Chapter 25 - Kate
Idid not expect this after a long day of packing the last of the orders, ready for tomorrow’s shipment.
Grumpy Daddy sprawled on my bed like a forbidden gift, one wrist loosely bound in my robe sash and secured to the headboard like a sinful invitation.
Shirtless and tattoos on display, his golden skin catches the lamplight, the ridges of his chest muscles carved from shadow and temptation.
Dear God, the bulge in his pants, waiting for me.
He tilts his helmet because the thing is welded to his neck. Underneath, I sense his eyes tracking me like I’m the only prey he’ll ever want.
Exhaustion hummed through my body seconds earlier from packing boxes all weekend. The only thing that held me upright was the fantasy of a hot bath, candles, soft music, wine, and my Kindle. Vitality sparks in my muscles, giving me the boost I need.
“You’ve been so good this weekend, Glitter Bomb,” he drawls, voice low enough to prompt shivers. “Tonight, I’m yours. Do whatever you want to me.”
That’s an invitation for sin if I’ve ever heard one.
Heat floods every corner of my body, and my mouth becomes the Sahara.
I walk the perimeter of the bed, eyes slowly raking over every ridge of hard muscle, deciding which part of my sexy present to unwrap first. My confidence surges with every step as my predator pretends to be tame.
“Whatever I want?” I echo, playing with my lip, pretending to think it over. “That’s a dangerous thing to offer a girl with a glitter addiction and a villain kink.” I set my knee on the long edge of the mattress.
He chuckles, and my body aches with a different kind of pain. Desire to see his smile and his eyes. “Call it a home invasion spa service because afterward, I’m carrying you into the bath to soak those aching muscles and giving you the massage of your life.”
God, I love this man! He’s stimulating my follicle-releasing hormones.
“You’re offering yourself up as a sacrifice and letting me take control?” My pulse hammers as I climb onto the bed to inspect my tribute. “I ought to be good more often.”
I crawl over to him slowly, straddling his lap, relishing the sound of his breath catching.
My fingers ghost over the silk at his wrist, then trail down the smattering of hair on his forearm, over the inside of his elbow, along his strong biceps, stopping to circle his shoulder.
Muscle flexes at my touch, and I keep exploring down the rugged ridges of his pecs and abdomen.
His struggle to let me dominate rumbles in his throat. “I trust you.”
Trust. Debatable. I’ll take it, though, because I can’t get enough of him, and something tells me he can’t get his fill of me either.
“No rules?” Because I want to get my inner dominant on tonight, and I want to see his face.
Grumpy Daddy inhales sharply and jerks against his binding when I trail the line of dark hair that disappears beneath his waistband. “Blindfold. That’s my only stipulation.”
I shoot down the bite of rejection, swallowing it with the same determination of swallowing worse.
He gives me trust on a leash, and my book girlie should be thrilled when hand necklaces and bedazzled collars are her jam.
Tease and taste. Fun and pleasure. Except the mask reminds me I’m loving a shadow, a man who lets me have his body, but not all of him.
And damn him, my traitorous heart wants it all.
I shake it off with, “I like you like this. Tied up and Mine. At my mercy.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts, Glitter Bomb.” His voice drops a notch darker.
Oh, I plan on it. I’ve given up a lot of control for this man, only because I feel safe. The longer he lets this stretch out, the harder I dig my heels in. I’m not just here for a good time anymore.
My mouth brushes his neck as I whisper, “You can’t hide forever, Grumpy Daddy. One day, I’m going to see all of you. That’s my rule.” If I say it out loud, I’m not just playing fantasy anymore.
I drag my nails down his chest, getting off on the tremble rippling through him.
Good. I want him to feel how much power he’s given me, how much I crave the man under the armor.
His free hand crushes into a fist by his side.
Restraint isn’t a challenge, it’s a warning that he’ll resume control once I’m done.
I trail a kiss down his throat, tasting soap, warm skin, and his natural woody cinnamon flavor.
My hands wander lower as I lick my lips.
His thick arousal pulses against my pussy.
I don’t bother with undressing him. I want raw and in the moment. Him beneath me. I unbuckle his belt, tug his zipper down, and he lifts his hips enough for me to pull his pants down enough to free his cock.
“Hold still for me,” I tease, curling my hand around his length and giving him a slow, agonizing stroke.
“Yes, Glitter Bomb,” he croaks, his throat working.
I test him with a firmer pump, flicking my thumb over his slick head, and he groans, leaning his head back like I dismantle his armor bolt by bolt.
The sexy sound shoots right between my legs.
I reach down and shift aside my panties, letting his length slide against my wet flesh without taking him in. His hips involuntarily twitch for me.
I cluck my tongue. “Careful, Daddy. That felt like moving.”
His fist uncurls. “You’re going to pay for that, brat.”
“Maybe I want to,” I murmur into his neck.
When I sink over on him, no condom this time, we both groan, the stretch sharp and perfect.
He jolts up into me. “Protection?”
“Not tonight,” I whisper, giving him more of me, hoping it encourages good faith from him.
I roll my hips over his length, and he fists the sheets instead of my hips, knuckles white, letting me ride him at my pace. I don’t need to see his face to know that this is torture for him. Every sway of my body makes his neck muscles strain, and the power in it nearly undoes me.
“You’re trying to kill me, Glitter Bomb,” he rasps, sweat beading on his chest from his self-discipline.
“Then at least you’ll die happy.” I lick his throat. “I know I will.”
He breaks our contract and thrusts up instinctively, and I gasp, my nails biting into his shoulder. He doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t have to. I’ve got all the control in the world here. We find a rhythm, my slow, teasing grind, and his barely restrained pulses filling me with even more command of him.
“Please, baby, I can’t take it anymore,” he begs. “I need to come.”
The coil in me snaps, and I grip his shoulders and rock over him harder, bouncing on his cock and thighs.
“Fuck, baby, yes,” Grumpy Daddy encourages.
I come with a sharp cry, shuddering over him, and he finally breaks, lifting his free arm to grip my hips and drive up into me hard enough to see stars.
“More!” I cling to him as his release follows, a groan tearing from his chest like I’ve cracked him wide open.
When it’s over, I collapse against him, breathless and spinning in a haze.
“You’re undoing me, Glitter Bomb,” he whispers to me, voice rough with spent desire and something heavier.
“Then stay undone,” I murmur.
He yanks the silk tie free and crushes it in his palm, lifts me into his arms, and carries me from the bed into the bathroom, just as he promised.
He sets me on the edge of the porcelain, twisting the faucets, and the bathroom fills with the sounds of running water and the scent of the lavender bubble bath he drops into the spray.
“Stay there. It’s my turn to play spa attendant.” He swipes his thumb over my bottom lip and goes hunting for my candle lighter.
Upon his return, he ignites four candles, placing two on my windowsill above the tub, and two at the end of the bath. If I’m going to live in this fantasy, I’m doing it scented like heaven.
Grumpy Daddy crouches by the bath and swirls the water, encouraging it to bubble. Steam hazes the room and mists his visor. My body sags with fatigue, and I brace against the bathtub’s sides.
“Come here, baby.” He flicks off the water, reaches for me, and I stand and step in front of him. Rough hands makes quick work of my clothes and his own, the whisper of fabric hitting the floor sweet to my ears.
He holds my hand as I throw my leg over the side and sink into the water, heat and essential oils soaking into my tired muscles. The blindfold is back as he wraps it around my face. The only way I get all of him. For now, at least.
The shush sound signals his helmet is gone. He steps in behind me and settles me between his legs. The water climbs to my breasts, the heat of him melts into my back, his arms circle my waist, and face nuzzles my neck.
I let my fingers glide along his wet forearm, tracing the light layer of veins hidden under tattoos. “Enjoy being my reward, Daddy?”
His hands find my shoulder and begin my massage. Slow at first, relaxing my muscles, then working deeper to release their tension. He kisses my hot, slick flesh every so often, until I’m dizzy with heat and power.
“Good with your hands too?” I tease. “You’re checking a lot of boxes there, Daddy.” I count with my fingers. “Big dick and knows how to use it. Sinful body that I can’t keep my hands off. Wicked mouth with bonus dirty talk. Orange flags galore. One hundred percent book boyfriend material.”
“Shut the fuck up and take my massage like a good girl,” he snarks back, and I whimper, resting into him harder.
Longing to feel his face, I reach back and explore it.
A strong jaw meets my touch first, rough with a hint of stubble.
The sharp slope of cheekbones. Soft lips I’ve kissed blind.
Pictures of his face form. Black hair curling damp against the tan skin I got a glimpse of on the mountain.
Dark lashes frame eyes the color of a midnight ocean.
Exactly my type. My traitorous imagination builds a fantasy of devastating smiles and eyes that pin me in place.
Maybe it’s real, or maybe it’s a fantasy.
I’ll never know until he lets me. My heart fills in the blanks anyway.
When I trace his mouth again, he nips and licks me, then sucks my fingers into his mouth. I want to say something, but instead just run with it. What is it he says? Sensation. No words.
Countless time passes while Grumpy Daddy’s lethal hands render my neck, shoulders, and spine liquid, chasing away the pressure from my exhausting weekend.
Every languorous stroke reinforces that I’m safe with him.
The perfect aftercare. When he finishes, he lifts each hand, pressing soft kisses to my palm, and I sigh with pleasure.
Eventually, I summon the strength to turn and straddle him again, finding him hard.
He hisses through his teeth as I press into him.
Free of all my knots, I take my time to explore him now that I have time.
I leave no place untouched on his torso, memorizing every cut and line of his muscled body.
Drops of water, steam, and the divine scent of lavender amplify every sensation.
I trail my lips along his shoulder, down the side of his neck, while he tends to mine.
I love the way his body tenses when I hit sensitive spots, like behind his ear and right below his Adam’s apple.
I give back to him a little of what he gave me, digging into his muscles with my fingers, enjoying the grunts of his tension spilling out. He hardens as I move over him.
“Careful,” he warns, voice tight, fingers dimpling my hips even harder. “You’re gonna start a fire in here.”
“Then burn with me,” I whisper, rolling my hips, happy for Round Two.
The water sloshes as he pulls me down over him, and the world outside my ensuite ceases to exist. All I feel is the slick glide of skin, the hot mouth claiming mine, the reverent brush of my cheeks, his muscles contracting beneath my palms as he drives up into me.
“You drive me insane, Glitter Bomb,” he growls into my mouth. “I’ll tear down the world and rebuild it for you.”
I tremble at the heat and weight of his words. Again, when we detonate together with mutually timed orgasms. We stay in each other’s arms for a while before he lifts me out of the tub, pats me down with a towel, and lets me do the same, best as I can blindfolded.
“Define how insane?” A girl really must know the answer.
I brace for impact. For him to erect another wall between us.
Charlie’s words come back to haunt me. “Don’t run from the past or his walls. Trust him until he gives you a reason not to. He’s showing you who he is in ways that counts.”
Daddy’s showing me in little ways how he shows up for me.
“You know I care for you, Glitter Bomb.” My heart pounds in my ears as I listen to every word. “You stopped being a mission the day you made me feel like a man again. I don’t cook for just anyone, spoil their dog, shape ornaments for them, and tolerate questionable playlists.”
I splutter a laugh at that one. “No Celine shaming in this household.”
“That’s a lot for a man like me.” He dusts my neck with soft kisses. “Don’t let it go to your glittery head.”
Fire ignites in my chest like I’ve swallowed a star.
This quiet truth hidden in his grumpy jokes scares me as much as they soothe me.
A man like him doesn’t say “I love you” easily.
Daddy’s admitting things that ruin his morally orange reputation.
Each act is a breadcrumb leading me to somewhere I swore never to go again.
And, fuck, is that my bruised heart beating again?
Whispering maybe I can believe this. That maybe this won’t end in heartbreak?
I finally let myself lean into tenderness more dangerous than any Roman out to suppress or silence me.
I crush him to me and fumble for a reply. “Oh, it’s already gone to my head. That comment’s going in the obsessive devotion column.”
He spanks my backside, then carries me to my bed and unravels me all over again.
By the time I fall asleep spent from his tongue, hands, mouth, and cock, I realize I’ve given him more than my body tonight.
I’ve handed him the last unguarded piece of myself.
All that remains is to tell him how I really feel.
God help me, I don’t know if he’ll treasure it or break it.