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The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, bathing her face in a soft light. In sleep, Maci seemed to be in a world far away from the dangers and complexities of our reality. Her features were relaxed, a stark contrast to the deliciously defiant intensity that often marked her gaze when she was awake.
She looked like a perfect angel.
In this moment, she was just my Maci, my sweet, innocent goddaughter that was untouched by the shadows of my world.
Untouched by me.
I approached her bed, my gaze lingering on her every curve. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the very picture of serenity.
Noticing that the covers had slipped slightly, I reached out to take them between my fingers as gently as I could. Carefully, I pulled the blankets up, ensuring she was snug and warm. As I tucked the blanket around her, a warm, foreign feeling surged within me.
Standing there, watching her sleep, I felt a rare moment of peace amidst the constant storm of my life. In her presence, I found a semblance of solace, a glimpse of what life could be beyond power struggles and looming threats.
A happily ever after…
No.
That wasn’t in the cards for me. I had to be realistic. I shook my head, shaking off the idealistic pipedream of happiness and put my mind back where it was supposed to be.
In the game. Forever in the game.
I lingered for a moment more, committing the sight of her to memory—the way her eyelashes fluttered and caressed her cheeks in her sleep, the soft, rosy blush that crept over her face, the gentle curve of her chest as it rose and fell. Then, silently, I retreated from the room, closing the door gently behind me.
I stood there with my back to the door for a long moment, just wanting to be near her for a moment longer.
Returning to my room, I let the remnants of that quiet moment with her remain in my mind before I finally made myself push it aside.
It was time to prepare for the day ahead. I had just entered into a war with two prominent families, and I needed to be prepared for their inevitable strike back.
I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash over me, cleansing not just the persistent remnants of sleep but also allowing me a moment of solitude to gather my thoughts and steel myself for whatever challenges the day might bring.
After the shower, I dressed meticulously in a fine black tailored suit. Then I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. The house was just waking up, the early morning light radiating its golden hue through the windows. I decided to prepare breakfast—thinking that Maci might appreciate the kind gesture especially with how rough I was with her yesterday.
Even though I’m certain she enjoyed it. I made sure of it.
Over… and over again…
My thoughts drifted back to yesterday afternoon, and my cock jumped, remembering how her snug, virgin pussy had spasmed around my cock with every orgasm, the tiny little gasps she’d made right before she came and the sound of her screams as she shattered and bucked beneath me.
Every bit of it was fucking delicious.
Fuck. I shouldn’t let her get to me. I was a strong man before she came into my life, and I would remain that even with her in it.
I vowed that to myself.
As I cracked eggs into a pan and started whisking them into a scramble, the aroma of coffee and cooking slowly filled the kitchen. I was just adding a handful of herbs to the scrambled eggs when I heard the gentle pitter-patter of tiny feet. Turning around, I saw Maci entering the kitchen, her expression a tad hesitant, which was understandable.
She was dressed in a simple green wrap dress that complemented the blue-green hue of her eyes. The color accentuated her natural beauty, giving her an ethereal quality that was both striking and endearing, and for a moment, she took my breath away. The morning light seemed to catch and dance in her eyes, making them sparkle with a life and vibrancy that utterly captivated me, and I found that I couldn’t look away.
I swallowed hard, eventually making myself turn back to the eggs.
“Good morning,” I greeted her, trying to hide my inherent interest in every inch of her body.
“Morning,” she replied, her voice soft, a small smile gracing her lips. She moved closer, her presence filling the kitchen with a lightness that contrasted starkly with the usual hard intensity of my life.
Seeing her there dressed so simply yet looking so beautiful, I was reminded once again of the stark dichotomy of our lives—the danger and power of my world, and the simplicity and purity of these moments with her. In her I’d found an unexpected sanctuary, a reminder of a life that could be, of a peace that was so rare in my world.
In truth, a part of me adored that about her.
