold one another hostage—an unspoken conversation takes place when I press my lips tenderly to the blood on her thighs.

Mine.

And I’ll kill anyone that tries to look at her.

“Yours,” she breathes out as if hearing my thoughts.

ChapterEleven

Tommy

When I brought her to the restaurant, I wasn’t expecting my cock to get hard over her simply eating her meal. She pushes another piece of broccoli into her mouth, and I groan when her lips clamp down. Fuck, how does she make eating vegetables look so damn seductive?

My eyes haven’t left hers, trying to get a gauge on her lack of response toward me killing someone today, then tongue fucking her while coating her thighs in his blood. But I find no clue as to how she feels about it, and it unnerves me. Does she see me differently now?

“Did I scare you when I put a bullet in his head?” I ask, staring boldly at her. I study her reaction as she lowers her fork.

Our gazes lock. “No,” she replies, and I lift my eyebrow in surprise. “I saw my father kill people before.” She shrugs.

I nod in understanding. Her father was a capo for our don, Lorenzo, and when he was killed, he gifted her mother to me. No doubt, my father had filled his head with stories about how his son refused to marry a good Mafia girl, and when they threatened to cut off all my money along with my balls, I was left with no choice but to marry the widow I’d barely even heard of.

It was more of a business move than anything else. It allowed Zenya to keep her dead husband’s money, then was passed over to me.

Little did they know she had addictions far greater than mine. Or maybe they did, and she was the ultimate punishment. Two miserable junkies together, self-destructing and rejecting the Mafia life, hoping along the way for an heir to succeed where they didn’t.

Zenya didn’t last a year before she was found with a needle in her arm and some ridiculous love note claiming to want to join the love of her life. She never considered the daughter banished to boarding school like an inconvenience, and shamefully, neither did I. I only knew about her existence after Zenya’s death when my father informed me she had a daughter. To say I was pissed was an understatement. Not only did I have to marry a widow, but she had already birthed a child and now I was being left in charge of one. Not even my own flesh and blood. I had no intentions of parenting someone else’s child, and I walked out of his office telling him so while he shook his head in shame.

Perhaps if they had allowed me to marry Justine, they would have had a herd of children.

I felt gratification at the fact that Zenya had essentially committed suicide. The confines had been broken and I was free. If only my addictions were as easy to break.

I take a swig of my water, refusing to drink in Jade’s presence, not when I know one will not be enough, and I refuse to endanger her with my lack of control. Not when she needs someone to protect her.

Not when she needs me.

Jade

I place my knife and fork together while eyeing Tommy carefully. He’s been quiet, as though deep in thought, and I can’t help but wonder if he regrets what we’ve done, nerves swim in my stomach. Never could I have imagined how incredible it would feel for someone to eat my pussy. The blood on my thighs is an indicator of the lengths Tommy is prepared to go to keep me safe. But why do I get this dreaded feeling he’s regretting it?

Have I been so naive as to think someone cares for me? Wants me?

“Stop it.”

I lift my eyes to meet his. “Whatever thought put that worrying look on your face, stop thinking about it.”

His lips tip up into an unusual smile, and I mirror it. The air is thick between us as people move around the restaurant. Conversations take place, but our focus is only on one another and they become white noise.

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