Page 119 of Scaled Daddy's Secret Heir
“Yes,” I say. “Gods, yes.”
He shifts, guiding himself to my entrance with a hand that trembles only slightly.
And then he’s inside me.
Slow.
Steady.
Stretching me open like it’s the first time.
And maybe it is.
Maybe this is the only time that counts.
He groans, low and broken, as he bottoms out.
I clench around him involuntarily, and the sound that leaves him isnotpolite.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You feel…”
“Don’t you dare say tight like a cliché,” I gasp, grinning through the heat in my face.
His laugh is a scrape of joy against my skin.
“I was gonna say—like coming home.”
And gods help me, I break.
Right there.
Tears slip sideways from the corners of my eyes, not from pain, not from fear—just from the unbearable weight ofbeing held like this. Of being wanted like this. Of beingknown.
He notices.
Wipes them with his thumb.
Kisses me like a promise.
Then moves.
He fucks me like we’ve got time.
Like every thrust is a conversation, every pause a breath between syllables.
His cock glides deep, thick and unhurried, filling me in a way that makes me tremble.
There’s no rush. No frenzy. Justpresence.
“Still good?” he murmurs.
I nod, then gasp as he hits just right. “Betterthan good.”
My legs tighten around him.
His rhythm shifts—deeper now, more deliberate. He braces one hand beside my head and the other spreads low across my belly like he’s holding something precious.
“Can I—?” he starts.
