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The blood drains from my face as I swallow down my rage. I’m such an idiot. My fears were valid. He doesn’t care about me. He wants to find a better woman. What on earth am I even doing here?
I climb off the bed in a fury. “It’s fine. I’ll go see the tower by myself.”
When I try to storm out of the room, he snatches me by the wrist and yanks me back, and I want to hit him. I’m so angry at him, and for what? For not giving me the attention I want? For not wanting me? This has all gone too far. The sooner I’m out of here, the better.
“No, you won’t,” he bites back.
“You can’t tell me what to do, Ronan. I’m an adult. You’re not really my daddy.”
A high-pitched yelp flies out of my mouth as I’m suddenly thrown onto the bed, landing with a bounce before he’s on top of me. The weight of his body is a welcome sensation, but in this moment, I’m too worked up and angry to enjoy it.
My wrists are pressed against the mattress by his hands as he hovers above me. “I told you not to call me that. Didn’t I?” he grits out before clenching his teeth.
This power I have over him is intoxicating. And I realize at this moment just how much control I have. I can have his attention and his time, even if I have to push his buttons to get it.
With a devious grin, I reply, “Or what? What are you going to do, Ronan?”
He leans closer until his mouth is just an inch from mine. “I’m going to put you over my knee and spank your ass until you learn.”
A wicked laugh bursts out of me as I smile up at him. “Sounds like something a daddy would do,” I tease in return.
With a tight expression, he lets out a growl, grinding himself against me. My body lights up with desire, my legs falling open as I welcome him between them, so close I know he can’t back out now.
I let out a whimper, tilting my hips to feel the rock-hard proof of his arousal against my core.
“What are you doing to me, Daisy?” he whispers as he lowers himself over me, his mouth going to my neck, instead of my lips, where I truly want it. When I feel his warm breath hovering over my skin, I’m afraid I might go crazy with need. He keeps my wrists in his hands, pressed into the mattress above my head. I’m squirming wildly beneath him and still, his lips won’t make contact with my skin.
“Please…Daddy,” I cry out in a high-pitched plea. I know it’s a form of manipulation, to use the one thing he can’t resist against him, but I’m growing desperate.
And it works. That’s what does him in. His eyes find mine and they are wild and hungry, rich brown irises gazing down at me, and I realize I’ve never wanted someone so much in my entire life.
His mouth crashes against mine like thunder. He tastes like bourbon andhim, warm and heady. I’m devouring his kiss like I need it to survive. Hips grinding, fingers grabbing, teeth biting—we are a mess of desire and lust.
I’m practically dying of pleasure already, just from the pure satisfaction of his touch and howgoodit feels to experience him finally letting go. This is happening, and I’m not going to let him stop.
But just as I reach for his belt, he rips his body out of my grasp. It’s like being doused in ice cold water.
“Fuck, Daisy,” he barks, standing away from the bed and glaring at me with anger.
“Ronan, don’t stop,” I beg as I sit up and reach for him.
“I told you not to call me that. Why won’t you just listen to me?”
He’s pacing the room, looking frustrated and disoriented, not at all like the confident, level-headed Dom he usually is.
Suddenly, I’m flooded with guilt. Ronan looks as if he’s mentally punishing himself for every move with me, and it’s my fault for playing on his weakness. Maybe he really does want to protect my innocence. Or maybe he’s really been hurt so many times, he’d rather have sex without emotions.
Either way, it kills me to see him hurting—knowing I’m the cause.
I quickly climb from the bed and close the distance between us.
Pressing myself against him, I rest my hands on his chest and gaze up at him with my eyes soft and pleading. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” I whisper. I’m not making a move to kiss him or touch him like we just were.
With a big exhale, he relaxes. I keep my hands there on his chest as I draw myself closer, resting my cheek where I can feel the erratic pounding of his heart.
His arms draw around me and he squeezes me tightly. And just like that, we feel like friends again. Or whatever we are—not quite friends, but not quite lovers either. After a few moments, he speaks.
“It’s not that I don’t want you, Daisy. You have to understandjust how muchI want you.”
