Page 64 of Daddies Dark Desires (Forbidden Fantasies)

The word shutters through him. He slowly unravels my hands from the sheets, pulls my legs off the side of the bed, but still I can’t stop the sharp inhales and half exhales.

And then, he leans me into his chest, one hand crawling into my hair.

Oliver doesn’t coo. He doesn’t promise things will be okay. He justis, like steel beneath my shaking hands.

“Your heart rate needs to come down, Harper. Focus on my voice.”

Those fingers of his massage the back of my scalp.

“You’re safe. You’re safe.”

I listen to his heartbeat and his even breathing.

“You’re right here, Harper. Here with me. You’re safe. Say it.”

“I—I’m safe.”

The tight pain in my chest starts to unwind, and I let my hands span across his lower back. Nestling into him has him pulling in a big breath, then his nose sinks into my hair at the top of my head.

All of the energy from my panic subsides into exhaustion, and we settle into this embrace for a few moments before Oliver starts to pull back.

“Don’t go.”

He stiffens but gives us enough space to look at each other. He nods toward the bed, and I scooch back, my lip already trembling from the thought of him leaving me anyway.

Then, he climbs into the bed behind me, leaning himself against my headboard and gathering me in his lap. That steady heartbeat resumes in my ear, his clean and soapy scent flooding me, and I let it calm me into sleep.

My dreams are warm and cozy.

When I lift out of the soft, slow dreams, I’m still cuddled up against Oliver, and he’s asleep. I’ve never seen him sleeping before. He actually looks peaceful. His dark brows sleek againsthis olive tan. The full bow of his mouth turns down into a steady frown.

His black hair is mussed across his forehead. All that dark and broody bad body energy smoothed into something a little more tangible.

It’s easy to admit to myself that Oliver influenced the Korean drama stage of my early teens.

I can’t help myself. I reach up and trace his bottom lip with my thumb.

He jolts awake, but his arms tighten around me, and the hardness against my thigh isn’t subtle. It’s a promise. One he hasn’t made yet.

His dark eyes penetrate mine, and I give up on waiting. My courage is as big as I’ll ever manage before I lean in to kiss him. It’s small and tentative. A test.

Is he going to stop me? Punish me for all the things I let Grant do to me?

Oliver’s mouth softens, then his hand sinks into my hair like it did last night.

He shifts under me or I shift over him until my knees slide around his hips. The slow, tentative kiss intensifies with the swipe of his tongue against my lower lip. Heat crawls up me when I let him into my mouth.

My hips drop into his, rubbing myself over his hard length.

He let me be vulnerable with him last night, and now I need to deliver on a promise to myself. Because I need Oliver.

I need him to touch me.

My hands twist into his t-shirt, and he nibbles on my lip. I open my eyes to see a flash in his pupils. Those skilled hands find my hips, taking control as he moves us together.

Our mouths fall from each other as he watches me, grinding himself against me as he prods my need into pleasure.

I don’t let myself suppress it. I want him to see everything he does to me. He deserves to see it.