Wanting His Father; Daddy Dom/ LG Forbidden Romance
She scrambles back against the pillows, breath coming in sharp gasps, eyes bright with tears she refuses to let fall.
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “No – this is wrong. I stood in a church and I married your son. Two days ago.”
The words are sharp with shock, not logic, but I let her finish. I let the panic crest, then I speak.
“That marriage was a contract,” I say, evenly. “You know that.”
She freezes.
“You didn’t marry for love,” I continue. “You didn’t promise fidelity of feeling. You promised duration, performance, appearance.”