Daddy's Worst Nightmare Page 4

  It goes on forever, until I know I’ve coated her womb more than once and I collapse beside her limp body. Once I’ve recovered enough to get a decent breath, I pull her into my arms, close as I can get her.

  “I’m sorry about the tantrum,” she whispers against my shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll have any more now.”

  “That would be a shame now that we know how to stop them.”

  I feel her mouth curve into a smile. “You like…all of me, don’t you, Damian?”

  “Like.” I shake my head and pull her tighter to my chest, letting her hear the wild riot of my heart. “No. I love all of you, Arya.” Finding the robe, I secure it around her shoulders and belt it, carrying her from the room against my chest. “Let me show you how much.”

  5

  Arya

  There are pictures of me in every room of the house.

  And most of them were taken through my old bedroom window.

  In some of them, I’m working on my laptop. In others, I’m reading in bed with very little clothing on. Occasionally, as Damian carries me through the house, we come across pictures that consist of nothing but the curve of my elbow, her slope of my bottom, my lips, the triangle of underwear between my thighs. And when we reach his office, I’m completely nude in every single snapshot.

  “I used to imagine you knew I was watching. That you were undressing just for me, putting on a show and letting me look, trying to convince me to come and get you.” He exhales into my hair. “I almost gave in so many times. Especially when you seemed sad. I hated it.”

  I’m a levelheaded girl. I know I’m supposed to be worried by Damian’s clear obsession with me, but I’ve been obsessed with him for more than half my life. Even when I couldn’t see him, I knew he was there. I’ve depended on him. When I was alone and scared, his invisible presence made me feel safe and nothing has changed. I’m not surprised by the pictures, because all along, I sensed him watching me.

  Walking through this place that houses the proof I wasn’t crazy all this time?

  It’s more comforting than I could ever imagine.

  And with every step through this beautiful house, my affection for him deepens and pushes out at the sides until I wonder if it’ll ever settle. Ever stop multiplying.

  When we reach the orange grove, I know for sure it won’t.

  There are a dozen trees under a glass dome and it’s hot and humid inside. But even as dew begins to prickle on my skin, all I can do is marvel. “How did you do this?” I ask, wiggling until he reluctantly sets me on my feet. “Orange trees on Long Island…”

  He nods at the thermostat on the wall, then goes back to watching me vigilantly from beneath his eyelids. “It’s temperature controlled. And I have the soil shipped in from Florida.”

  I take a huge whiff of the air and wrap my arms around myself giddily. “It smells like you, Damian.”

  “It smells like us,” he says in a gruff voice, circling around the back of me, his intense regard making my spine tingle. “Arya, I have to speak with you about something important.”

  “Okay…” I draw out, laughing nervously. “You can talk to me about anything.”

  Even while rescuing me from a sniper and blackmailing my father, Damian was cool as a cucumber. For the first time, he actually seems like his composure it slipping. “I’m worried…” He shifts his stance. “I’m worried you’ll run from me.”

  “I would never,” I whisper.

  If possible, his eyes grow even more grave. Intense. “I grew up poor. I only got half an education because I was too busy working to support my family. But that day I met you on the subway steps, I knew I had to find a way to claw my way up. You made me believe I could and I wanted you to be proud of me, as crazy as that sounds. You were only a child.” He pauses. “I vowed to protect you from that day on, but then…ah, sweetheart, then you grew up and the need to prove myself, to build my fortune, it got a lot more urgent. It wasn’t just that I adored you, now I had to make you my wife or I’d go fucking insane. So I clawed. And that involved…killing. Contract killing at first. And then I started hiring my own guys. Started hiring them out for protection when they weren’t completing contracts. Then I expanded into gambling. This house was built with illegal money, but I can’t regret a single second. I can’t, because you’re here now and I’d do it all over again. You are mine. You’ve always been mine.”

  “Yes. I am.” I go toward him, running my hands up the front of his chest. “I might be sheltered, Damian, but I know my father and his associates are just as corrupt as the men they prosecute. I hear the deals he makes, deals that hurt the people he’s meant to serve. Just because his corruption is prettier doesn’t make it better.” I go up on my toes and kiss his chin, his cheek, his mouth. “And maybe you’re a killer. Maybe you are a little—or a lot—bad. But you’re not bad to me.”

  “Never,” he vows, dropping his forehead into the crook of my neck. “Never, never.”

  “Since you did all this for me, Damian…” I tease the button his jeans with my fingertip. “Let me claim a little responsibility. That way we can be bad together.”

  “No.” He surges forward and takes my mouth in a fervent kiss, his hands plowing into my hair to move me how he wants me. “No, you’re too sweet.”

  “Then I can be sweet enough for the both of us,” I whisper.

  He pants against my mouth while unzipping his jeans. I’m still reeling at the sight of him, thick and ruddy, protruding from a nest of black hair, when he reaches up and plucks an orange from one of the trees. He takes a bite and spits out the peel, then squeezes the orange over his erection, leaving it dripping in juices. I’m quaked by the inundation of lust inside me and it triples when he strips off his shirt, revealing a climbing wall of flexing muscle and sinew.

  And there across his belly, my name is tattooed in blue ink.

  “Damian,” I whisper, shaken.

  His shaft stretches and lifts when I say his name. “Redeem me, Arya.”

  You’re going to wrap your pretty mouth around my big bad cock so often, it’s going to taste like home.

  I recall him telling me this in the SUV, but it was a someday thing. A skill to be learned later. But with the moment upon me, I am so eager to taste him, I shock myself by peeling the robe off my body and dropping it, falling to my knees in front of him and nuzzling my face in his lap. “Tell me what to do,” I whisper, looking up at Damian.

  His eyes are almost black with arousal, chest heaving.

  He grips a fistful of my hair and guides me closer. “Just suck the juice off for me, sweetheart.”

  My lips stretch around his hard pole and as usual, the scent, the very hint of oranges makes my nipples bead, only now I know why. I know why my folds grow slick and why I writhe my hips up and back in the air while bobbing my mouth up and down on his thickness. His groans encourage me, as does his hand shaking in my hair.

  “Oh fuck, Arya. Jesus. I can’t believe you’re here, sucking me off. Doing it so well, too, aren’t you, sweetheart?” His hips jerk up and back, spearing himself in and out of my mouth. “That’s my girl. That’s a good girl. A little deeper for your man. Please. Please. Just another inch.”

  After only a few minutes with Damian in my mouth I’m already addicted. Having this powerful man shudder and gasp at the tiniest lick of my tongue or stroke of my hand. I’m never going to get enough of it and I show him that by opening my throat, letting him in deeper until I choke, tears springing to my ears, but it’s worth it. So worth it when he barks a curse and pulls out, my name heaving on his stomach.

  He goes down on his knees and spins me around, pushing me forward onto my elbows. “Bend over and give me that tight pussy to finish in. Now.” His chest presses down on my back, his hot breath filling my ears, and then he fills me in one savage thrust. And he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t pause for even a second before he’s hammering into me, forcing screams from my throat that echo around the enclosed orange grove. “I wasn’t lying
when I said I was worried you’d run from me. But you want to know a secret?” He sucks the side of my neck without gentleness, no doubt leaving another mark. “I was only worried you’d try. You wouldn’t have gotten far. The walls are high, my love. My obsession. You’re never getting away from me.”

  God help me, that admission, delivered as his hips slap loudly against my bottom, makes my sex tremble and clench, release stampeding through me and leaving me facedown and sobbing while Damian works in and out of my spent flesh, finishing with a shout of triumph.

  “I love you,” he grates into my neck, his sweat dripping onto my back and rolling down my spine. “You get one more surprise before I feed you and put you to bed.” He rolls me into his arms, stands and strides from the grove. “We’re getting married in the morning and I want you to be well rested.”

  My mouth is hanging open. “Married? Tomorrow?” I sputter. “Where?”

  “The courthouse.” His throat works. “The idea of a big wedding makes me too nervous, Arya. I don’t want that many people around you.”

  I’m in shock from the fact that I’m going to be a married woman tomorrow. So when Damian settles me on my feet and opens the door to a room we haven’t been inside of yet, at first I don’t realize what I’m seeing. Until the barking starts.

  Four little fur balls bound toward me, my eyes fill with tears and I swear they can hear my heart pounding on the moon.

  “Puppies!”

  6

  Arya

  The next morning, I get to take puppies for a walk! For the first time!

  Damian follows me with his hands clasped behind his back, a smile tipping up the edges of his mouth while I giggle my way along the grounds, watching the pups nip at each other’s ears and roll around in the grass. When they’ve been fed and their business is complete, Damian brings me to the kitchen where I’m surprised to find a middle-aged woman named Josephine making us omelets. She’s warm and kind and I like her instantly. Over breakfast, Damian explains she’s a woman from his old neighborhood who let him sleep in her enclosed porch on nights his father kicked him out for not bringing home enough money.

  I decide to love her.

  After Josephine leaves, Damian pushes back his chair at the table and crooks his finger at me. I ride him while he grips my butt cheeks, directing me, bouncing me, uttering filth against my mouth and by the time we’re finished I’m slumped and sated against my future husband, a thousand times happier than I’ve ever been in my life.

  On the way to the city, I find myself straddling Damian’s lap once again, writhing up and back on what he now makes me call his cock. This time we go slowly, exploring each other’s mouths thoroughly, groaning, my hips grinding up and back, circling in teasing patterns, Damian’s teeth biting at my nipples, suckling reverently, leaving more and more marks on me…and I start to love it. I start to pull at his hair and beg to be marked and that’s when he throws me down on the seat and takes me hard, our flesh slapping together, his mouth suctioned to my neck, the windows fogging up around us.

  We pull up outside of the Long Island courthouse and I do my best to fix the lacey, cream-colored dress I picked for the occasion, though my panties are ruined from being ripped off. Note to self: start traveling with an extra pair. Damian wears black slacks, a blue-gray button, a black tie and sunglasses. So. Insanely. Sexy. And in charge. And all mine. We haven’t even gotten out of the SUV yet and I’m already excited for the ride home.

  I’m excited about the whole life ahead of us.

  Me and my guardian angel.

  “You stay here for a few minutes,” he murmurs, kissing my mouth, tucking some sex mussed hair behind my ears. I’m sitting on the edge of the backseat and he’s standing in the open door, his hard body wedged between my legs. “I want to go check it out, make sure it’s safe enough to bring you in.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be safe?”

  His eyes darken. “I have a lot of enemies, sweetheart. Your father is one of them now, too. I was discreet about getting the marriage license and I purposely applied for it outside of his jurisdiction, but there’s always a chance he could find out I’m about to marry his little girl and try to stop it. I’m willing to bet he spent the night finding out everything there is to know about me and…” I hear him swallow. “If he even has an inkling of my past, he might be regretting letting you leave with me.”

  “No one is going to take me away,” I say, smiling to reassure him. “We’re getting married today. Try to look less terrified.”

  “I just want the ring on your finger,” he breathes. “I want it official so I can bring you back inside my walls where it’s safe.”

  “What about a honeymoon?” I tease him.

  “Don’t start, Arya. All those fucking people around my girl…”

  “Eventually you’ll have to let me out, Damian.” I brush my fingertips up and down on the back of his neck. “I lived in a glass prison before. I love our house, but I want to see the world.” I kiss his nose. “Or even just the Hamptons.”

  He seems to be taking my words to heart. “I’ll work on it.”

  “We’ll work on it.” Emotion tickles my throat and my chest suddenly feels like a tight-packed chamber. “I love you.”

  His breath releases in a rush, his eyes taking on a beautiful sheen. “That’s the first time you’ve said it.”

  “It is? But I’ve loved you for so long.”

  “Say it more often then,” he rasps, taking my face in his hands and kissing me hard. Kissing me until I’m whimpering and trying to wrap my legs around his hips. “Please.”

  I nod, breathless as he pulls away. “I will. I promise.”

  He shoves away from the SUV, seeming torn over leaving me, even though there are two guards in the front seat, on the other side of the partition. “Stay here. I’m leaving two men. The doors are locked and the vehicle is armored. Nothing can touch you if you just stay inside.”

  “Okay.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  The door closes and locks. Damian tests the handles. Three times.

  He’s only leaving me for a few minutes, but the bright anxiety in his eyes tells me he’s already on the edge and I hope he gets back soon. I don’t like him being worried.

  Through the windshield, I watch Damian and a group of his men move toward the courthouse and up the steps, where they disappear inside. I lean back against the seat and sigh, dreaming up names for our puppies. Maybe we can name them after the four seasons or the Beatles. I’ll have to ask Damian what he thinks after the ceremony—

  A flash of black in my periphery captures my attention.

  I sit forward, staring dumbfounded at the man who moves at a fast clip on the sidewalk. The sun catches a gleam of metal inside his suit coat. He’s sweating and staggering a little bit, like he’s had too much to drink—and I know full well what that looks like.

  Because it’s my father.

  “No,” I cry out in the silent car when he pulls the gun out of his jacket. “No, no, no…”

  He’s going to shoot Damian. I know it with every fiber of my being.

  Somebody has to warn him.

  I bang on the partition but my fists are muffled. Is it soundproof? It stands to reason that it must be after everything we’ve been doing back here. If the guards aren’t already out of the SUV, they must not have noticed my father pass with the gun.

  Do I have time to get out and explain it to them? They might refuse to leave me and save Damian, as per their boss’s instructions.

  I have to warn him. There’s no other choice.

  If I had a cell phone, I would call him, but I can’t even remember if I packed it and anyway, I don’t have his number.

  My father has too far of a head start now. I have to move.

  Pain grabs onto my lungs like tentacles and won’t let go even as I break Damian’s rule and throw open the back door, hurtling myself out into the parking lot. I run at breakneck speed towar
d the courthouse, my father having disappeared inside only a few seconds before. My pulse is going a thousand miles an hour in my temples and my breath is emerging like winded sobs, but I have to reach Damian.

  He’s been my guardian angel so many times. Now it’s my turn to be his.

  I can’t let him down and I can’t let him die.

  “Hey!” one of the guards yells from the SUV, doors being thrown open. “Arya! Get back here!”

  No. No, I can’t stop. When I enter the courthouse, I’m not sure which direction to go, but I see a few people staring down a back hallway and know they must be wondering about the lumbering drunk man. So I sprint in that direction, fear clogging my throat.

  I catch the very tail end of my father’s foot as he steps into a room labeled “county clerk” and I run for everything I’m worth. Because I know Damian is inside that room. Male voices rise ominously just as I round the corner, my gaze searching frantically for Damian among the black suits, and there he is. There he is.

  I hear my father say, “She found the pictures. My wife. She knew I wouldn’t have let Arya leave without a good reason. So you got what you wanted in the end, didn’t you? I’m fucking ruined! I’m not going down alone, though.”

  Damian is looking at my father, but his gaze travels to me and fills with stark fear. Denial. And in rushes the madness, turning his eyes all but black. “Arya!” Damian bellows. “Get out of here. No. NO!”

  But I can’t stop running.

  I would have died when I was fourteen if it wasn’t for this man.

  Or when I was fifteen. Sixteen.

  He’s devoted his whole life to protecting me, giving me a place to call home, and I love him. I’ve loved him since I was six, even if that love has evolved drastically over time. I wish I had time to tell him all of this, but my father is already raising the gun, pointing it at Damian. His men are too confused by his yell to notice my father, though some of them are becoming aware and drawing their own weapons, too slowly, though. Too slow.