Page 19 of Claimed By Daddy
“You won’t. He’ll be mad at me. Not you.” His voice is steady—confident. His lips press to the back of my shoulder, and he promises, “And you definitely aren’t losing me. I’ll do whatever it takes to make him understand that you’re mine.”
“Maybe don’t use the word ‘mine.’” I laugh softly and kiss his forearm.
“But you are.” He loosens his tight hold and rolls me toward him. Cupping my face, he places a soft kiss against my forehead and another on my nose. His chestnut eyes meet mine, and even in the dim moonlight, I can see the warmth in them. “You are mine.”
“Yours,” I whisper, kissing the underside of his chin and nuzzling my face into his chest.
He lets out a contented sigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my back. “You should get some sleep. I know you’re tired.”
“Being Daddy’s fuck toy is exhausting,” I jest, feeling Enzo’s chest vibrate against my face when he laughs.
“But you do it so well.” His fingers dust along my spine as a lazy smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “Like you were made for me.”
“You’re just saying that because you want to sleep with me again,” I tease, with a playful slap on his chest.
“No,” he replies, brushing his thumb along my jaw. “I’m saying that because it’s true.” He doesn’t try to justify his words. He merely holds my gaze,his eyes saying so much that his lips aren’t. “Get some sleep, princess.”
I settle into him again, head tucked under his chin, body curled into his. His hand dusting tenderly over my back, long and slow strokes, lulling me closer to sleep. My ear pressed to his chest, I listen to the solid, strong beat of his heart beneath me and find myself growing slumbersomeagain.
“I’m glad you’re the one who had to stay with me, Daddy,” I murmur, already half-asleep.
“Me too, princess,” he whispers.
The front door closes hard enough to rattle through the apartment, yanking me from sleep like a slap to the face. I jolt, blinking against the bright early morning sunlight pouring through the windows.
“Enz!” Cillian’s voice booms through the apartment, deep and unmistakable.
“What?” I shout, still groggy, and my voice rough with sleep. My yell causes Eavan to grumble, stirring against me. “Shit,” I mumble under my breath.
Eavan.
In my fucking bed.
And her brother—already pissed off about something—is downstairs.
My groggy haze clears instantly, and I sit up, my pulse spiking. Eavan shoots upright, the blanket sliding off her bare chest and panic flashing across her face.
“Cian?” she whisper-shouts, scrambling to glance at the clock on the nightstand. “Shit! Enz! They weren’t supposed to be back this early.”
“I know,” I mumble, throwing off the blanket and hopping out of bed. Eavan is right behind me, tripping over my discarded pants and scrambling across the room, scouring for her clothes.
She finds what’s left of her dress and the shredded, sad remnants of her panties from last night—lifting them both and glaring at me accusingly, like I’m the reason she can’t put them back on this morning.I mean, she’s not wrong… and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.I open my mouth to apologize, but she shakes her head with a smirk and drops them back onto the floor.Clearly, she isn’t that upset. She grabs my gray dress shirt from last night and slips it on, quickly buttoning only what’s necessary. I have to force myself to turn away and avoid admiring how good it looks on her.Not right now.
I yank on a pair of gray sweats—without bothering to find boxers first—and grab a T-shirt from the dresser. In a few quick strides, I’ve crossed the room to where she’s standing and cup her face, dusting my fingers over her cheeks. “Wait a few minutes,” I softly instruct, “then come downstairs.”
She nods her understanding.
“Maybe stop by your room to change your shirt,” I add, letting a grin spread across my face. She looks down and groans, realizing that she can’t exactly parade around the apartment in my clothes without arousing suspicion.
“Shit,” she exhales.
“And obviously I like it, but… maybe also a really quick shower to wash off the smell of me. I’ll cover for you.” I press a kiss to her forehead, hoping to comfort her. “It’ll be fine, princess. I promise.”
She’s chewing at her lower lip—her adorable nervous tell—when I pull away. I grab my phone, finding five missed calls from Cillian, and shove it into my pocket as I cautiously open the bedroom door. Finding the coast clear, I slip into the hall and shut the door behind me. As my nerves start to get the better of me—worried that he somehow knows—I swallow hard before stepping from my door.
I take the first step down the stairs and immediately spot Cillian at the bottom, fists clenched at his sides and about to head up. “What the fuck?” he snaps. “You don’t answer your fucking phone?”
“It’s 7:00 a.m.,” I huff my reply. “Like a normal person, I was still fucking sleeping.”
