“You aren’t going to turn me over to him?” she asked. The surprise in her tone cut at him. Of course she’d be afraid that he would do just that. He’d been contemplating it since he became convinced she wasn’t as little as she appeared.
But so much had changed.
The rules of this game had morphed into…
Well…things had changed.
“Fuck no.” He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefingers. “You belong to me, Ariana. No one else will ever touch you or take you.” He sealed his claim over her, pressing a hard kiss to her lips. Moving his hand from her chin, to cupping the side of her face, he deepened the act, brushing his tongue across her bottom lip then sweeping into her mouth. She moaned against his mouth, pushing herself further up his lap and matching his energy. Her fingertips touched his jaw.
When he broke away, the fear and desperation in her gaze had been replaced with hope. New tears built in her eyes, shining and clear.
“I thought you were going to hand me over to him.” She sighed and gestured toward the window. “I’m sorry about the chair.”
He leaned over to get a better look. Two of the legs had broken off in her attempt to break free.
He shook his head. “How the hell am I going to explain that?” he muttered. “And what the fuck did you think you were going to do? We’re on the third floor, Ariana. Were you going to leap to your death? If you hadn’t broken your neck—you’re naked. Were you just going to walk into town nude with your ass all red like it is?” The image of her walking through the darkness of the city and coming across men who would rather see her beneath them than helping her in any way flooded his mind.
His original irritation with her returned.
With a gentle push, he moved her from his lap. “Let me see your ass.” He pinned her face down on the bed.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled into the pillow.
A purple blotch was already forming on each cheek. He sighed over the mess.
“Don’t do anything to warrant another punishment, Ariana.” He poked his finger into her thigh. “Your ass can’t handle another spanking right now.”
Ariana pulled away from him and rolled to her back. Once situated on his pillows, she sighed and folded her hands on her stomach.
“I don’t know how you managed to get away this long without someone noticing,” he said, resting his hand on her thigh.
This was good. Her being herself, no playacting, no games. Just two people talking. It was the most real he’d felt in the past year of working at the House.
“It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” She smiled. “I fucking hate the dayroom, though. It’s really boring but—ow!” She covered her thigh where he’d pinched her.
“Don’t start getting careless. And I don’t like language like that. Grown up or little, my girl doesn’t curse like that.”
She rolled her eyes. “Several things. One,” she held up a finger between them, “I’m not anyone’s anything. Two, that’s a bit old-fashioned don’t you think?”
He wrapped his hand around her finger and brought it to his mouth, biting down on the tip until she yanked it away.
“Don’t point that finger at me again. And, you sure as hell are mine. That doesn’t change.” He patted her thigh.
“What if I don’t want to be yours?” she countered, though the teasing in her tone suggested she was trying to rile him.
“Do you?” he asked, firming his gaze on her.
Did she?
That was a good question. She barely knew him. The real him anyway. But she couldn’t completely deny how safe she felt now that he’d promised not to expose her. She trusted him.
And in a world that allowed girls to be abducted, drugged, and sold, trust meant something.
“What does that even mean, Costello?” she asked.
He moved higher up on the bed, sitting directly beside her. Pressing his hand into the mattress on the other side of her, he had her caged.
“It means the same thing it’s meant for the past week. But instead of it being because you were drugged and didn’t know better, it’s because you chose it. I choose it.”
“You’d want to still be my daddy?” she asked. A spark ignited in her belly with her question. Of all the things she detested at the House, being his little girl hadn’t ranked high on the list.
“I didn’t sign up for this job hating the idea of being a Daddy,” he said solemnly. “It’s part of me, just like I’m sure it’s part of you. At least deep down inside of you.”
Was it? She’d never considered it, not seriously. Though, it would explain a lot of her relationship failures.
“There have been complaints about my neediness,” she confessed.