Page 28 of Fixate (Devious Mafia Daddies #2)

I would have laughed if my breath had not been frozen, if my heart had not completely stalled out because I had no clue what was going to happen next.

I had just purchased a toy, one that I had planned to use to prepare for the man currently staring a hole in the back of my head.

Of course, I didn't expect him to show up here because he said he would be busy all day. So now I was stuck with a load of secrets and a man who was very good at getting me to tell the truth.

"I'll be in touch, Candice.” I waved goodbye as I turned to leave.

At the door to the shop, Pharrell's eyes moved over me. He glanced at the bag for a moment before nodding and sliding his hand into mine. We didn't speak as we wove through patrons to the private elevator.

The second we were inside his home, he took me to the living room and pointed to the couch.

"Sit," he demanded.

I dropped onto the couch and put my bag in my lap. At the sound of the brown paper sack, he looked down at it. Again, but this time, his gaze was deeper, more curious.

"What do you have, mon chou?"

I swallowed the scream I wanted to let loose, not because I was scared or anything, more like I was ready to crawl out of my skin.

This question was heavy. I didn't know how to answer it. The truth would have been best, obviously, but the truth would also require telling him that I already had a collection hidden in the bedroom that he didn't know about.

Instead of saying anything, I did what any self-respecting coward would do. I opened up the bag, pulled out the item inside, and put it on the table.

Once it was there, he leaned over to pick it up. As his eyes scanned over the details of it, his body language changed. The aggression slipped out of him.

It was like he was relieved, like knowing that this wasn't something else made him so happy. It wasn't a smile, but I knew him well enough to know it was the next best thing.

When he glanced back up at me, his expression was full of heat. "Why do you have this toy?"

“Because I had been curious,” I said. “I wanted to know things, to prepare, and I didn't want to burden you with it.”

"Burden me? You have never been a burden," he said with a growl.

“I feel as if I am sometimes because I don't know much. You've had to teach me everything about this, from how we worked together to being the boy that you deserve.”

Like a whip, he reached out and grabbed my chin. He held me in place as he leaned forward.

We were a breath apart, as he said, in an urgent tone, "You are perfect as is. There's nothing more you need to do.”

I blinked away the tears that formed.

God, if he only knew what his words did to me, how deeply they unraveled me. I wanted to be perfect for him. I wanted to be his everything.

It was the craziest feeling.

The way that I could go and interrogate men and beat the problems out of them but wanted to come home and lay bare for him to use me as he pleased.

“I have not been a good Daddy to you if you think that you need to do more. If you question whether or not you're good enough.”

I shook my head. “It's not you at all.”

He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, silencing me. As he pulled back, his forehead pressed against mine, and his hands let go of me.

“It is on to me, because as you said, you don't know how this all works. Everything you're experiencing is new, and I should have known better than to leave you guessing. These toys you speak of, where are they?” he asked.

I took a deep breath in, throwing up as much courage as I could before exhaling and pointing down my hall. “They're in my room. As to how many are there, I haven’t counted.”

He pulled away, and his expression was full of shock. I had never seen him so surprised by something I'd said.

“You lost count?”

I nodded. “It's not something I tried to track.”

The words left me when I felt him grab my hand and tug me upwards. He picked up the device from the table and tore off down the hall.

When he reached my room, he threw the toy on the bed and let go of my hand.

“Pull them out now. I want to see everything.”

I rushed to do as he said, partially because I was quite aroused, and also because I could sense tension just beneath the surface.

He was a second away from losing the little composure he had.

I wasn't sure if me getting them out would help or hurt, but I had to do something. I went to all the places I had stashed them, pulling each out one by one. I laid them on the bed in a row, then stepped back and winced.

"Eleven," he whispered softly. "Eleven toys you've hidden from me?"

I cleared my throat. "Ten, actually. Um, eleven with the new one."

I laughed nervously as I tried to push down my fleeing sensation. My self-preservation was at an all-time low.

It's the only reason I could use for explaining how I managed to stay in the room with a clearly frustrated Pharrell.

As he trailed his fingers over each item, I fought back the need to whimper. I wanted to show him just how much I had been working for him, how hard I had tried to prepare myself.

Because the truth of the matter was, all my work meant I was pretty much ready to take him.

I spent every available second I could have to stretch my hole, whether that be the middle of the day or coming home for lunch or even staying up late at night after he went to sleep and sneaking into my room for some practice.

Every minute I could spare went to being what he wanted and needed. Or at least what I suspected that would be.

Daddy turned, his gaze liquid fire as he stared me down.

"You've been very naughty, mon chou. I think it's time that Daddy showed you what happens to naughty boys who play without Daddy's permission.”

I gulped as my body came alive. My cock hardened, and I let out a soft whimper.

Pharrell stepped forward, his finger grazing down the side of my cheek. “Would you look at that? My boy likes the idea of punishment. Let's see if he still likes it when I'm done.”