"Yes, Daddy," she whispers.
She has no idea the consequences of that seemingly innocent answer.
“Good girl.”
Those two words take on a whole new meaning as I leave her alone, closing her in behind me, and God help me, something in my chest starts to warm.
Chapter 2
Sebastian
Thirteen hours, thirty-four minutes, and sixteen seconds.
That's how long she's been on my island.
One hour I spent watching her sleep, trying to make sense in my head of why I was wasting time watching an unconscious girl breathe.
The remaining ten hours and twenty-six minutes, I've spent trying—and failing—not to think about the way she said "Yes, Daddy" when I left her room.
I lost the battle to stay away and found myself standing outside her room three times during the night.
I told myself it was professional. Making sure she was safe, calm.
But I have cameras in her room. I can check on her at any time on my phone, my computers, or one of the many observation stations throughout the main estate building.
The truth is, I stood outside debating whether to go in just to hear her breathing in the dark.
I didn't.
Instead, I went back to my office on the opposite end of the compound and stared at the plaque on my desk, willing the words to make sense like they used to.
By 3 AM, I'd given my head of security, Marcus, explicit instructions: check on her every thirty minutes and report back.
Lucky for him, he didn't ask why I was suddenly micromanaging a routine intake.
I’m not a man who’s ever been distracted by lust. I’ve indulged in the comfort and release of females from time to time, but it’s never been a compulsion.
But this girl.
As much as I fight the realization, I’m a man who does not believe there is benefit in masking the truth.
The first sight of her laying in that bed had my balls in a vice. If she’d reached out to touch me last night, I’m not sure I couldhave resisted. The urge to stuff her pretty little cherry cunt full of me nearly broke me.
I forced myself into bed,feelingher electricity surrounding me. For the first time since I came here after being forced out of the city for following my father’s orders, the bitterness I’ve carried like a tightening knot between my shoulder blades disappeared.
Every time I closed my eyes, those deep blue ones were looking back at me, that flush spreading across her cheeks, the soft "Yes, Daddy" that went straight to my cock.
I fought the erection all fucking night, and the two times I tried to take care of it, I couldn’t.
The practiced movements of my hand that usually elicit a climax easily within thirty to sixty seconds felt…flat. Disconnected.
Wrong.
So here I am, in my bedroom, looking out through floor-to-ceiling windows that frame a view of the infinity pool, the manicured gardens, and the lapping waves of the Mediterranean beyond.
I pour my fourth cup of coffee, battling back the hyperawareness my dick seems to have that she's awake somewhere in this compound.
That I told the staff to set her free, but not to allow her out of the house.
