Chapter 2: Ruin Me Daddy

SERAPHINA

“Yes.” I cut him off, my hands fisting in his shirt. “I want all of it. I want you to stop pretending you don’t want this as much as I do.”

“Damn you,” he says, his voice rough with anguish. “This—what we’re doing? It won’t end well. It can’t.”

“It doesn’t have to end at all.” I lean closer, my lips brushing his jaw. “I’d never hurt you.”

He laughs, bitter and broken. “You’re already hurting me. Every time I look at you, every time I try to be the man she thinks I am—” His grip on my thighs tightens. “You’re destroying me, Seraphina.”

“Then let me.” My fingers slide up to his tie, loosening it further. “Stop fighting it. Stop pretending you’re someone you’re not.”

“And what am I?” His eyes bore into mine, dark and dangerous. “Tell me what you think I am.”

“Everything I want.” The words come out breathless. “Everything I’ve ever wanted since that first night—”

“Stop.” But his hands are moving now, sliding higher up my thighs, pushing my dress up. “Just… fuck! stop talking.”

“Why don’t you make me? Kiss me again.” I challenged.

Something in him snaps. I see it happen, the last thread of control severing like a cut wire. His hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back so I’m forced to meet his gaze.

“You want this?” His voice drops to that commanding tone that makes my stomach clench. “You want me to keep ravaging your tight pussy with my cock… is that what you want?”

“Yes.” My breath comes faster. “God, yes.”

He scoffs, “you are such a whore.” His free hand slides between my legs, and I gasp. “You’re already soaking for me.” It’s not a question. His fingers trace over my panties, making me shiver. “How long have you been like this? Since this morning? Since you watched me drink my scotch?”

I can’t form words, can only nod.

“Answer me.” The command is sharp, his fingers pressing harder against the damp fabric. “Use your words, or I stop right now.”

“Since—” My voice breaks. “Since I woke up. Since I heard you in the shower. Since every goddamn moment I’m in this house with you.”

“That’s what I thought.” His fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, but he doesn’t pull. Just lets them rest there, a promise and a threat. “You walk around here in these little dresses, teasing me. Testing me. Waiting for me to break.”

“Dominic—” His name comes out as a plea.

“Take them off.” The command is absolute.

My hands tremble as I reach for the waistband, but he stops me with a sharp shake of his head.

“No.” His eyes are pure fire now. “Stand up. I want to watch you strip for me. Every piece. Slowly.”

I slide off the counter on shaky legs, standing before him. The cool air hits my heated skin, and I’m hyperaware of every inch of space between us, of the way his eyes travel over me like he’s cataloging every detail.

“Slower.” His voice is pure gravel. “When I give you an order, Seraphina, I expect you to follow it exactly.”

My breath catches at the authority in his tone. I hook my thumbs into my panties, holding his gaze as I slowly, painfully slowly, slide them down my thighs. The fabric clings to my skin, damp with evidence, and I watch his jaw clench as they pool at my feet.

I step out of them, standing before him in just my dress.

“Good girl.” The praise makes heat flood through me. “Now the dress. And don’t make me repeat myself.”

My hands find the hem, fingers trembling. “Dominic—”

“That’s not what you call me.” His eyes flash dangerously. “Not when you’re about to get naked for me. Not when you’re standing there soaking wet and needy. Try again.”

My heart pounds. “Daddy.” The word comes out barely a whisper.

His eyes go dark, pupils blown wide. “Louder. I want to hear you say it like you mean it.”

“Daddy.” Stronger this time, and the word tastes like sin and surrender.

“That’s my girl.” The satisfaction in his voice is intense. “Now take off that dress. Show daddy what’s his.”

I lift it slowly, inch by torturous inch. The fabric slides over my thighs, my hips, my stomach. I watch his face the entire time—watch his pupils dilate, watch the muscle in his jaw tick as more skin is revealed.

When the dress clears my breasts, his breath hitches. That small surrender to want.

“Christ.” His hands flex at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for me. “Look at you.”

I pull it over my head and let it fall.

The silence that follows is deafening. I stand before him completely bare, vulnerable in a way that should terrify me but doesn’t. Because the way he’s looking at me, like I’m something he wants to consume entirely, makes me feel powerful.

“Get back on the counter.” Not a request. “Now.”

I move without thinking, my body responding before my mind catches up. The granite is cold against my bare skin.

“Spread your legs.” He steps between them, his hands firm on my thighs. “Wider. I want to see everything.”

I spread further, shameless now. His eyes track downward, and the intensity of his gaze feels physical.

“Look at this mess.” His voice is rough with desire. “Look at what you do to yourself, thinking about me.”

Heat floods my face, but I don’t look away.

“You’re fucking perfect.” His hands slide up my thighs, stopping just before where I need him. “Spread out for me like this. Naked. Desperate.” His thumbs trace circles on my inner thighs, maddeningly close. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” The word comes out breathy.

“Be specific.” His eyes lock on mine, demanding. “What exactly do you want daddy to do to you?”

“Touch me. Please. I need you…”

“You need what?” His thumbs move closer, barely grazing where I’m aching. “Use your words. Tell daddy exactly what you need.”

“I need you to touch me. To—” My voice breaks as his thumb brushes against me, feather-light. “Please, daddy. I need you to fill my pussy up.”

“That’s better.” The approval in his voice makes me clench. “You sound so pretty when you beg.”

His control is absolute even as mine shatters. He’s still fully clothed, picture of restrained power, but his eyes betray the storm beneath.

“I could keep you like this all day.” His hands frame my hips. “Spread open. Begging. Would you stay right here, naked and desperate, if daddy told you to?”

“Yes.” I’d agree to anything. “Yes, anything.”

“Anything?” He leans closer, breath hot against my neck. “Careful making promises you can’t keep, baby girl.”

“I mean it.” My hands find his shoulders, needing to touch him. “Whatever you want.”

“What I want—” His hand slides up my stomach, between my breasts, until his fingers wrap gently around my throat. Not squeezing. Just claiming. “What I want is to ruin you completely. To make sure no one else ever touches what belongs to me.”

“Then do it.” I tilt my head back. “Ruin me.”

His grip tightens just slightly, enough to make my pulse race, enough to remind me who’s in control. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I know exactly—”

“No.” His other hand slides between my legs, and I gasp. “You think you know. But you have no idea what I want to do to you. The things I’ve imagined.” He pauses, eyes boring into mine. “I want to dismantle you bit by bit until you are completely destroyed.”

I sharp needy moan escapes me. “Then do you. Dont hold back. I want you to destroy me.”

“Good girl. Now beg daddy to fuck you. Tell me how badly you need it.”

“Please.” My voice is wrecked. “Please, daddy. I need you inside me. I need—”

His thumb finds my clit and I cry out.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, working me with devastating precision. “Let me hear you. Your sister’s upstairs sleeping off her chemo, and you’re down here spread open for me, begging. You’re such a bad girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” The word comes out as a moan. “Yes, daddy, I’m so bad. I’m your bad girl.”

“Damn right you are. And bad girls need to be punished, don’t they?”