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The mattress beneath her was soft and for the first time in years, someone was holding her.
Him. Derek.
She touched her ear. It was tight to her skull and hurt when she pinched it. She wasn’t fighting in a paramilitary tournament, and she wasn’t dreaming. She was twenty-eight and a multi-millionaire and she’d just spent the night in her ex-boyfriend’s arms.
She didn’t have her phone, but the sky outside was light, so it had to be dawn. Rain still poured and as she snuggled into Derek’s arms, Mara felt impossibly safe. She’d slept without waking at all, which was rare for her.
Derek made a humming sound. She turned and stared at his sleeping face. His blank eyelids seemed oddly unprotected. He shifted, his upper lip twitching.
As she watched, Mara was aware of a deep thrumming in her chest. An ache that was different from her past longings. She moved close, pressing her nose to his collarbone. He made another soft noise. “Mara?”
She bit the tattooed meat of his upper arm.
Derek chuckled, his voice thick with sleep. “Good biting, Little Miss.”
She buried her face in his sheets. She felt silly, but it was the beautiful kind of silly. “Thanks.”
Derek cupped her chin, tilting her face to his. “Want Daddy to kiss you good morning?”
“Maybe….”
He pressed a soft, sweet kiss to her lips and Mara sighed.
Derek’s hand slid away. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Say ‘good morning, Daddy.’”
“I…”
“Just say it, baby.” His voice was hoarse. “Be a good girl and say it.”
Then the words flowed, natural as honey. “Good morning, Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he said and crushed his lips to hers.
It was like a great unlocking. They kissed as they undressed together, Mara shifting as she tugged down her underwear and pulled her t-shirt over her head. Their mouths melted, their bare legs entwining under the covers. Derek moved down her body, kissing her breasts, her stomach, the flat place above her cunt. Then he moved between her legs, the flick of his tongue making her eyes roll back. “Daddy, no.”
“Shh, baby. Let Daddy kiss your flower.”
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