I gasp at the fullness, the slight burn as my body adjusts to his size. He holds still, letting me accommodate him, his forehead pressed to mine.
“No one is ever going to hurt Daddy’s little girl again,” he murmurs, starting to move with slow, deep strokes. “Will kill them if they try.”
The water cascades around us as he makes love to me against the wall. Each thrust pushes me higher, closer to that edge he's shown me multiple times now. His hands grip my ass, controlling our rhythm, holding me exactly where he wants me.
"You feel that?" he growls, grinding deeper. "How perfect we fit? You were made for me."
"Yes," I gasp, clinging to his shoulders. "Made for you."
His thrusts become more forceful, more deliberate. "Gonna fill this sweet body," he promises darkly. "Breed you full of my babies. Keep you safe. Keep you mine. You want that, baby? Want to make your daddy a daddy?”
The breeding talk that should shock me never does. Instead, it winds the coil tighter inside me, pushing me toward release.
"Yes," I moan, beyond coherent thought. "Yours, Daddy. Only yours."
"Come for me," he commands, his thumb finding my clit. "Come on Daddy's cock, little girl."
The orgasm crashes through me without warning, tearing a sob from my throat. I cling to him as my body convulses, as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me.
He follows immediately, burying his face in my neck as he pulses inside me, his release hot and claiming.
We stay like that for long moments—me pinned between his body and the wall, him still buried deep inside me, the water gradually cooling around us. When he finally pulls back to look at me, his expression is soft with wonder.
"You're a miracle," he says simply, lowering me gently to my feet but keeping me steady with his hands on my waist.
The words make me blush, unused to such naked adoration. "I'm just me," I whisper.
"That's the miracle," he replies, shutting off the water and grabbing a towel. He wraps me in it, drying me with the same care he used to wash me. "After everything you've been through, you're still so sweet. So trusting."
As he dries himself quickly then leads me back to the bedroom, I realize he's right. I do trust him. Completely. This man I've barely known for a day has somehow become my entire world, my safe harbor.
And for the first time in years, I don't feel afraid of what tomorrow might bring.
seven
. . .
Ryker
Finding Danny takes lessthan two hours. Amazing what a couple hundred bucks can buy you in information when you know which palms to grease. I leave Amanda sleeping in my bed, safe behind three deadbolts and a security system. She doesn't know I'm gone. Doesn't know what I'm about to do. Better that way. The beast inside me needs release, needs to eliminate the threat to what's mine. Professional fighting taught me control, how to harness the violence that's always lived in my blood. But this—hunting the man who terrorized my woman for years—this is pure predator. No referee. No rules. Just me and the piece of shit who dared to put fear in those doe eyes I've come to worship.
The bar is exactly the kind of place you'd expect to find scum like him. Dimly lit, sticky floors, the smell of stale beer and desperation. The type of establishment where the bartender looks the other way when deals go down in dark corners. I spot him immediately—hunched over a beer at the end of the bar, phone in hand. Probably sending more threats to Amanda. My hands clench into fists at the thought.
I take my time approaching, let him feel me coming. The predatory instinct is strong—why rush when your prey is cornered? He's average height, wiry build. Nothing special. Nothing threatening to a man my size. Hard to believe this insignificant piece of shit has terrorized my sweet girl for years.
His head turns as I get closer, animal instinct sensing danger. His eyes widen slightly when he recognizes me from the bar, then narrow with false bravado.
"Well, look who it is. The hired muscle." His voice is slurred slightly. Liquid courage. "What, she send you to fight her battles?"
I say nothing, just slide onto the stool beside him. Close enough to strike, but not so close he bolts. Not yet.
"She's quite a tease, isn't she?" he continues when I don't respond. "All innocent eyes and 'no, Danny, stop,' but she wants it. Always has."
My jaw clenches so tight I hear my teeth creak, but I maintain control. For now.
"You know," he leans closer, alcohol making him stupid, "I got further than she probably told you. That kiss? Fucking hot. Had my tongue halfway down her throat before she ran off."
The red haze descends so fast I barely register moving. One moment I'm sitting beside him, the next my hand is around his throat, lifting him off the stool. People scatter, but no one intervenes. This kind of place, you mind your own business if you want to leave with all your teeth.
