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“Who do you belong to,” Ethan growls into my neck as the heat at my center begins to come to a boil. My eyes roll back in my head until I can help but close them to focus on the pleasure. “Say it!”
“You, daddy!” I cry out as sparks begin to shoot up behind my eyelids.
“That’s right, and Daddy’s gonna fill you up just like you deserve.”
The peak of my pleasure surges through me in a flash, my body writhing and shaking beneath him as he fucks me through it. Ethan’s last few thrusts are hard, making his hips slap hard enough against my flesh that collapse to the floor. They stutter in their pace shortly after that as his cock twitches inside me, filling me with his release.
“You’re mine,” he growls, thrusting to make sure every single drop gets deep inside me. “All this is proof that you’re mine. Anyone who tries to take you from me will have hell to pay.”
I whimper when he finally pulls out, the loss of his cock making me feel empty even though I’m sated and still feeling the glow of my orgasm.
It feels ironic to hear him say those words when he doesn’t know about my father or his threats yet. He’s probably still caught up in the moment because there’s no way he’d actually mean that, right?
When a cold shiver wracks my body, he pulls me into his arms. The warmth of his body against mine isn’t enough to put me at ease, not really, but at least it can distract me.
Well, it’s more than that. No one has ever made me feel the way that Ethan does. With every single thing we learn about each other, we become closer. We’re no longer the strangers to each other that we were a few days ago. We still have a lot of secret, but he’s always made it seem like they’re incidental. Like we’ll eventually and truly know everything there is to know about each other.
I just can’t help feeling that my biggest secret is the one that will tear us apart.
Chapter Six
Ethan
There’s trouble brewing.
I have nothing to go off of other than my instinct, but my instinct is rarely wrong. I’m just not sure how I feel about it.
There’s a part of me that feels like this is a distraction—from my work, from my woman, you name it. It’s been simple balancing getting work done with spending time with Birdie. Her living nearby helps, and my habit of watching her means that I can keep eyes on her at all times when I’m on the job. And I can’t say my work has suffered at all because if anything, I’m working even harder. I have to be able to provide for Birdie, after all, and she deserves the very best. So far, it hasn’t been hard to make both work, but now that I’ve got my instincts going off …
I’m worried it’ll throw a wrench in my plans.
“What else did you want?” Jared, my assistant, asks. His question breaks me out of thoughts, making me focus on the matter at hand.
“I need the invoice for the materials we ordered last week,” I say, letting myself scroll through my work tablet once more. Too many damn emails on this thing.
“I’ll have it to you in the next hour.”
“And make sure to get me the information for the potential new hires. I want to look through it before we get in touch for interviews.”
Jared nods at me as he taps away on his phone, no doubt adding tasks to a to do list as I give them to him. “Right away, sir.”
“Lastly, do you have the results of that background check?”
He nods at me and suddenly, both my phone and tablet buzz—a notification from Jared with a file attached. As I open the file and start to scroll through it, he starts giving me the basic hits of the report.
A few days ago, I’d caught Birdie shoving a box into her trash can with a dark look marring her pretty face. At the time, I didn’t question it, but I’d made note of the name on the package, filing it away for later, in case it was important.
After watching Birdie get jumpier and jumpier, however, I decided it was time to look into it further. The timing felt too convenient for the package not to be related to her mood.
“It looks like Cristofor Vasile is some wealthy businessman operating abroad, mostly in Romania. I had to pull some strings to get into it further, but it looks like Interpol’s had an eye on him for decades.”
My brow furrows as I take in the picture attached to the report. He looks like any other slightly greasy European businessman in my opinion, but there’s something familiar about him, too. “What’s Interpol got on him?”
“He’s the alleged head of a powerful organized crime group in Romania,” Jared says with a shrug. “They’ve been trying to pin him with something for years but haven’t gotten anything yet.”
I hum at him as I keep reading, but then something catches my eye. In the list of associated persons included in the report,there’s a Valeria Toma listed. Ex-wife, divorced a little less than twenty years ago.
Toma. That’s Birdie’s last name. And with her age in mind, it’s all beginning to add up. The pieces of the puzzle are beginning to fall into place, but there’s one thing I still don’t know.
