“You promise?” She looks up at me, complete vulnerability swimming in her eyes.
I rest our foreheads together and make a vow against her lips.
“I promise, baby girl.”
CHAPTER 10
EDEN
I open my eyes to sunlight streaming into my room. Reaching out, I feel the cool, empty sheet beside me. The only clue that someone else was in my bed last night is the slight indent in the pillow and the subtle scent of cedarwood cologne—plus the ache between my thighs.
As I roll onto my back, I slap a hand over my mouth to stop myself from squealing. Maybe it was all a dream, my mind’s way of comforting me in Christian’s absence. Shaking my head, I sit upright and pull back the covers. The pink stain on the white sheet is all the evidence I need.
I had sex with my stepdad last night.
Just thinking about it makes me fall back onto my pillow with a contented sigh.
So this is what love feels like.
I remember how elated I was when I woke up and found him on my bed, touching my breasts and making my pussy ache. Then he started calling me his baby girl again, making me feel so good and special. Like something valuable he felt honored to touch, a piece of art meant to be handled reverently.
The combination of his tender touch and his dark, hungry gaze sparked a fire inside me. Even now, I still burn from the memory.
Everything about last night was perfect. He was so patient with me, so careful and deliberate, and the pride I felt when I managed to take his whole cock inside me, was like winning the lottery. He was so big, and he felt so good, and for the first few seconds, I was overwhelmed with so much pain and pleasure, I thought I might pass out. But I didn’t. I stayed lucid, and I enjoyed every second of my first penetrative sexual experience.
I can’t wait to do it again.
But the elation I feel isn’t just about the sex. Our connection flows so much deeper than pure physical attraction. I’ve never wanted to be this vulnerable with another person. I feel safe with Christian, like I can be myself completely, and there’s nothing I could do that would make him turn away. Likewise, I love every new thing I discover about him. I’ve forgiven him for pushing me away, and I trust that he means it when he says he’ll never leave me again.
Cradling my pussy with both hands, I roll onto my side. It’s wonderful that Christian and I can finally act on our feelings, though I’ll admit it hurt my heart when he had to return to his own cold bed. But I’ll keep our secret for as long as I have to if it means I get to be his baby girl when we’re alone.
I linger in bed until my stomach demands I get up and find some breakfast. After a quick shower to wash the scent of sex from my body, I gather up my sheets and quietly deposit them in the laundry room for the housekeeper to wash.
Following the smell of fresh coffee, I’m thrilled to find Christian working on his tablet in the kitchen, nursing his own steaming mug.
“Good morning,” I say, feeling the warmth rise into my cheeks.
Christian’s gaze pours over me like honey above the rim of his mug.
“Good morning, Eden. How did you sleep?”
“Very well, thank you.” I accept the cup of coffee he pours for me, letting our fingers brush. “How about you?”
“I slept better than I have in years.”
We share a conspiratorial smile. It takes a lot more mental fortitude than I thought it would to keep myself from reaching for him. But we aren’t alone in the house.
“Is Brittany up yet?” I ask.
“She left a little while ago to go hang out with some friends.”
I nod and take a sip of coffee, humming my pleasure as the sweet brew warms my bones. Christian watches me openly, his eyes saying everything that his lips cannot. Like how much he appreciates the sound I just made, and how badly he wants to hear me make it again, for different reasons. I flash him a smile that I hope conveys my desire to feel his hands on my body again.
He clears his throat. “Shall we move to the living room? I’d like to get another look at that tree.”
“Sure.” I force myself to stop thinking about all the ways I want him to touch me and follow him into the living room with my mug.
He settles down in a recliner while I claim a spot on the couch.
“You did a wonderful job decorating,” he says, with a glance around the room. “I take it you and your mother go all out for Christmas every year.”