I couldn’t help but laugh. “What?”
Not one ounce of humor hit that gaze. “You will call me Daddy the whole time.”
“You’re not that much older than me. What are you, thirty?”
“That’s eight years older than you.”
“Not enough to bemydaddy.”
“Yet, I will beyourdaddy when you’re naked and on my bed with your legs spread.”
That took away my words because in the end, absurd or not, I could see myself, bare and spread out for him. . .moaning. . .begging. . .and whispering daddy.
I swallowed. “Back to the chef.”
A dark chuckle left him.
“Please, don’t kill him.”
“That’s a big ask.”
“I know.”
“You will not be able to save everyone that comes close to harming you. Do you understand?”
“I do understand, but—”
“No buts. This time. . .Iwilllisten to you.”
His concession left me surprised. I bit down on my lower lip and nodded, grateful for his willingness to compromise.
I hoped that this was a step towards the right direction for us—a delicate balance of give and take.
“But again,” he added, and his voice was heavily stern. “You won't be able to save them all. There are some lines that, when it comes to you, they can’t be crossed without repercussions.”
“I understand.” The words were difficult to say but necessary.
“You are. . .” He breathed me in. “You are nowmy everything.”
Against my will, my heart warmed.
“You know the world that we live in, my queen. It isn't fair or kind. There are rules and consequences, even if they seem too harsh at times.”
“I understand.”
“Good. . .Princess.” He leaned over and kissed me.
And this kiss was possessive, demanding, and told of a promise that went beyond words.
A promise of protection.
Of possession.
Of death.
Of a life that would never be ordinary.
His mouth slanted over mine, the sensation raw and electrifying. His hand was on the back of my neck, keeping me in place, as if I had any intention of pulling away.
