Page 39 of Daddy's Addiction

Sitting on the edge of my bed, he cradled me in his arms while he patted me dry, then maneuvered to lay me on my stomach while he straddled my back and gently brushed out the knots in my damp hair. Then he placed cream on the bite marks of my skin.

His hard length brushed against me with each movement, and while I wouldn’t have minded if he had slid back inside me again, I really wouldn’t have been an active participant either. My body was far too tired and achy to be active.

He showered me in appreciative kisses, telling me, “You’re such a good girl for Daddy. You’re all nice and clean now, little girl.”

Then he rolled onto his side, covering us with the obnoxious frilly pink comforter that just so happens to be growing on me while throwing a protective arm over me, holding me in place.

“Good night, little girl,” he whispered into the room.

* * *

Opening my eyes, I glance at the nightstand clock and internally groan when I realize it’s almost noon, surprised that Tommy let me sleep in so late.

Stretching my body, I grimace at the feeling of being bruised. Even my scalp hasn’t remained unscathed this time, but I can’t bring myself to deny I enjoyed it. As twisted, reckless, and forbidden as it was, it was also something so euphoric it was catalytic.

Sounds of angry, raised voices float up from downstairs and I tilt my head to listen to the familiarity behind them.

Surely that’s not Mr. Marino? He said he would be away for six weeks. It’s only been a few.

I throw my legs out of bed and have to grip the nightstand when my head feels woozy and my legs threaten to buckle. I take a deep breath and give myself a minute to regain control of my wayward body.

Casting my eyes around the room, I locate my leggings and T-shirt, then slip them on. I pull on my hoodie to cover the bite marks littering my skin, then throw my hair up into a messy bun.

With a knot in my stomach and a feeling of dread, I reluctantly open my bedroom door and make my way downstairs.

Tommy

I left Jade to sleep in this morning. After last night, her body must be completely drained. The feeling of control over her body, even her orgasm, was sensational and something I can’t wait to delve into further with her.

Instead of taking her breakfast in bed, I opted to make her brunch. Setting the breakfast table myself, I realize it’s another first for me.

All for the little girl lying in the fluffy pink sheets upstairs. My heart pangs at the thought of how dependent we are on one another. I know it’s not healthy, but I refuse to acknowledge it.

My phone vibrates, and I glance down at the screen, noting it’s security. While flipping the bacon, I answer. “Sir, I’m just informing you your father is on his way up. He asked for me to call ahead to make sure you’re decent.”

Confusion swirls in my head, my father? He should be away right now.

“Okay,” I mumble, ending the call as I try to figure out why my father would have cut his business trip short. And to ask for me to be decent? Well, that’s new. Although to be fair, he’s probably found me in so many unfortunate positions over the years it’s probably given him nightmares.

The front door opens, so I flick the gas off and move the pan off the stove.

“My office,” my father shouts from inside the foyer, making my shoulders harden with rage at his claiming of my office. Like he fucking owns the property.

Slamming down the spatula, I follow his footsteps. Annoyed as fuck that, yet again, he’s already ruining what was going to be an amazing day.

I ignore Rafael standing outside my office, a cocky smirk on his face I’m ready to wipe off.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing storming into my fucking house like this?” I slam the door behind me for emphasis.

“Your house? Since when?” he scolds.

I inhale deeply, then slowly exhale through my nose. “I think I’ve earned it, playing my part so you can have Zenya’s family business,” I snipe back with a knowing glare.

It’s the only fucking reason I agreed to marry Zenya, so I could have my own property and a lump sum, enabling me to disconnect from the very people that helped break me.

He at least sits in the visitor’s chair, allowing me to sit in my own, where I fucking belong. My fists clench below my desk. The urge to take a hit of something to calm my unraveling nerves and lack of control in this situation burns under my skin. “What brings you back, Father?” I spit, unable to hide the venom behind my tone.

“Jade.”

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