Page 18 of Your Daddy Does It Better
“A word?”
“If you want me to fuck you, you need a safe word. The word stop or no isn’t enough for the shit I’m into. I fuck like an animal. If we do this, I’ll want to rip you apart and mark every inch of you. The shit I’ll do will be scary, and I honestly don’t know how you’ll react.”
Her chin juts up, and she crosses her arms over her chest, staring me directly in the eyes. “I’ve lived with monsters my whole life, Bryce. I can take it.”
Anger flares in my chest. She doesn’t get it. I don’t want to beat her or force her. What I’ll do to her will be consensual. It will bring her pleasure. That she’s confusing the two irritates me.
I stride forward, and she retreats. Her back hits a tree as my body covers hers. She’s got nowhere to run. “The men in your life burned you to make themselves feel superior because they weren’t worthy of you. I’ll burn the world and make you the queen of the ashes just to see you smile. If I have to, I’ll cut out my heart to make you whole.” I trail my nose along her neck, inhaling her unique scent—a mix of Dove soap and something distinctly her, pure, strong, and beautiful. “I don’t want to hurt you, Isla. I want to fuck the breath out of you. I’ll make you call out for God and beg for the Devil.”
My hands roam along her sides, loving how her softness fits in my palms. I want to mark her skin, not in anger, but in pleasure, desire and need. “Protecting and providing for you is all I need, Isla. I don’t need to hurt you to prove I’m a man. And not just any man.Yourman. I’ll do everything and anything, break laws and cross boundaries to prove I’m yours. But you have to trust me. That’s the only thing I ask for—your unwavering trust.”
“I’m not sure Icantrust.”
My lips hover by her ear. “All I want is for you to try. Let me prove to you that you can trust me. Allow me to show you that a real king worships his queen.”
Isla’s breathing speeds up as she tentatively lifts her arms around my neck. “What if I can’t do this?”
“Your words are unsure, but I smell the want of your sweet pussy, Isla. Your body wants to give in to me.”
“My body is a treacherous bitch,” she mumbles. “It’s a little fucked up to want to have sex with someone after you just offed your own kid.”
“As I’ve said, I’m thoroughly fucked up.”
Her hand shakes as she points behind me. “His eyeless body is right there. You realize that, right?”
I know I should feel shame or sadness, but I don’t. I feel the same as when I killed my father. Nothing. Perhaps I’m a psychopath, but I learned long ago that I am who I am. I do what needs to be done, and I don’t agonize over my actions. “Had Paul stayed away, he’d be living his life in bliss far away from you. I warned him what my solution would be if he pressed the situation. He came after you, and I kept my word. One thing about me, Isla, is that my word is finite. It’s my character, my honor. Paul understood what would happen. He just mistakenly assumed he’d be the victor in the war.”
I haul her to me, pulling her away from the tree. “Now, how about you pick that safe word?”
“So when I use that word, you’ll stop?”
“Immediately.”
She lowers her gaze to the ground. I tilt her chin so she has to meet my eyes and brush her dark hair away from her face. “I’m not them. I may like to fuck like an animal, but you will always take priority over my needs.”
Her eyes cut into my soul like razors. I don’t know what I’ll do if she says no. Can I let her go? Can I change to be what she needs? My gut twists at the idea of not having her. I’m not sure Icouldlet this girl go. I don’t understand why she’s different from other women, why I’d give up everything for just a moment with her. But here I stand, in the middle of the woods, with blood-covered hands, praying to a god I don’t believe in that she’ll say yes.
“Spaghetti.”
I stare at her blankly. “You’re hungry?”
Her mouth twitches. “No. That’s my safe word.”
Joy bursts into my dark soul as I step away and observe my prey. “Okay, then. Time to run, little rabbit. Run.”
ChapterSixteen
ISLA
Like an idiot, I don’t stop to question Bryce. But I suppose that makes sense with my history. When told to run, I always run. It’s a habit born of self-preservation, a way to ensure I’m not harmed by the monsters that have driven the story of my life.
The bright sun warms my skin, but I still feel the draft of the cold since Bryce is no longer touching me. My feet kick up the dirt as I maneuver through the trees.
Bryce’s voice calls to me from a distance. “Ready or not, here I come.”
A childhood phrase to begin a childish game, but I suspect that what Bryce has in mind when he catches me won’t be child-friendly.
My lips turn up, and my heart carries a foreign sensation—joy. I’m having fun running away from him. I guess this is what it’s like to be chased by a man who doesn’t want to end your life.
