All For You, Daddy

8 - Grace.

Awareness prickles along my skin, especially when his open mouth drags up behind my ear, exploiting that sensitive patch of skin. "Why did you come in here?"

"I tried not to." He sounds frustrated. "But this...I don't know, this burning in my stomach won't go away. It has been there since what happened downstairs. I think it's guilt." It's obvious the admission was painful. "I don't know what to do about it."

Why is his honesty making my knees weak? "You could apologize."

"I never apologize." His chest heaves twice against my back. "But if I did want to apologize, what would be the appropriate way to go about it?"

"You'd say, 'I'm sorry, Grace'."

His scoff blows my hair forward. "Words? Words don't mean shit."

"They do to me." He makes a sound of disagreement and I start to pull away, but his hand creeps inside my robe, smoothing across my belly, squeezing my hip. That touch leaves a trail of lava in its wake, my core clenching hotly between my legs. "What..." I breathe, struggling to maintain the order of my thoughts. "What happened to make you think words mean nothing?"

His hand stops moving on my belly. "Here we go again with the personal questions." I try to wiggle my way free of his arms, but he holds tight, cursing under his breath. "My family couldn't afford to feed all of us, once upon a time, okay? Me, my mother and two sisters—they were twins. My father was a pathetic man who thought his rock band would get a big break eventually. Even after a decade of no real success. He kept telling us our big payday was around the corner, but it was just an excuse to waste money and stay out all night drinking with his friends." He pulls me closer, as if needing the additional strength. "I was the oldest. I ate the most, grew the fastest and needed new clothing most often. But my worst transgression was doing well in school, making my father feel inadequate. And so, one afternoon, they voted to throw me out."

My gasp sounds loud in the quiet library. I turn around in the circle of William's arms and bury my face in his throat, no idea what to say, what to do. Only knowing I'm here in this moment to give him comfort.

"He coerced my mother and sisters into voting for me. They were dependent on his meager income and our life...it was survival of the fittest. When my father pulled over to the side of the road and threw me out into the rain, they cried and apologized, but their words didn't mean a thing, did they? The vote, the betrayal, still stood. So, I never apologize, Grace. Actions are what matter."

"I'm sorry that happened to you," I whisper into his shoulder, heat prickling the insides of my eyelids. "I hate it."

"No, angel. You leave the hating to me." He strokes my hair. "You're too...good for an emotion so ugly. You're too good for...what I did to your innocent mouth." His hand closes around the length of my blonde hair, winding it around his fist and pulling firmly, making me whimper. "You're going to make me want to be a better man, aren't you? Goddammit, Grace." He inhales against my throat. "Goddamn you."

"You're already a better man," I whisper. "You just scare people away so they can't hurt you anymore."

"Why isn't it working with you?" he says hoarsely, bringing our lips an inch apart. "Why...don't I really want it to work?"

"I don't know," I say, unable to tear my attention off his sculpted, masculine mouth. "But I'm so glad."

We stare at each other for long moments, our breaths growing more and more labored, his large s*x thickening against my stomach. Rapidly.

Likewise, pivotal events are taking place all over my body. I'm wet and achy between my legs, my n*****s are in pain from being hard so long. But the most intense of all is the reaction of my heart to having William expose himself to me emotionally. To hearing him being honest, vulnerable. All those times I yearned for him while sitting in my tree and finally, I have access to what's on the inside. It's deeper and more damaged than I could have imagined—and all I want is more of him. I want him to take more of me in return.

It's in that moment, when he leans in to kiss me, that I remember what I'm really doing here. I'm here to offer my body in exchange for leniency with my family.

If I tell him that now, right after his confession, he will hate me.

Oh God. What should I do?

My hesitation causes a line to form between William's brows. He opens his mouth to say something, but at the same moment, Pauline's voice rings out.

"Please excuse the intrusion. I have a brownie for Miss Grace."

William's jaw flexes, but he nods. "Very well, you will eat now," he rasps, using his grip on my hair to bring my ear to his mouth. "But after that, little girl. I'm going to eat you right up."