Chapter 15 #2
When I opened the door, Marie was where I'd left her, curled on her side in my bed. The sheets had shifted lower, revealing more of her form beneath the white shirt she wore. Her face was peaceful in sleep, lips slightly parted, long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks.
She was unbelievably beautiful.
I sat on the edge of the bed, making sure not to jostle her. She needed sleep to heal the cuts, the burns, the exhaustion after five years of trauma. Her body was already showing improvement after just a few days of proper care, but she still had a long way to go.
My hand moved without conscious thought, fingers skimming lightly over her bare arm. Her skin was soft, the contrast of my pale fingers against her dusky skin striking in the moonlight. I traced up toward her shoulder, just feeling the warmth of her.
Then my fingers found the edge of the bandage covering her Manchineel burn, and I paused there, feeling the reminder of what she'd done to herself to escape. The courage and desperation that had driven her to that choice.
My touch moved to her hair, following from where it lay against her neck down over her shoulder. The braid was thick, textured, beautiful in its complexity. I traced it lower, down to where it ended just above…
I stopped. My fingers had followed the braid to where it curved over her breast, and I realized with sudden, sharp awareness exactly where my hand was. The soft curve of her, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, the warmth radiating through thin cotton.
My heart sped up and heat pooled low, spreading through me with an intensity that caught me off guard. I retracted my hand, even as my eyes remained fixed on her form beneath the sheets.
The curve of her body was visible—the dip of her waist, the swell of her hip, the elegant line of her legs. She was smaller than me, delicate. And even sleeping, even healing, she was the most stunning thing I'd ever seen.
Somehow, this wounded woman had run into me and completely upturned my life. I’d cleared my schedule, watched security feeds, and planned a future I'd never considered before.
She made me want to utilize every resource I had, every connection, every dollar, and every ounce of power to make her happy. To make her mine.
And I wanted nothing less than all of her.
I was forty-seven years old and had been with more women than I cared to count, had explored every indulgence imaginable. I was experienced, controlled, a man who prided himself on discipline and restraint.
And yet here I was, fully hard from simply watching her sleep. From tracing my fingers over her arm and following a braid to places I shouldn't have touched. From imagining all the ways I wanted to worship this strong, brave woman who'd become mine.
I stood before the evidence of my desire became too obvious, adjusting my pants with a quiet curse. Only Marie could do this to me. Only my little darling could make such a seasoned man lose his composure over something as innocent as watching her sleep.
I needed to handle this and take the edge off before I woke her up and showed her how much I wanted her. She needed rest, needed healing, needed time, even if my body was screaming for something else entirely.
I moved to the ensuite bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. The space was marble and glass, moonlight filtering through the frosted window.
I stripped quickly, leaving my clothes on the counter, then stepped into the oversized shower. The water came on hot immediately, one of the many luxuries of the estate.
My hand found my cock almost immediately, already throbbing and aching. I leaned one forearm against the tile wall and closed my eyes, thinking about her.
About Marie in my bed, sleeping in my sheets. About how she'd melted in my arms earlier, going small and trusting when I praised her.
About the sounds she'd made when I'd touched her on the couch, how she'd whimpered and looked at me like I was giving her something she'd never had before.
I stroked myself deliberately, imagining what it would be like when she finally called me daddy. Not accidentally or in the heat of the moment, but consciously. Looking at me with those dark eyes and saying the word that would make her completely, utterly mine.
Daddy.
My hand moved faster, grip tightening. I imagined touching her more than I already had, stripping that shirt off her body, seeing all of her instead of just glimpses.
Running my hands over her soft skin, feeling every curve, every place that made her gasp.
Learning what made her moan, what made her beg, what made her fall apart in my arms.
I wanted to taste her, to spend hours between her thighs, making her come on my tongue over and over until she forgot every bad thing that had ever happened to her. I longed to worship her beautiful skin with my mouth, marking her as mine.
My breathing grew harsher, water cascading over my shoulders as I worked myself harder. I saw her beneath me, those dark eyes looking up at me with trust and desire. I imagined being inside her, feeling her tight and perfect around me, making her mine in every way possible.
I heard her saying daddy while I was buried deep, those soft lips forming the word that would undo me completely.
My orgasm hit hard and sudden, pleasure spiraling through me as I came with a bitten-off curse. I braced against the wall, breathing hard, watching the evidence of my desire wash away down the drain.
This many years of life and I was getting off in the shower like a teenager, all because of a woman sleeping in my bed who was completely unaware of what she was doing to me.
I cleaned up, turned off the water, and dried off with one of the plush towels. My body felt more settled now, the edge taken off, even if the desire was still simmering beneath the surface.
When I returned to the bedroom in sleep pants, Marie had shifted slightly. One leg was drawn up, the sheet tangled around her, and she looked peaceful in sleep, trusting me enough to be this unguarded.
I slid into bed beside her, close enough to feel her warmth. Close enough to protect, to care for. To make sure she knew, even in sleep, that she wasn't alone anymore.
Tomorrow she'd see her father, tomorrow we'd start bridging her past and her future. Tomorrow, we'd take another step toward making her completely, permanently mine.
But tonight, I was content to watch her sleep, knowing she was safe, healing, and exactly where she belonged.