After Emma finished scrubbing every inch of her skin until she came out smelling like a dream, she stepped into the dining room in a "casual" outfit that nearly made Thomas choke on his own spit.
She laid out the meal with a delicate touch, the savory aroma of the food mingling with the lingering, humid scent of her post-shower warmth.
To Thomas, it was a goddamn aphrodisiac, far more intoxicating than any five-star menu. He sat back, his dark eyes tracking the graceful movement of her slender fingers as she handled the silverware, a silent, predatory possessiveness simmering in his chest.
"Daddy..."
Emma broke the heavy silence, her voice flickering with a mix of hope and nerves.
"Have any letters from the universities come in the mail lately?"
Thomas's hand froze mid-air, his fork hovering. He wiped all emotion from his face, turning it into a mask of cold, carved marble.
When he spoke, his voice was a low, soothing purr, dripping with feigned concern.
"I don't want you losing sleep over that right now, my sweet... Just eat your dinner, okay?"
He watched the light fade from her eyes and took a slow, deliberate sip of water to hide the chilling smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You don't need to worry about school or breaking your back at some soul-sucking job, princess. This Daddy can take care of you for the rest of your life. Just live the way you want to live—whatever your heart desires, I'll make it happen with a snap of my fingers."
He leaned across the table, his piercing gaze locking onto her innocent eyes like a predator pinning its prey.
"Daddy! You can't just spoil me like this forever!"
Emma huffed, her cheeks puffing out in a pout that made him want to devour her right there on the mahogany table.
"Most parents are pushing their kids to grow up and stand on their own two feet!"
"And why is that a problem? Don't you like it when Daddy spoils you, baby?"
He let his voice go soft and honeyed, knowing exactly how to play her like a violin.
"I mean... I do... but it just feels wrong..."
she murmured, looking down at her plate, her bashful reaction making it nearly impossible for him to keep the beast on a leash.
"I don't want you going off to some campus, Don't go. Stay here with me. Stay in this house and be my one and only princess. That's all you'll ever need."
It wasn't a suggestion; it was a command wrapped in sugar.
"You're just being clingy!"
she giggled, teasing him, completely oblivious to the fact that she was dancing right into the trap he'd spent years setting.
"You just want me close so I can't go anywhere!"
"And is that so bad? Don't you want to be near me? Or... do you not love your Daddy anymore?"
He let his voice crack just a little, playing the pity card with master-class precision.
"Oh my god, of course I love you! I love Daddy more than anything in the whole world!"
The way the word "Love" fell from those plump, ruby lips... it was music to his ears, a siren song that stoked the gutter-low carnal fire in his gut.
Thomas smirked, the taste of victory sweet on his tongue. He reached out and stroked her hair with a deceptive tenderness, while his mind screamed with a beautiful, dark madness.
Emma would never know that every single acceptance letter from the country's top universities had already been hand-delivered—straight into the roaring flames of his office fireplace.
He wasn't going to let anything—not an education, not friends, and certainly not some little prick of a boyfriend—tear her away from his arms.
For Emma, the world outside was too big, too dangerous. The only thing she needed to learn, the only craft she needed to master, was how to be his perfect little wife and the mother of his goddamn children.
The living room was swallowed in a heavy silence, broken only by the flickering, ghostly light of a horror movie on the TV. Thomas was sprawled out, his head resting in the plush, soft cradle of Emma's lap.
The scent of baby powder mixed with the musky, sun-kissed warmth of her post-shower skin was a lethal drug to his senses. Her small, delicate fingers toyed with his hair, sending sparks of electricity straight to his gut.
"Don't go ripping my hair out when the jump-scares hit, sweetheart,"
he murmured, a slow smirk tugging at his lips.
"Why? Scared you'll go bald?"
Emma shot back, a playful giggle bubbling out of her.
"Damn right. I've got a reputation to uphold."
"Actually, that might be a good thing! Then all those thirsty women at the mall would finally stop tailing you. God, they're so pathetic."
That one sentence made Thomas bolt upright, abandoning the comfort of her thighs. He sat there, staring her down with a predatory glint in his eyes that he couldn't quite mask.
"Wait a second... are you actually jealous, princess?"
"Yes! I'm territorial! I'm not letting some trashy woman get her claws into my Daddy!"
She tossed her head back with a defiant, bratty pout.
"Honey... who else could I possibly love besides the girl sitting right here?"
He didn't just say it; he hauled her onto his lap, his powerful arms locking around her tiny waist.
He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent and planting heavy, lingering kisses on her cheek until she squealed, trying to squirm away from the tickling friction.
"Daddy! Stop! That tickles!"
"But you smell so good... I can't help myself."
He trailed his lips down from her cheek to the elegant curve of her throat, drinking in her youth like a starving man. Every fiber of his being wanted to throw her onto the sofa right now and bury himself inside her until the world faded away.
His hands were shaking from the effort of holding back. Emma, oblivious to the war raging inside him, leaned her head against his broad chest, her trust absolute, until her breathing eventually slowed and she drifted off into a deep sleep.
Thomas sat frozen, watching her innocent, sleeping face. But her body was a different story entirely. Those heavy, rounded breasts were heaving right in front of him with every breath she took, begging to be handled.
He glanced down at his own crotch; his cock was a rigid, throbbing pillar of heat, straining against his fly in a desperate protest.
He lowered her onto the cushions with agonizing care. His eyes raked over her lush, curvy frame, and he swallowed a thick lump of lust.
"Gosh... why do you have to be so tempting?"
he rasped, his voice a ghost of a growl. He hovered over her, straddling her frame without letting his full weight crush her.
His hand flew to his zipper, tugging it down until his thick, engorged meat sprang free, pulsing with heat. He braced one hand against the sofa and gripped himself with the other, starting a fast, brutal rhythm.
His breath hitched, coming in ragged, desperate gasps as the fantasy took over.
"Emma... Emma, baby..."
he breathed her name, imagining her waking up just to worship him. He guided the red, swollen head of his cock toward her soft cheek, grazing it against her skin and the corner of her ruby lips like he was teasing her with a forbidden treat.
"Ahhh... Daddy's little girl! I want you so bad... I want to bury every inch of this inside you!"
The friction turned intense as his climax roared toward the surface. The blaring TV drowned out his guttural moans. His entire body shuddered, pushed to the absolute breaking point.
"Ahhhhhhh—!"
He buckled as a thick, hot torrent of cream erupted from him, spraying with such force it splattered across Emma's lips and the side of her flushed cheek.
Thomas stood there, chest heaving, staring at his handiwork with eyes clouded by pure, unadulterated lust.
He grabbed a tissue, painstakingly dabbing away the evidence with a gentleness that belied the filth he'd just committed, making sure she wouldn't wake up to his dark secret.
He leaned down, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her forehead, the mask of the "Good girl" sliding perfectly back into place.
"I love you."
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Author note :
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Dark Romance by Sunisa