Chapter 7 Elior
Elior
I sat at the small table in the kitchen, feet tucked back under the chair, hands folded in my lap like I needed to keep them from shaking.
Jace moved through the space with such confidence that it made me a little jealous. I wanted to be that comfortable here, but I felt so… untethered, even with Daddy pleasuring me in the tub earlier.
Everything was different.
Father was gone. The Covenant was gone. My entire world was gone.
I didn’t understand how I was supposed to move forward.
I didn’t know anything.
I quietly watched as he set a bowl of soup in front of me.
“It’s chicken noodle,” he said gently before sitting across from me with his own full bowl. “It should be easy on your stomach.”
I nodded and wrapped my fingers around the spoon. It felt heavier than it should have. My hand hesitated halfway to the bowl, my chest tightening for no clear reason at all.
You should be grateful, a voice whispered in my head. You’re safe. You’re out of the hospital. You’re with your Daddy.
But why did everything feel so wrong?
I dipped the spoon, lifted it, and brought it to my mouth.
It tasted fine, and the warmth of it was soothing all in itself, but still, something in my stomach disagreed with me.
“Is it okay?” Jace asked, immediately alert.
“Yeah,” I said too quickly. I forced another spoonful, my throat closing around it. My chest felt tight, like I couldn’t quite get a full breath.
I set the spoon down.
Jace frowned, his eyes full of concern. “Baby—”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted, heat rushing to my face as my eyes grew wet. “I-I don’t know why I can’t just—”
“Shh, cherub, it’s okay,” Jace said, reaching across the table to hold my trembling hands. “I know it’s difficult. I do need you to eat, though. What about a strawberry smoothie? Would that be better?”
I sniffled, feeling useless. “No, you already made this, and—and you need to eat too.”
Jace shook his head. “It’ll take barely any time. And if I need to, I can just warm my soup up in the microwave,” he said, squeezing my hands once before letting go and standing.
I shook my head weakly. “I don’t want to be difficult.”
“You’re not,” he replied immediately. “So just let Daddy take care of you, okay?”
“Okay…”
I watched him cross the kitchen, the knot in my chest easing just a fraction. He moved with purpose, opening the fridge and pulling out a carton of fresh strawberries, yogurt, and milk.
“Maybe we should try sitting on the couch,” he added over his shoulder. “Watch some TV as we eat.”
“Um… Whatever you want,” I said, throwing a glance across the hall to where the living room was.
I watched his hands as he worked—strong, steady, completely unbothered by the change in plans. He didn’t seem frustrated as he rinsed and cut the berries, then added all the ingredients into this big glass container that looked sort of like a vase with a lid.
After he’d added everything, he put the lid back on and pressed a button.
The sudden sound was loud enough to make me jump.
Jace noticed instantly, turning it off and shooting me an apologetic look. “Shit. I’m sorry, baby,” he said. “I forgot how loud blenders are. You okay?”
“It’s okay,” I murmured, embarrassed. My fingers curled into the hem of my shirt under the table.
“I need to turn it back on for a minute, so it’s going to be loud again,” he warned. I nodded, then braced my feet on the floor in anticipation.
My hands clenched as the buzzing roar filled the house. I decided not to ask for smoothies very often.
When the blender finally stopped, the kitchen fell quiet again. Jace poured the smoothie into a glass—pink and thick, dotted with tiny seeds—and carried it over to the table.
He set it in front of me, then slid a straw into the glass. “There,” he said softly. “Can you take a sip for me, El?”
I stared at it for a moment, then wrapped my fingers around the cool glass and fitted my lips around the straw. Cool sweetness flooded my mouth. I swallowed without any issue and took another sip, liking the flavor and how easily my body seemed to accept it.
“Good?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, closing my eyes as I took another sip. When I opened them, he was smiling at me, his relief obvious.
“Good,” he said, voice warm. “Now let’s get you comfy.” He took the glass from my hands, then held his palm out to me. I hesitated out of habit, that old reflex whispering that I shouldn’t need help, shouldn’t ask for it.
But he was my Daddy. He was supposed to help me. He’d said so.
I slipped my hand into his and followed him to the living room. The couch looked impossibly soft in the afternoon light.
Daddy set my glass down on a side table, then said, “Sit down.”
I did, sinking into the cushions, pulling my legs up. Before I could even think to ask, he picked up the throw blanket and shook it out, then draped it around my shoulders and tucked it in around my sides. He folded it over my legs, cocooning me.
I wiggled my arms free as he got the smoothie. He then placed it in my hands again, adjusting my grip so I wouldn’t spill it.
“There you go,” he said proudly.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Jace sat down beside me, then shifted and pulled me gently into his side. His arm came around my shoulders, solid and warm.
I leaned into him before I could stop myself.
The anxiety that had been buzzing under my skin dulled, not gone but quieter, like someone had turned the volume down. My breathing matched his without me trying, and suddenly, everything felt more manageable.
I took another sip of the smoothie and rested my head against his chest.
Yes.
This was easier.
This—being bundled up and held, not expected to know anything or decide anything—felt like something I could survive.
Maybe… maybe I could just stay like this forever.
Daddy pressed a chaste kiss to the top of my head, then reached over to the side table for something.
“Do you want to try watching TV, baby? Or do you think that would be too much for you right now?”
“Too much…” I admitted softly, my fingers tightening just a little around the glass.
Daddy didn’t hesitate or push. He simply nodded and set whatever he’d picked up back on the table without turning the TV on. “Okay,” he said easily. “Then we won’t.”
The relief that washed through me was immediate and a little embarrassing. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been about answering wrong until the tension melted away.
“Do you want quiet,” he continued, his voice gentle, “or do you want me to talk to you?”
I thought about it for a second, cheek pressed to his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing grounding me. “Can you… just stay?” I asked. “Like this?”
A soft huff of a laugh vibrated through him, warm and affectionate. “Yeah, baby,” he said, tightening his arm around my shoulders. “I can do that.”
He shifted slightly so I was fully tucked against his side, his hand rubbing slow, absent circles against my upper arm through the blanket. The motion was repetitive and gentle, like he wasn’t even thinking about it—and somehow that made it feel safer.
I took another sip of the smoothie, then another, the glass gradually growing lighter in my hands. Each swallow felt like a small victory, but Daddy didn’t comment on it. He didn’t make it a thing. He just let me be.
When I finished, I handed him the glass without looking up. He took it carefully and set it aside, then pulled the blanket back up around my shoulders where it had slipped.
“I’m so proud of you, cherub,” he said. “We’ll get you healthier. Baby steps.”
I sighed, the sound slipping out of me before I could stop it. My body felt heavy now, pleasantly so, like the fight had finally drained out of me. I curled a little closer, my knees pressing into his thigh.
Daddy’s other hand came up to cradle the back of my head, fingers threading gently through my hair.
“I love you,” he said quietly. “And I’m going to take such good fucking care of you, baby. I promise.”
I swallowed, emotion tightening my throat. “I love you too, Daddy. I’m just scared. I don’t know how to be… out here,” I whispered. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“All you have to do is stay here, with me. That’s it.”
“I will, Daddy. You’re all I have,” I shakily murmured.
Daddy’s eyes darkened, and he let out a growl. “That’s goddamn right.” His rough voice sent a shiver through me.
The hand in my hair suddenly tightened, and I let out a small gasp at the sensation. Without much warning, Daddy brought my face closer to his, then claimed my mouth with a deep kiss. I melted into it, clutching his shirt as his kiss made me dizzy.
When he broke away, I collapsed against his side, breathless.
“Who do you belong to, Elior?”
“You. I… I belong to you, Daddy.”
“That’s my good boy,” he growled low, hands sliding into my blanket cocoon to roam my body. One of his hands slid up my chest, rolling one of my nipples through my shirt. “I can’t get enough of you, baby boy. But I don’t need to hold back, do I? There’s no one here to interrupt me anymore.”
Jace’s hands roamed over my body with a possessive hunger that made my skin tingle and my breath hitch.
His fingers traced my chest before dipping lower to grip my hips firmly, pulling me flush against him.
I could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against my thigh through his jeans, an insistent reminder of how much he wanted me.
My own arousal stirred, heat pooling in my groin as I melted into his touch, every nerve ending alive under his command.
“See? This is how it should be. You’re here, safe with me, letting Daddy own every inch of you. No more hospitals, no more strangers poking at what’s mine.”
His lips brushed my ear, hot breath sending shivers down my spine. One hand slid up my shirt, calloused palm scraping against my sensitive skin, thumb circling my nipple until it hardened into a tight peak. I gasped, arching into him, my body betraying any lingering doubts with raw need.