Chapter 18
Trace woke in the hush before dawn, the way he always did, alert, every sense tuned in to his surroundings.
At one time, it had annoyed him, but not anymore.
Here on out, all his senses could focus on the woman beside him.
The room was still dark except for the embers in the fireplace, casting a faint red glow across the bed. Across her.
Kip.
His wife.
She lay on her stomach, one small fist tucked under the pillow, the other arm flung toward his side of the bed like she’d reached for him in her sleep and refused to take no for an answer.
That wild mane of hers spilled fire everywhere.
Some of her dark red strands stuck to her damp cheek, some twisted around his own forearm where she’d wrapped herself around him in the night.
The quilt had worked its way down to the curve of her ass, baring the long, delicate line of her spine.
Even in the dim light, he could make out faint bruises blooming along her shoulder blades where his mouth had been. His marks. Proof.
He couldn’t breathe right when he looked at her like this.
Thirty-four years he’d walked this earth half-empty, and he hadn’t even known it until she looked up at him with those big hazel eyes and called him Daddy in that soft, trusting voice.
Now she was his wife. living under his skin, carved into bone.
Kipling Renee Harper Daniels.
He’d kill for her. Die for her. Burn every bridge, every inch of ground between here and hell if that’s what it took to keep her safe. To keep her smiling. She’d be right here in this bed every morning until they were both old and gray. The rightness of it settled in his gut.
She made a breathy little sigh in her sleep, stirring his cock to life. Just a breath, and he was already hard and aching. He shifted closer, the mattress dipping under his weight, and dragged one rough knuckle down the slope of her shoulder.
Her skin was like silk, and hot from where he’d had her pinned beside him most of the night. She leaned into his touch without waking. Like her body knew who it belonged to, even when her mind was lost in dreams.
He couldn’t wait another heartbeat.
Starting at her temple, he lowered his lips to brush the fine wisps of hair there, tasting salt and sleep and something else that was all her. Another kiss at the corner of her closed eye, then the delicate hinge of her jaw.
She stirred, lashes fluttering against her cheeks, and he claimed her mouth with slow, coaxing licks along the seam of her lips until she opened for him. She let out a sleepy, welcoming hum that went straight to his balls.
“Trace,” she breathed, morning making her voice husky and small.
“Morning, wife.” He said it against her lips, the word rough with possession. Then he took her mouth deeper, his tongue sliding against hers until she arched up, her delicate fingers twisting in his hair as if she was afraid he’d vanish.
But he didn’t plan on going anywhere without her again. Not ever.
He ran his tongue down the column of her throat now, open-mouthed and deliberate, pausing to suck hard at the spot just below her ear that always made her gasp. The sound she gave him was filled with need, sending shots of fire down his spine.
He took the kiss lower, dragged his mouth over one breast, before catching her nipple between his teeth and holding it just firmly enough to make her back arch toward him.
Flicking it twice, he closed his lips around the turgid bud and sucked until it stood tight and aching.
She whimpered his name like it hurt to feel so good.
Her hands clawed at his shoulders, nails digging tiny half-moons that would mark him later and make him grin all damn day. She was urging him lower, hips already rolling against his thigh.
The way she begged without words almost had him coming in the sheets.
Then her silence broke. “Please, Daddy. I need you.”
Being the good Daddy he was, he gave his little fox exactly what she needed.
He tasted his way down the center of her body, tongue tracing every rib, every inch of skin he’d wanted to claim last night and planned to claim again every day for the rest of his life.
When he settled between her thighs, he shoved them wide with his shoulders. Looking up the length of her, all flushed, trembling, and perfect, his heart slammed against his ribs.
“Oh, babygirl. I love how you spread for me,” he growled. “Look how wet and dripping you are. Is this all for me?”
Her entire body flushed crimson. Her cheeks, her chest, all the way to her pretty nipples. But she didn’t let that stop her, not his Foxy. Her hips lifted in a silent plea, and that was all the permission he needed.
Taking his time, he drew his tongue in one long, filthy stroke from her entrance to her clit, and the taste of her exploded across his tongue.
So. Damn. Good. He groaned against her, the vibration making her jerk.
He licked again, circled that swollen bud with the tip of his tongue, then sealed his mouth over her sensitive nub and sucked while he pushed two thick fingers deep.
Kip’s back bowed clean off the bed. “Oh! Daddy!”
Something primal inside him roared in triumph. He curled his fingers, finding that spot that made her shake, and worked her clit with steady, merciless laps.
She was close already. He could feel it in the way her thighs clamped around his ears. The way her breath hitched and stuttered. When she started trembling on the edge, he eased a third finger lower, slick with her juices, and traced the tight ring of her ass.
Her whole body locked up, breath catching hard.
“Wait! I don’t… I mean, what are you doing?”
“I’m exploring what’s mine, little fox. Every inch of you is mine.” He rimmed her dark hole again. “And that includes this.”
She whimpered, but her juices covered his hand.
Yeah, his little girl liked anal play. And that had his cock so hard it bordered on pain.
“Soon, babygirl,” he rasped against her soaked flesh.
“Daddy’s gonna take this perfect little hole while you scream my name.
But right now, you’re gonna come on my tongue like the good girl you are. ”
He pressed just the tip of his finger inside her bottom and sucked her clit hard.
She shattered, her hips bucking wildly, her hands yanking his hair so hard his eyes watered.
“Daddy!”
She cried out his name into the dark like it was the only word that mattered. He didn’t stop until the last tremor left her body and she went limp, chest heaving, thighs shaking around his head.
Only then did he crawl up her body, hook her knees over his forearms, and drive into her in one brutal thrust. She was molten, still pulsing around him, and so damn tight. He had to lock his jaw to keep from coming on the spot.
“Look at me,” he ordered, voice wrecked.
Her eyes opened. Stunning blue orbs… big, hazy, full of trust and love and everything that belonged to him alone.
“I love you, Foxy,” he said, pulling out slowly and slamming back in. “Love you so fucking much it hurts.”
She locked her ankles at the small of his back, digging in her heel as she tried to pull him closer. “I love you, too, Daddy. Please—”
But she didn’t need to beg anymore.
He took her hard and deep, watching every flicker on her face and relishing every gasp, every flutter of her lashes, every time she bit that swollen bottom lip.
When she came the second time, clenching around him like a fist, he followed her over, spilling deep inside her.
He screamed her name, guttural and fierce, his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest.
After, he stayed buried inside her, his forehead pressed to hers. “I’m never letting you go, Foxy,” he whispered, the words scraped raw. “You’re stuck with me forever.”
She smiled, soft and sated and so damn trusting it made his throat tight. “Good.”
He collapsed to the side, keeping her pinned against him with one heavy arm locked around her waist. She was still trembling, thighs sticky with both of them, and he fucking loved the sight of his marks on her shoulder, his cum on her thighs. His wife from now until the end of time.
He brushed the damp hair off her forehead and dropped a kiss there. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of, and more than he deserved.
Kip’s eyes were half-closed, her voice soft and satisfied. “Pretty sure my soul just left my body, Daddy.”
He huffed a rough laugh against her skin. “Good. Means I fucked my Little girl exactly right.”
But the high was already easing, and the part of him that was always Daddy kicked in hard. He’d been too rough. She’d told him she hadn’t been with anyone in six years. He should have gone more slowly and been gentler.
Fine tremor shook her limbs, and the way her breath still hitched every few seconds told him all he needed to know. She’d flown high. Now he needed to bring her down gradually.
He pressed one last kiss to her soft, swollen mouth, then rolled off the bed. He walked to the bathroom just long enough to grab the warm, wet cloth. When he was back between her legs, he knelt and gentled his voice. “Open for Daddy, babygirl.”
Kip’s thighs trembled as she let them fall apart, trusting him completely. The sight of her legs splayed, her body open to him with eyes already drifting closed, humbled him. He would do everything in his power to be worthy of her trust and love.
He wiped her clean with slow, careful strokes, murmuring praise the whole time. “That’s my good girl. Such a pretty Little girl letting Daddy take care of you. I’m proud of you, little fox. You took everything Daddy gave you, and you were perfect.”
She made a soft, floaty sound that wasn’t quite a word, as her eyes fluttered shut.
He tossed the cloth toward the hamper and scooped her up, quilt and all, settling her on his chest in the middle of the bed.
One big hand splayed across her back, he could feel the rapid flutter of her heart slow against his palm.
The other cradled the nape of her neck, thumb rubbing slow circles at the base of her skull.
“How are you feeling, little fox?” he asked quietly, needing to hear her answer.
“The best of my life, Daddy,” she whispered against his skin, voice small and blissed-out. “So, so happy.”
He smiled into her hair and reached blindly for the stuffed fox on her pillow. She’d chosen to name her Vixie. Which, as with almost everything else she did, was adorable.
He tucked her friend into her arms. She hugged Vixie tight on instinct, burrowing closer into Trace, cheek pressed over his heart where it belonged.
Trace pulled the heavy quilt over both of them, cocooning her in warmth and him. The room smelled like satisfaction, and he breathed it in like it was oxygen.
“You did so good for me, Kip,” he murmured, lips against her temple. “You flew so high and came back to Daddy like the brave girl you are. You’re perfect, little fox. So damn perfect.”
She made a happy little hum, nuzzling into him, Vixie squished between them. “Love you.”
“Love you more.” He dropped another kiss to the top of her head, breathing her in. “It’s still early, little one. I’m gonna hold you till you fall asleep, then I have to check on the ranch. When you wake up, I’ll ask Ruby to make those little pancakes with the smiley faces you like. Sound good?”
“’Kay,” she sighed, already drifting. “You’ll be there?”
“Always, little fox. Daddy’s not going anywhere.”
Her breathing evened out into soft, steady puffs against his chest. Trace kept stroking her back, slow and steady, counting her heartbeats against his own, feeling the moment she slipped all the way under, trusting him to keep her safe. She was his.
Mine to protect. Mine to love. Mine to keep safe, warm, and happy for the rest of my life.
And what a life it would be. He couldn’t wait.
The fire popped once, a final spark, then settled into quiet ash. Outside, the first pale hint of dawn crept through the sky, but Trace didn’t move. Not yet. First, he pressed one last kiss to her hair and held his whole world tight.