Page 111 of Merciless Daddy

“You were honest,” I said. “You told me what you wanted.”

Her pencil stopped.

“You were brave enough to trust me with it.”

I smoothed her hair behind her ear.

“And you took your consequence beautifully. So yes, my little falcon. You were very good.”

She released a slow breath. Her body softened against my leg.

Five minutes later, the pencil slipped from her fingers. She slept with one hand resting around my ankle beneath my trouser cuff, as if even unconscious she needed to confirm I remained there.

I did.

The untouched hot chocolate cooled on the table. The firebird waited half-finished beneath the lamp. My cock had finally softened, but the ache in my chest had not.

I had been naked with women.

I had given pleasure. Taken it. Woken beside bodies I desired and left before breakfast without considering the departure a loss.

None of that had felt like this.

Yelena slept against my knee with her ass warm beneath an ugly blanket, trusting me to guard the vulnerable hours after surrender.

I understood then that tending to her was not what happened after intimacy.

It was the intimacy.

Perhaps the deepest kind I had ever known.

Chapter 10

Yelena

Sal woke me with one hand hovering above my shoulder, close enough that I felt his warmth before he touched me.

Even half asleep, I felt his restraint. His discipline. He had carried me to bed sometime before dawn. He could have shaken me awake. Instead, he waited until my eyes opened and I chose to look at him.

“Little one,” he said. “I have frustrating news. I think that we have to move away from here.”

The room was grey with early light. My body felt heavy. The place where he had spanked me remained warm beneath my pajamas, a deep tenderness that brought back his lap, his hand, and the ugly blanket wrapped around me afterward.

Then his words settled.

“Gianni? Because of him.”

“His people haven’t entered the building. But as we discovered, Astor Street is no longer secure.”

I pushed upright. Sal was fully dressed. Dark suit. Open collar. Gun beneath his jacket. The cut on his cheek had begun to close beneath fresh strips.

“What time is it?”

“Six-twelve.”

“Too early!”

He grinned. “Sorry, honey.”