Chapter 283: Getting It Right This Time

David’s POV

The shower water had long gone cold by the time we finally peeled ourselves apart.

Holly was trembling…legs shaky, breath still hitching in little aftershocks. Her neck and shoulders were a map of my mouth…dark purple hickeys blooming in clusters, bite marks ringed with faint teeth impressions, one particularly vicious one right at the curve where neck met shoulder that I’d sucked until she’d sobbed my name. Her wrists were pink from where I’d pinned them, thighs marked with fingerprint bruises I’d pressed in when I’d held her open for every brutal thrust.

I turned off the spray. Wrapped her in the biggest towel I owned…soft, white, oversized…then scooped her up again like she weighed nothing. She curled into my chest without protest, face tucked under my jaw, still floating somewhere between subspace and exhaustion.

In the bedroom, I laid her on the edge of the mattress. She tried to sit up but I pressed a firm hand to her sternum.

“Stay.”

One word. Low and commanding and she melted back down.

I knelt between her spread thighs…gentle now. Grabbed the bottle of arnica gel from the nightstand drawer. Squeezed a generous amount into my palm, warmed it between my hands, then started on her wrists first. Slow circles over the pink rope-burn marks that weren’t from rope but from my grip. I kissed each one after I soothed it…soft, lingering presses of lips.

Next her thighs. I parted them carefully. The skin was flushed, sensitive. I worked the gel in with feather-light strokes, avoiding the places still swollen and tender from how hard I’d fucked her.

Every time she whimpered at a particularly sore spot, I paused, kissed the inside of her thigh, murmured, “Good girl. You’re now my responsibility and I’m taking care of you now.”

Her neck and shoulders took the longest. I traced every hickey with my fingertips, then my mouth…kissing, licking, soothing the worst of the bruising. She sighed, boneless, eyes half-closed.

When I finished, I pulled one of my clean T-shirts over her head…black, soft, swallowing her whole.

Slid a pair of my boxer briefs up her legs so she wouldn’t feel exposed. Tucked her under the covers. Crawled in beside her for a minute, just holding her…chest to her back, arm banded around her waist, nose buried in her damp hair.

“You did so good for me,” I whispered against her ear. “So fucking perfect.”

She hummed, sleepy and content, already drifting. “We have to get ready for work,” she murmured sleepily and I hushed her.

“I’m the boss. No one will scold us for coming a bit late,” I replied and she giggled.

I stayed until her breathing evened out completely.

Then I slipped out of bed.

I went straight to the kitchen and began to move quietly.

If I’m going to win her completely, I might as well go all out as the perfect model boyfriend or whatever this is.

So, I got to work.

Toasted two thick slices of sourdough until golden. Mashed half an avocado with salt, pepper, a squeeze of lemon, a drizzle of olive oil. Cracked two eggs into a pan…over easy, yolks still runny. Brewed coffee…black for me, hers with a splash of oat milk and one sugar, the way I’d noticed she took it last week at the office.

I plated it all on a small tray and added a glass of water. Folded her skirt and blouse from yesterday…already washed, dried, and ironed while she slept…carried them neatly beside the food.

Back in the bedroom, I set the tray on the nightstand and went over to her.

She stirred when I sat on the edge of the mattress, stretching like a cat on a vacation.

“Morning, baby,” I whispered softly.

Her eyes fluttered open as a sleepy smile crossed her lips. Her hair all over her frame like a wild halo.

I helped her sit up against the pillows, tucked the blanket around her waist. Picked up a piece of toast slathered with avocado, and held it to her lips.

“Open.”

She did…small, obedient, lips parting like she was made for this.

I fed her slowly. Bite by bite. Watched her chew, watched her throat work on the swallow. When a tiny smear of avocado stuck to the corner of her mouth, I leaned in and licked it off…slow drag of tongue that made her shiver.

“You’re mine now,” I said quietly, voice rough with possession. “My girl. You belong to me. That means no more stressing for anything. No more carrying everything alone. I will handle it all like I’m planning to handle you. Understand?”

She nodded like a good little pet…small, babyish with her eyes big and trusting. “Yes, David.”

I fed her another bite. “Good girl.”

She leaned forward, nuzzling into my chest like a kitten seeking warmth. I wrapped an arm around her, hand cupping the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair.

“Finish your breakfast,” I murmured. “Then we’re getting ready for work. Together.”

She pouted…adorable and playful…in a way that had me aching…wishing that this was real. “Carry me?”

I laughed low, ignoring the ache in my chest. “Always.”

When the plate was clean and the coffee gone, I scooped her up again…towel, T-shirt, all of it…and carried her to the walk-in wardrobe so she could dress up.

She dressed in her freshly ironed clothes…skirt hugging her hips, blouse tucked neatly. I buttoned the top two buttons for her, then stole one more slow kiss before fixing myself up.

“Ready?” I asked when we were both done.

She nodded, slipping her hand into mine.

We left my house together like a newlywed…my arm around her waist, her head on my shoulder as we walked to the driveway. In the parking garage, I opened the passenger door for her, buckled her in like she was precious cargo, then rounded to the driver’s side.

As I pulled out onto the street, she reached over and laced her fingers with mine on the gearshift.

I squeezed back in response, bringing her hand up to my mouth and kissing her knuckles.

“Are we really dating now, David,” she asked carefully with anticipation laced in her tone like she needed reassurance, and I paused.

It’s a game, David. Remember that and play your card nice and smooth.

“Of course we are, sweetheart. I’m all in,” I replied and she exhaled like a weight has been lifted off her chest.

The city blurred past the windows as I drove one-handed, the other locked with hers on the gearshift. Her fingers were small, warm, fitting perfectly between mine like they’d always belonged there. I squeezed once…hard…then stroked my thumb over her knuckles in slow, deliberate circles.

“Mine,” I murmured, low enough that only she could hear it over the hum of the engine. “All fucking mine now.”

She ducked her head, cheeks going pink, but she didn’t pull away. Instead she turned her hand palm-up so I could lace our fingers tighter.

A few blocks later she shifted in her seat, thighs pressing together under that skirt I’d ironed myself.

“David…” Her voice came out small, shy. “Can you… stop at that lingerie shop on the 11th? The one with the black awning.”

I glanced at her. “Why? What’s wrong?”

She bit her lip, eyes flicking to the dashboard like it might save her. “Because… you ruined my panties last night. And right now I’m… not wearing any.”

Heat shot straight to my cock hearing her say that.

I smirked, slow and filthy. “Good.”

“Good?” She blinked up at me, half scandalized.

“Yeah. Good.” I lifted our joined hands and kissed the back of hers, teeth grazing skin. “I want you bare under that skirt all day. No barriers. Nothing between me and what’s mine.” I let my gaze drop to her chest. “And this blouse? Too fucking modest. When it’s just me around, I want it unbuttoned lower. Let me see the tops of those pretty tits every time you lean forward.”

“David!” She laughed…nervous, breathless…swatting my arm with her free hand. “Stop acting like a maniac. We’re in public. In traffic to be precise.”

I just grinned wider. “I could just park somewhere and get some sugar,” I teased, and she laughed louder, her voice echoing inside me.

Then her expression changed suddenly and she froze. Peeled her fingers out of mine and tucked them in her lap like she’d been caught doing something wrong.

“What?” I asked.