Page 60 of Vance

“Good night.”

Tomorrow. The thought comes quietly, but with certainty. Tomorrow, I’ll tell him.

I’ll tell him when the light is better. When I’m braver. When I’ve had time to prepare myself for whatever I might see in his eyes when I finally say the words.

Gradually his breathing deepens, evening out as sleep overtakes him. I feel the moment his body finally relaxes, warm and solid and real, and my heart aches at the thought of how much I love him.

I stay awake, staring into the darkness, covering his hand with mine as I pray that tomorrow this will make me worthy of his love.

The soft light of morning filters through the penthouse windows when I wake. Sophia’s body is still pressed against mine. She’s tucked into me, her back to my chest, with the curve of her spine fitting into the hollow of my torso. She fits against me so perfectly, it’s as if we were carved from the same stone. I lie there for a long moment, watching the gentle expanse of her shoulder with each breath, a rhythmic peace that stands in stark contrast to the chaos that usually rules my life.

Burying my face in her hair, I inhale her crisp, fruity scent. My arm tightens around her waist, pulling her closer and eliminating any space between us. With her wrapped in my embrace, I can feel the rise and fall of her chest with every soft breath. She stirs, a soft sound escaping her, and I nuzzle deeper into her. My lips find the delicate skin behind her ear, the place that makes her shiver even in sleep. I trace the shell with my tongue, feeling her body respond as she wakes.

My thoughts flit to the memory of her pale face last night and her standing in the bathroom, as though she was holding herself together by sheer will. “Are you feeling better, sweetheart?” I whisper, my voice rough with sleep and the constant, gnawing hunger I have for her.

She tenses slightly. I feel it in her shoulders and the way her breathing hitches. “Yes.”

“Good.” I kiss the back of her neck, my lips tracing the length of her back, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin, as she melts into me. I linger on the knobs of her spine, pressing open-mouthed kisses to each one.

“We need to get up,” she insists. Her voice is breathy, affected by my mouth on her. “We have a board meeting this morning.”

“Something tells me they’ll wait.”

My hands roam over the silk of her nightgown, mapping her body with a familiarity that still feels like discovering her for the first time. Finding her full breasts, I cup them gently as I roll my thumbs over her nipples. They harden beneath the smooth fabric as she arches against me on a soft gasp. I pinch them gently, just enough to make her whimper, before soothing them with my palms.

I might not be able to give her poetry and soft words, the kind of devotion that comes without condition and darkness. I can’t erase who I am and what I’ve done to keep her. The possession and obsession that binds her to me will never be something pure. I can’t love her the way she deserves, but I can give her this. This I know how to do. This physical connection, this claiming and reclaiming, is the closest I can get.

My lips continue a path along her neck, sucking gently at the junction where her pulse beats, wild and fluttering. Teasing her skin with my teeth and tongue, I suck her flesh into my mouth, leaving my mark, as I knead at her soft breasts. Her ass, cradling my already hard cock through my boxer briefs, grinds against me.

“I need to be inside of you.” I kiss the words over her skin. “I need to feel you wrapped around me.”

“Daddy…”

I dust my palm from her breast to the flat plane of her stomach, pausing there to spread my palm wide as I imagine the life I want to plant there. Brushing over the silk covering her belly, I feel the potential of the future that will grow inside her. Sliding my hand lower, my fingers pressing between her thighs.

“Let me worship what I have the pleasure to call mine.”

Running my fingers over the silk, I brush them along the length of her pussy, feeling her heat and arousal as she whimpers at my touch. I inch the nightgown higher, letting my fingers glide over her bare skin. When they slide through the supple lips of her pussy, I’m pleased to find her slick with desire.

“Always so wet,” I growl into her ear, my cock throbbing against her back. “So ready for my cock. Eager for me to breed you, make you big and round with my child.”

“Daddy,” she gasps.

I circle her already swollen clit with deliberate, teasing strokes, keeping the pressure light. My other hand returns to her breast to pinch and roll her nipple, as I hold her on the edge. She writhes against me, her head falling back against my shoulder as sweet sounds fall out of her.

“That’s it,” I encourage with my lips on her jaw. “Let go. Come for Daddy. Show me how much you want me inside you.”

I increase the pressure, rubbing tight, insistent patterns over her clit as I give a gentle tug on her nipple. She cries out, her body convulsing and thighs clamping around my hand as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through her. Maintaining the rhythm, I draw out her orgasm.

She’s still high on euphoria when I slide my fingers lower, pushing two deep inside her. I curl them—slow and firm—against her G-spot. “Again,” I command. “Come for me again. All over my fingers like my good girl.”

“Oh God!”

“Daddy,” I correct, thrusting my fingers deep before setting a pace that matches the hammering of her heart. And mine. “You’re going to come for Daddy again. And when you do, I’m going to slide my cock into your tight little pussy and fuck you until you’re filled with so much of my seed that there’s no chance—no possibility—that you’re not carrying my child by tonight. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she breathes.

Her eagerness to be bred travels straight to my cock, and I groan against her neck as I work her harder. My fingers pumping in and out of her as my thumb rubs tight, demanding circles over her clit while I kiss and bite across her shoulders and back. High, keening, desperate sounds billow from her as she tightens around my fingers. Turning her head, she screams into her pillow as the second orgasm rips through her violently, soaking my hand in a gush of her release.