Page 34 of Daddy’s Muse (Bloody Desires #12)

Colby

I couldn’t stop fidgeting on his lap. Every word he said settled heavy inside me, like they belonged there, but it was still hard to let myself believe them fully.

“You scare me,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “Not for the reasons you should scare me, but because I don’t think I could walk away, even if I needed to.”

Pappa’s eyes softened as he brushed a thumb over my cheek. “You’ll never have to walk away. I won’t give you a reason to.”

I swallowed, throat tight. “But you already have .” The words came out before I could stop them. His hand stilled against my face, and the silence that followed stretched too long.

“I know,” he said finally, voice rough. “I know what I’ve done, and I can’t undo it.

But Colby—” His hand pressed against his chest. “If I could give you every piece of myself to make you feel safe, I’d do it without hesitation.

I don’t care if I burn in every hell that exists—so long as you stay with me. ”

The sincerity in his tone made the tears start to fall yet again. I pressed my face into his shoulder, muffling the sound of my shaky breath.

“I don’t want to lose you,” I whispered against his skin. “You’re all I have. All I want.”

His arms tightened around me like he was holding the whole world together with his grip. “Then you won’t. I’ll never let you lose me. Never.”

We stayed tangled like that, both of us holding on too tightly, like we were both afraid the other might disappear. And even with the fog of fear and doubt still clinging to me, I couldn’t deny the strange peace that came with his heartbeat against my ear.

After a while, I shifted on his lap, restless and aching, like my body couldn’t hold all the feelings flooding me. His heartbeat thudded steady beneath my cheek, grounding me and undoing me all at once.

“I need you,” I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could second-guess them. They felt raw, stripped down to the bone. “I need you to prove I’m not wrong for choosing you.”

His large hand slid up my back, slow and tender, until it cradled the back of my neck. He tilted my head just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes burned with something fierce, something desperate, but gentled at the edges when they rested on me.

“You’re never wrong for wanting me,” he said, voice gentle. “Never wrong for needing me.”

The way he said it made my breath hitch. I wanted to believe him, wanted to feel it in my bones. I wanted to feel it deep inside. My hands clutched his shoulders as if I could pull the truth closer. “Then show me. Please, Pappa.”

His fingers stroked along my jaw, making me shiver at the contact, before his lips pressed against mine.

The kiss was soft at first, but underneath it was a hunger that matched the storm inside me.

Each brush of his mouth told me I was his, that he’d never let me go, that I could lean on him without fear of falling.

That he loved me.

Loved me, loved me, loved me, loved me, loved me.

I melted against him, tears still clinging to my lashes like morning dew, letting his heat soak into all the cracked places I didn’t know how to mend on my own. His hands steadied me, held me, reminded me I was wanted, cherished, needed.

Every touch, every kiss, wasn’t just about desire. It was about reassurance. About binding us together in a way words never could—forging an unspoken promise between our bodies.

I ground my ass against his hardening cock, earning a punched-out groan from him.

“Do you need to be fucked, kaninen min? You need your Pappa to fuck you into the mattress until your mind goes blank?”

I whimpered at his dirty talk, my dick throbbing. “Please, Pappa…”

Pappa nipped my ear, his hands sliding down my back to grab my butt. “Can you grab the lube from the drawer?”

I nodded and reached over to his nightstand, grabbing blindly at the contents of the drawer before my hand found a slim bottle. I presented my find to Pappa.

“Strip out of those pajamas, little one,” he commanded, taking the bottle of lube from me and pouring some out on his thick fingers.

I rose to my knees and pulled the shirt over my head, watching as my Pappa’s eyes darkened at the sight of my bare skin.

Albeit a bit clumsily, I shimmied the bottoms off, blushing as I saw the state of my penis.

It was standing at attention, flushed, and wet from my pre-cum.

Pappa’s jaw ticked at my blatant need, growing even harder in his pants. I watched, transfixed, as Pappa slipped his thumbs under his waistband and tugged down, causing his member to slap up to his abdomen lewdly.

“Come and rut against your Pappa’s cock, Colby,” he purred.

I lowered myself back onto his lap, hissing as our naked dicks rubbed together. Pappa drizzled lube over us, easing the friction. He lightly slapped my hip, urging me forward against him.

“Pappa, oh my god,” I whined.

A startled moan ripped out of me as Pappa pushed a slick finger into my hole, having reached around me without my notice.

“So fucking tight,” he growled, making me shiver. “Is this Pappa’s hole, min prins?”

“Yes, Pappa—yours! All yours,” I panted, my thighs beginning to quiver from the pleasurable frotting.

“Mm, that’s right. Good boy.”

I rocked back on Pappa’s finger. “More. I can take more,” I moaned.

Pappa smirked at me as he added a second finger, his pupils blown out with lust. I did that to him. I turned him on.

“Come on, baby, hump my cock. Get me good and ready for your ass,” Pappa grunted, crooking his fingers to find my special spot.

“ Pappa, there ,” I cried, almost losing it from the dual sensations of the front and back. He took my mouth in a passionate kiss, swallowing my moans.

I was breathless when he finally pulled back.

“Your hole was made to be fucked,” he said.

“God, Pappa, pl-please! Fuck me! I’m ready. I need it. Fill me, Pappa,” I begged, hovering on the verge of going delirious for his cock.

Pappa slid his fingers out and, without a word, slammed me down onto his length. My eyes rolled back in my skull, vision blurring, as I was suddenly filled to the brim.

My mouth hung open on a silent scream, my insides burning from the stretch. The intensity of it all was infinitely higher than in my fuzzy memories. Pappa gripped my hips tight enough to bruise as he thrusted wildly into me.

“Ah, P-Pappa—oh, oh, yes!”

“Faen i helvete! Fuck, baby,” he shouted, hitting something deep inside that made me feel lightheaded. “Such a greedy little hole.”

“Oh god,” I moaned, digging my fingernails into Pappa’s upper chest, clawing at him. “S-so d-deep!”

Sweat dripped from Pappa’s brow, his face flushed from the exertion. Letting go of my hips, he hooked his arms under my knees, raising my feet into the air.

I babbled nonsensically at the change in angle, feeling like he was carving out a space inside my gut. He was molding me, breaking me.

And it was so fucking good .

“I’m going to breed you, Colby. Gonna fill that belly with my cum.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I yelled, my own orgasm building fast, my balls tightening.

“Come with me, baby,” he ordered, voice strained.

“So close, so close!”

Pappa’s hips stuttered as he roared, spilling his seed into the deepest part of me. Breeding me, like he’d said. The heat of his release pushed me over the edge and left me free-falling, fireworks going off behind my eyes.

I collapsed as he released my legs, falling forward against his heaving chest.

We stayed there for a long time, panting for breath and limbs loose, silent in our shared afterglow.

Eventually, Pappa brought his hand to my face, resting his palm against my overheated cheek. I leaned into it.

“Jeg elsker deg,” he murmured. “I love you, my bunny.”

“Love you too, Pappa,” I whispered.

* * *

The warm water lapped against my shoulders, steam curling up around us and softening the edges of the world. I leaned back against Pappa’s chest, his solidity grounding me in a way nothing else could. The ache in my body from earlier felt distant now, dulled by the comfort of being held.

His fingers combed through my hair, slow and methodical, working the shampoo into a gentle lather. I closed my eyes, letting the sensation wash over me. He wasn’t rushed, wasn’t distracted—every touch was deliberate, like this simple act mattered as much as anything else.

“You always take such good care of me,” I murmured, my voice quiet, thick with drowsiness.

His chest rumbled with a low sound, almost like a hum. “That’s my job, sweetheart. My privilege.” His fingers stroked behind my ears, rinsing carefully, as though he thought I might break if he was too rough.

I let out a small sigh, the tension in my shoulders nonexistent. “Feels so nice,” I whispered.

“I like seeing you relax,” he said, his breath brushing my temple. “After everything… you deserve to be looked after. To be cherished. Spoiled. And I’m so thankful that I get to be the one to give that to you.”

I swallowed thickly, leaning further into him.

His hands slid lower, cupping water and pouring it gently over my head, rinsing away the suds. The warmth cascaded down my neck and back, and for a moment, I felt weightless, like I could float forever, as long as he held me.

I tilted my head back just enough to look up at him, meeting his gaze through the drifting steam. His eyes softened, and the corner of his mouth lifted in the smallest smile. “You’re my everything, Colby,” he whispered, like it was a truth carved into his bones.

Heat spread through me, not the kind from the bath, but something deeper, sharper, and yet so achingly gentle. I pressed my wet cheek against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“I love you so much, Pappa,” I breathed, soft and certain.

His arms tightened around me, protective and unyielding. “I love you too, little one.” The water sloshed softly as Pappa shifted beneath me. “Time to get out, sweetheart,” he murmured against my hair. “Before the water gets cold.”

I made a small noise of protest, not ready to leave the cocoon of warmth and goodness, but when his hands steadied my arms and guided me up, I obeyed. The slick porcelain was treacherous under my feet, and I clung to him instinctively.

“Careful now,” he soothed, stepping out first and offering his hand. I took it, letting him guide me onto the mat, his other arm braced around my waist until he was certain I was steady.

The air outside the bath raised goosebumps along my skin, but before I could shiver, he had a towel wrapped snugly around me, rubbing gently at my shoulders. He moved slowly, taking care to dry every inch of me.

“Pappa…” I whispered, not even sure what I meant to say.

He only kissed the crown of my damp hair and kept going, patting me dry as though each motion was proof of his promise to protect and nurture me. Once I was no longer dripping, he pulled a pair of soft pajamas from the counter—clean ones, neatly folded. I hadn’t even seen him bring them in.

“Arms up,” he said softly. I lifted them, and he slipped the shirt over me, tugging it down before crouching to guide my legs into my underwear and the bottoms. It should’ve been embarrassing, being fussed over like this, but it wasn’t.

It was safe.

Comforting.

Absolutely perfect.

When I was dressed, he ran a towel gently over my damp hair once more, then set it aside. “One more thing,” he said, brushing a knuckle against my cheek.

I blinked up at him, and he held out my toothbrush, already prepared with paste.

My face pinked, but I took it, standing obediently at the sink while he watched to make sure I brushed properly.

I caught his eyes in the mirror—so steady, so intent.

He wasn’t just making sure I did it; he was taking responsibility, like every small act was a crucial part of loving me.

When I rinsed and set the toothbrush down, he came up behind me, hands settling lightly on my shoulders. Our eyes met again in the mirror.

“All ready for bed,” he said, voice a soft rumble meant only for me.

“Because you took care of me, Pappa. Thank you.”

His arms slid around my waist from behind, pulling me gently against him, his chin coming down to rest atop my head. “Thank you , baby.”

Pappa kept one arm wrapped around me as we left the bathroom, guiding me to bed. He sat me gently on the edge of the mattress, pulling back the covers for me.

“Go on,” he murmured. “Climb in, sweetheart.”

I did as he asked, happily sliding under the cozy blankets.

The moment my head touched the pillow, a wave of exhaustion pulled at me, but I didn’t want to close my eyes yet.

Pappa tucked the blankets snugly around me, then settled beside me after handing me Pilsby to cuddle with. His hand stroked slowly through my hair, careful not to tug at the damp strands.

I stared at him in the dim light. My voice was small when it came. “What happens now?”

His hand paused for only a second before continuing. “Now,” he said quietly, “we rest. We take one day at a time. We figure it out together.”

The words should have felt vague, but somehow they steadied me. He wasn’t promising impossible things. Just… us .

Just moving forward.

“You really think we can?” My throat was tight.

“I don’t just think it, I know it because I won’t let anything tear us apart. Not even the hardest truths.”

I pressed my face against Pappa’s chest, breathing in the scent of him.

“Okay,” I whispered. “We’ll figure it out.”

His lips brushed the top of my head, lingering there. “That’s my boy. Now get some sleep, baby.”

And for the first time since everything had started unraveling, I let my eyes slip shut, knowing that—even if the world outside was dangerous and confusing—I wasn’t facing it alone.