Page 44 of Consume Me

Now I had another problem to deal with. The truth was that although I prided myself on being a hands-on father, I had very little experience with occupying a dangerously mobile toddler while attempting other tasks.

Scouting the bathroom, I quickly shut us inside, spread the blanket of the floor, and then looked around for potential death traps. After I’d closed the door to the toilet, barricaded the linen closet and double checked for low-to-the-ground outlets, I finally stripped down to take a shower while Elizabeth occupied herself with a washcloth on the floor.

It wasn’t remotely relaxing, keeping one eye on my daughter, who was busy placing the cloth on her head like a hat, and trying to scrub off the frustration that seemed to coat my every limb.

This wasn’t what I’d signed up for. It wasn’t how my life was supposed to be. But I was here, she was here, and I needed to do better. Clara wouldn’t have avoided our child for days if I was gone. She wouldn’t have let someone else play mother.

I needed to remember that I was Elizabeth’s father—and that was a greater gift than some men ever knew. I was just rinsing shampoo from my hair when I opened one eye to discover the blanket abandoned. Before I could panic, I glanced down to find her face pressed against the shower stall. Smiling, I bent and placed my palm over hers. She fell back laughing. Then stood up and smashed her face against the glass again. This time I smashed my face, too.

I couldn’t hear her giggles over the running water, but I felt them flooding through me. It was warmth and joy and light. It was everything that I thought I’d lost—everything I thought was missing. But it had been here all along.

Someone had taken Clara, but they hadn’t taken our love. No one could do that. Elizabeth was proof of that. Nothing could ever diminish what I felt for my wife. That was why I was going to be okay—we were going to be okay. Our love existed within us. It fueled us. It drove us.

Nothing could extinguish it—and that’s what made us unstoppable.

After my shower, I threw on jeans and t-shirt. Elizabeth had begin to rub her eyes, so I changed her nappy and took her to her room. Maybe it was the tentative peace I’d made but I felt as tired as she looked.

The second I laid her into her bed, she reached for me.

“It’s okay, princess. Daddy’s going to be right here.” I sank into the nearest armchair and grabbed a book. There was no way I’d be able to nap in my own bed anyway. I’d only read her a few lines when my own eyelids began to feel heavy.

When I glanced over, I discovered her fast asleep, curled into a ball. I’d been looking for Clara—searching for my life, my heart—so hard that I’d forgotten I had a piece of it here.

“Come to bed,” Clara called to me softly.

I startled and looked over to the crib. “Maybe I should stay.”

“Penny will be here,” she reminded me, “and she’s going to be fine.”

I wasn’t sure if she was talking about our new nursemaid or our daughter.

“She might wake up,” I argued.

“She might,” Clara agreed, “and then we’ll come and get her.”

I’d been against moving her into her own room at night. We’d had Elizabeth in our room since she was born. Now nearly nine months later, Clara was putting her foot down and laying some boundary lines. I’d agreed to them in theory. Now that we were actually doing it…

Clara stepped into the room, allowing her silk robe to flutter open in invitation. “Alone time. Remember, X?”

Then there was that.

We barely made it across the hall before I’d torn the robe from her shoulders. Clara met my animalistic moves with a happy sigh as I lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed. Throwing her down, I pounced.

“Is this what you’re after?” I asked, dropping a hand between her legs.

Her head fell back as she moaned, but then she opened her bright eyes and shook her head.

“No?” I stopped only to have her push me away. Before I could process the rejection and what it meant, Clara was on her hands and knees crawling to me.

“This is what I’m after,” she crooned, running her palm over the thick outline of my cock.

“It’s all yours, poppet.” I lounged against the headboard as she unfastened my slacks and freed me. Clara’s eyes stayed on me as she lowered her mouth to the crown of my cock.

I loved watching her suck me off. I loved when she would pause and run her tongue over her lips like she wanted to savour the moment.

But there was one thing I loved more. Grabbing her, I lifted her up and set her over my lap. Clara didn’t resist. Instead, she circled her hips, sinking over me with delicious restraint.

Her eyes rolled back as I filled her in.