Page 15 of Sniper Daddy
I hold her close while she comes down, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. My cock’s so hard it hurts, but I don’t move to take care of myself. This was for her. Only for her.
“You did so good,” I murmur, pressing another kiss to her temple. “So beautiful. I could watch you come like that every day for the rest of my life.”
She looks up at me, eyes soft and dazed. “Boyd… that was…”
I kiss her again, slow and sweet. “We have time. I’m not going anywhere. And I’m going to take care of you, Piper. Always. You never have to run again. Not from anything. Not while I’m here.”
She rests her head against my chest, breathing still a little shaky. The mountain’s quiet around us, the birds still singing inthe trees. The sun warms our skin. I hold her close, one hand stroking her back, the other still gently between her thighs, not ready to let go yet.
I’ve wanted her for weeks. Now that I’ve felt her come apart under my hands, I know one thing for certain.
She’s mine.
And I’ll spend every day making sure she knows it.
TEN
PIPER
The walk back to the cabin feels different now. Every step Boyd takes with me in his arms sends little aftershocks of pleasure through my body. I can still feel the ghost of his fingers between my thighs, the way he touched me like I was something precious and filthy at the same time. My face is warm, and not just from the sun. I keep my head tucked against his neck, breathing in the clean scent of him—pine, soap, and something uniquely Boyd that makes my stomach flutter.
I want more.
I want his hands and his mouth all over me. I want him to lay me down in that big bed and show me exactly how much he wants me. The thought should scare me. Instead it makes heat pool low in my belly again, even though I just came harder than I ever have in my life.
But underneath the desire, doubt whispers loud and ugly.
How could a man like Boyd really want me forever?
I’m broken. Running. Carrying secrets that could destroy everything he’s built here. How long until he sees that and changes his mind? How long until the protective instinct fades and he realizes I’m more trouble than I’m worth?
I push the thoughts down as hard as I can. Right now I just want to feel. I want to believe, even if only for a little while, that this strong, quiet man could actually keep me.
Boyd carries me straight through the cabin and into the bathroom. He sets me gently on the closed toilet lid and turns on the shower, adjusting the temperature until steam starts to rise. Normally he leaves me to wash myself. He’s always respected my privacy, stepping out and closing the door. But today I don’t want privacy.
I catch his wrist before he can step back.
“Stay,” I whisper. “Help me. Please.”
His eyes darken. He studies my face for a long moment, like he’s making sure I mean it. Then he nods once.
He undresses me slowly, carefully peeling away the sweater and sweatpants. His hands are gentle on my bruised skin, but his gaze is hungry. When I’m completely bare, he strips off his own clothes. I’ve seen him shirtless before, but never like this. Never with intent. He’s all hard muscle and quiet strength, scars marking stories I haven’t heard yet. His cock is thick and already hard, curving up toward his stomach. The sight makes my mouth go dry.
He helps me into the shower, holding most of my weight so I don’t slip on my cast, making sure not to get it wet. The warm water feels heavenly on my skin. Boyd keeps one arm around my waist and reaches for the soap with the other. He washes mewith slow, reverent strokes. Starting at my shoulders, down my arms, across my back. His hands glide over my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples until they tighten. I lean into him, letting my head fall back against his chest.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against my ear. “Every inch of you. I’ve wanted to touch you like this for weeks. Wanted to take care of you. Wanted to make you feel good.”
His hand slides lower, between my legs again. I’m still sensitive from earlier, but I open for him anyway. Two thick fingers slide inside me easily. I moan, hips rocking against his hand.
“That’s it,” he says, voice low and rough. “Let me make you come again, baby girl. Daddy’s right here. I’m always going to be right here.”
“Daddy,” I moan out.
He curls his fingers, stroking that perfect spot inside me while his thumb circles my clit. The steam, the warm water, his hard body behind me. I come again with a broken cry, clenching around his fingers as pleasure rolls through me in deep waves.
Boyd holds me through it, kissing my neck, murmuring soft praise. When I stop shaking, he washes the rest of me gently, then washes himself. He turns off the water and wraps me in a big, fluffy towel before carrying me back to the bed.
He dries me carefully, then pulls one of his soft t-shirts over my head. It smells like him. I love it.
