When our gazes locked, his expression was a storm of fury and devotion. "You're not dirty. Thank fucking God your stubborn husband showed after all. If he fucking—" He leaned in, cutting himself off with a kiss on my cheek, his lips lingering. Still so delicate, despite his fury. It made my heart ache. God, please touch me more. "You're mine, Pearl. And I'm yours. Let daddy take care of it, angel. It will always be me touching you, baby girl. No one else. I swear," he vowed, letting out a soft sigh. I nodded, swallowing sobs, the tears cathartic now, washing away years of neglect. Jason's indifference, my family's cold judgments, the endless whisper that I was too much and never enough. Derek's presence was a chisel, carving those old scars away. Then he began to withdraw again, attempting to clean himself up and pick up his pants. Again, I panicked, the distance between us now frightening. "Wait," I gasped, hands flying forward to seize his arms as I scowled. My nails dug into
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