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My knees nearly buckled as all the blood in my body rushed straight to my hardening dick. As happened every time she used that name, I became helpless to do anything but shift into the role. And if I was honest with myself, I didn’t try to stop it. “Why can’t you simply be a good girl?”
“I tried that, but all you do is ignore me. Being bad is the only way to get your attention.”
“Your behavior disappoints me.”
“You disappointed me first. You’re not a very good daddy.”
A growl slipped free as her accusation sliced through me. She wasn’t wrong, but it still hurt. “My palm will be raw by the time I’m through giving you what you deserve.”
“Do it. Give it to me. I need it.”
Unable to stop myself, I gripped her by the hair and forced her to look up from where she’d trained her gaze on the floor. “Insolent.”
“Yes.”
“Spoiled.”
“Yes.”
“Stubborn.”
“Yes.”
“Mine.”
“Yes, Daddy. Yours.”
A groan ripped from my throat as I bent down and stole a kiss. There was nothing kind or gentle about it. It was a claiming. A message. This woman belonged to me. I would own her. Body. Heart. Soul.
Everything stopped as my ears picked up the distinct sound of a rapid heartbeat in the room with us. Not hers. Not mine. I released her, backing away. There it was, clear and strong. A reminder of exactly how I’d failed her already.
A message from God the second I needed it most. A reminder of why I needed to stay away from her. Of my true purpose. My redemption.
“Put your fecking clothes on and get out.”
Her eyes widened at my tone, and her resolve cracked. “Caleb... this is what we need. It will help put everything back into perspective. Make me yours. Remind me who owns my body.” She reached for me, but I took three more rapid steps back.
“What Ineedis for you to leave me. The fuck. Alone.”
Tears pooled in her eyes and my heart splintered. If she didn’t leave right now, I’d break. I’d pull her into my arms and make love to her until the sun rose. She could drag me straight to hell, and I’d have a smile on my face while we went.
“Now!” I thundered, desperation lending my voice a strength I didn’t remotely feel.
I needed her to be the one to walk away. I wasn’t strong enough to do it myself. It had to be her. It was the only way.
Her body trembled as she gathered her discarded clothes and slowly dressed. She wouldn’t look at me. It was the least I deserved.
As she left my quarters, she glanced over her shoulder, heartbreak written on her face. “I love you, Caleb. Even when you make me hate you.”
She walked out, shutting the door so gently it was almost worse than if she’d slammed it. Hating myself for how low I’d sunk, I picked up my coffee table and hurled it at the wall. I watched it break and shatter like the pathetic pieces of my heart.
What was the point of trying to regain my soul when I wouldn’t have her to complete it in the end?
