The second the words leave my mouth, her expression changes, and a brazenness flares to life behind her eyes. “Who says I want gentle?”
My brows lift slightly, caught off guard. The shy uncertainty that used to define her every reaction around me is gone this morning. In its place is confidence, curiosity, and a dangerous spark that heats my blood instantly.
I study her carefully, my fingers flexing against the soft curve of her waist.
“You sure you want to say things like that to me this early in the morning, trouble?”
She shifts closer instead of backing down. “Yes, Daddy.”
Fuck.
I roll us smoothly until she’s beneath me, sinking into the mattress as I brace myself above her. My shirt rides up her thighs when my body settles between them. Her lips part slightly as she looks up at me, and she’s fucking beautiful, splayed out beneath me.
As my hand slowly slides up her thigh, my fingers flexing possessively against her warm skin, I dip my head to hers. “You’re playing with fire, trouble,” I whisper against her mouth.
Her breathing stutters, but she still doesn’t back down. “I’m not afraid.”
I kiss her hard. This time, hungry and possessive. My mouth takes hers with enough force to pull a breathlessmewl from her throat. Her arms wind around my neck, and her fingers slide into my hair, tugging just enough to make my pulse spike and my cock grow rigid against her thigh.
I’m completely fucking hopeless. One night. That’s all it took for my body to become addicted to her.
My mouth drags from her lips to her jaw, then lower, to her throat as she arches beneath me. The movement presses her chest against mine, and her nipples drag along my pecs through the thin cotton barrier. “I can’t get enough of you.” I kiss the words over her soft skin.
A knock raps on the bedroom door, and I freeze for a brief second before lavishing her neck with my lips and tongue. Another knock pounds at the door, louder and more urgent.
For the love of fucking God.
“Go away,” I call roughly without lifting my head.
“Sorry, Damon,” Gunnar calls through the closed door, sounding far too amused for this hour of the morning. “The ambassador is on the phone. He wants a status update on Mackenzi.”
I close my eyes and groan directly against her neck. Mackenzi starts laughing softly, the sweet sound showing she is entirely too entertained by my suffering.
I kiss the side of her throat again, unwilling to surrender the moment. “Then give him one,” I mutter. “She’s good.”
“Yeah.” Gunnar laughs dryly from the other side of the door. “Pretty sure he wants itfrom you.”
Of course he fucking does.
I drop my forehead against Mackenzi’s shoulder dramatically. “I hate everyone.”
Her laughter billows out freely, bright and impossible not to react to. The sound alone almost makes staying in bed worth whatever professional disaster awaits me downstairs.
I lift my head enough to glare at the door. “Tell him I’m dead.”
“Already tried that one,” Gunnar replies. “He didn’t buy it.”
Liar.
Mackenzi grins up at me as I sigh, like the world is out to get me. I groan before leaning down to steal one more kiss from her. “We’ll finish this later.”
The look she gives me at that promise nearly changes my mind about getting out of bed. I force myself upright and drag a hand down my face as Mackenzi remains tangled in the sheets, watching me with appreciative eyes that absolutelydo nothelp the situation.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I teasingly grumble while reaching for my pants.
Her smile only widens.
Hopeless.
