14. Ari #2
My hands found the edges of his shirt, fingers curling in the fabric like I could hold on tighter that way. The kiss deepened on instinct. No roadmap. No hesitation. Just heat and want and something that had been sitting between us too long.
He held me like I was something precious, something he wanted to care for.
And God, I wanted that.
Wanted him .
Daddy’s mouth moved against mine like he’d been holding back for years and finally gave himself permission to feel.
Slow at first, then deeper, surer. His thumb brushed under my jaw, coaxing me to tilt my head just a little more, like he knew exactly how to get the kind of kiss that melted a person from the inside out.
Every thought dropped out of my head, one by one, until there was only this—his mouth, his hands, the way he kissed like he had something to prove and something to protect all at once.
His fingers tightened just slightly at the back of my neck. Possessive yet careful.
I made a sound I didn’t mean to, low and desperate against his lips.
That only made him kiss me harder.
My chest slammed against his with every shaky breath. His body was all heat and solid muscle, steady against mine even while everything in me tilted sideways. I clung to his shirt like it could anchor me.
Then his palm slid up, fingers threading through my hair, cradling my head. His other hand moved down, curling around my waist, pulling me in. Close enough to feel everything—his heart pounding, the restraint in his grip, the way he held back even when I pressed forward.
He pulled back half a breath—just enough to whisper into the space between us. “Tell me to stop.”
“Don’t you dare.”
His forehead rested against mine. For a second, we just stood there breathing each other in, everything too big to name tightening between us.
My lips brushed his again. Light. Questioning.
Daddy answered by tilting my face up, his thumb running along the curve of my cheek. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”
I smiled, heart thudding. “Good. Let’s die together.”
He huffed a breath—half laugh, half groan—then kissed me like he couldn’t stop himself. Mouth slanting over mine with more heat this time. More want. His tongue teased at the seam of my lips, and I opened for him like I’d been waiting all my life to get kissed like this—like it meant something.
It did.
Every inch of me knew it.
And when his thumb swept across my lower lip before dipping down to trace along the edge of my throat, I had to remind myself to breathe.
His hand tightened at the back of my neck, holding me right where he wanted me. A low sound rumbled in his chest—deep, rough, barely controlled—and I felt it like a pulse against my ribs.
Then his hips shifted.
And I felt him.
Hard through his jeans. Pressed to me like he couldn’t help it anymore.
My whole body lit up.
Heat shot down my spine, curling low and tight in my gut.
Every inch of me flushed hot, blood rushing south so fast it made my knees feel like they were made of rubber.
My dick throbbed, pushing up against the front of my shorts, aching with how badly I wanted him to touch me. See me. Want me like this.
God, he did.
I didn’t need words. I could feel it in every part of him—his breath, his grip, the way his mouth claimed mine like he’d die if he stopped.
I pressed closer. Rubbed against him just once, slow and deliberate. The contact punched a growl from his throat and made his hand clamp tighter on my waist.
He broke the kiss for half a second, lips hovering above mine, eyes dark and glassy. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
“Pretty sure I do.”
His fingers slid up my side, rough and reverent, like he was memorizing me through the thin cotton of my T-shirt, like he wanted to shape the moment, shape me , into something that belonged right there with him.
Then his mouth dragged along my jaw, down to the place just beneath my ear.
He kissed me there, open-mouthed and hot, and I swear I forgot my own name.
I gasped—couldn’t stop it—and perhaps it was the sound that made him shudder against me.
“You feel that?” His voice was a whisper, ragged and dangerous.
“Yeah,” I breathed. “I feel all of you.”
And I wanted more. Every bit he’d give me.
And then finally...
Finally, something in me whispered, breaking apart like I’d been holding it inside too long. Every crush, every wrong choice, every boyfriend who didn’t get it, who couldn’t get it—I would’ve thrown all of them into the sun for this one perfect, aching second.
His thumb dragged against the corner of my mouth. A hum broke loose in my throat, and before I could stop myself, the word escaped, too low and wrecked: “Be my Daddy?”
Not the kind of daddy who fixed scraped knees or sat in folding chairs at school plays.
The kind I wanted to keep. To belong to. Not just some boyfriend—I wanted him . Friend. Lover. Partner. All of it, wrapped up in that word.
Daddy froze for half a second, just enough for me to taste hesitation on his lips. Then he kissed me harder like he knew exactly what I meant, like he’d been waiting for permission, waiting for that name to break out of me.
Thought I’d never breathe again.
Didn’t care.
Could’ve stayed there all night, tangled up in him, tasting safety and danger at the same time, both curling hot beneath my skin in the best kind of way.
But then—I felt it. That flicker in him. The start of a pullback, like he was trying to cage everything he just let loose.
“This isn’t fair to you,” he said, voice shot through with something thick and rough, like honey over gravel.
Fair?
What the hell did fair have to do with this ?