Chapter Nine

Lena

B y the time I make it back to the cabin, it's nearly dark…and Carver's truck is nowhere to be found. I sit in my car for a long time, staring blankly at the cabin, confusion swirling through me.

Where is he? Why did he just leave?

It doesn't make sense.

But as the shadows around the cabin deepen and his truck still doesn't rumble up the gravel driveway, anxiety begins to set in. I drag myself out of the car and force myself to go inside.

The cabin feels empty and cold without him. My gaze darts to the table where I left my note, only to find it still there, untouched.

He hasn't been back at all.

Pain squeezes my chest in a cruel vise, doubts crowding in no matter how hard I try to force them out again. I've been so sure of him…but what if he's not as sure of me?

What if last night made him realize that this isn't what he wants? That being my daddy is too much work?

A protest bubbles up from the depths of my soul. He wouldn't do that. I know he wouldn't. Something had to have happened. And yet…there's no note, no nothing.

I wrap my arms around myself, seeking comfort where there's none to be found. I stumble toward the bedroom, hoping for some hint of where he went. But I find none. It's as untouched as the rest of the cabin, left exactly as it was this morning when I left.

Something is wrong. I know it is.

Maybe he's hurt or lost. Maybe there was an accident.

Or maybe he just left , that evil little voice whispers again.

I sink down onto the side of the bed, fighting tears as anxiety claws through me. I get lost in a whirlpool of doubt, drowning in it.

" Lena !" My name cracks through the room in a roar as the front door crashes open.

I jolt upright, hope and fear crashing like cymbals in my chest. "C-Carver?"

His heavy steps pound across the floor, vibrating the wood. I hold my breath, only to release it in a sob when he fills the doorway, his gunmetal gray eyes locking onto mine.

"Little angel," he rasps, the words rough and gravelly, like a prayer ripped from deep within his chest.

I don't even make it a single step before he's across the room, sinking to knees at my feet like a giant humbled. He reaches for me, his strength restrained and his hands gentle as they latch around my waist.

"Carver!" I sob, my knees buckling as I collapse into him. "You're here!"

"Shh, little girl," he murmurs, dragging me down into his embrace. His arms are steel bands, his hold unyielding.

"I-I t-thought you left me." The words tumble from my lips, raw and painful, as I wipe tears.

"Left you?" His voice is a rumble of disbelief. "I've been scouring this fucking mountain looking for you." He cradles my face in his hands, pressing his forehead to mine. "You think I could ever leave you, little girl?"

"I-I didn't know," I whisper. "You were gone when I got up. And you weren't here when I got back."

"I was hanging barbed wire this morning, pretty baby," he growls, holding my gaze captive. "I thought I'd make it back before you woke up. But if you don't know that I breathe for you, I'm doing my job wrong, Lena." He chokes on a pained groan. "I've fucked up as your Daddy, little girl."

My heart clenches at his words. "Carver, how could you think that?"

Memories of last night flash in my mind—raw, intense, everything I never knew I needed until he gave it to me. How could he ever think that he's not the Daddy of my dreams?

"What we did last night…" His eyes darken, and he swallows hard, his expression rife with guilt. "Christ, little angel. You needed soft and sweet. I should have given you that. Instead, I—"

I place a hand over his lips, silencing him. The rough stubble on his face prickles against my skin. "I needed my daddy," I whisper. "I needed exactly what you gave me, Carver. You think I'm afraid of what we are together, but you know what? You're the one thing in this world that doesn't scare me. You're the only thing I've ever been this sure of before."

He stares at me like I'm his salvation, so much intensity in his gaze it pierces right through me, shaking free the truth.

"I love you," I murmur, the words wrapped in sheer devotion as they spill from my lips. "I love what we did last night. I love everything about the way we are. I love you . You're the best part of my life."

His growl bounces off the ceiling before his lips come down on mine, his kiss wild and reverent, full of devotion. He steals my breath and my soul before he pulls back, breathing hard.

He holds my gaze as he fishes in his pocket for a moment and then pulls his hand out, a simple, elegant ring nestled in his palm.

"Carver," I gasp, staring at it in awe.

"Got this for you on my way back to the cabin today," he says. "For days, I haven't been able to stop thinking about how that finger is bare when it shouldn't be, when it should have my ring on it," he rasps. "When you weren't here this morning, I nearly had a fucking heart attack, thinking I'd never get to see you wearing nothing but it and a smile."

"I didn't leave you, Carver," I promise. "My grandfather…"

"I know, little angel." His thumb caresses my ring finger, as if he's just waiting for me to let him put his ring there. "I talked to your cousin."

"You talked to Dalton?" I squeak, my eyes nearly popping out of my head.

He nods.

I groan, my stomach churning at the thought. "Carver, anything he said—"

"Doesn't matter, pretty baby." His chuckle eases the anxiety coursing through me. "He isn't a problem for me, and never will be." He flicks his gaze up to mine. "You going to let me put this on you now?"

"You really want to marry me?" I whisper, awed at the thought when, just minutes ago, I felt like I was losing everything.

"God, yes," he growls. "Want to. Need to. Am fucking desperate to marry you, little girl. I love you."

I stretch out my hand, offering it to him eagerly. "Put it on me then, Daddy."

His hand shakes as he slides the ring onto my finger, his eyes blazing with pure possession. "Damn, pretty angel. You look good claimed by Daddy."

"Yeah," I breathe, climbing into his lap, feeling every hard line of his body against mine. "But I look even better when he's all over me." My lips find his jaw, trailing kisses toward his ear. "Especially when he's dripping between my legs."

He sinks his hands into my sides, bucking his hips against me. " Fuck , little girl. You want to play?"

"Maybe." I flash him an innocent smile, looking up at him from beneath my lashes. "There's nobody here to catch us, Daddy. And I like our games."

"Yeah? What's your favorite?" he asks, already dragging my pants and panties down my legs, his eyes dark with desire.

"The one where you see how far down my throat you can fit your cock before I choke."

A loud groan escapes him, and in one swift motion, he tumbles me over backward. My squeal echoes around the cabin as he crawls over me, those gray eyes dark as sin.

"Let's see how good you are at those games, little girl," he breathes, his big hands gliding over my body as he rips away the rest of my clothes, leaving me bare and aching beneath him. The hunger in his eyes makes my heart race.

"But we're not playing the choking game tonight, little angel," he murmurs, his lips trailing fire from my collarbone to my breasts as his hand slips between my thighs.

"Then what—" My question dies on a gasp as he kisses lower, licking a trail down my stomach. His tongue spears through my folds, stroking me in a way that has me shaking beneath him and gasping his name.

"Shh," he soothes, and I can almost hear the smirk in his voice. "We're playing the breeding game tonight, Lena."

"W-What's that game?" The innocent question spills out between moans as he licks me, already driving me toward the brink with that sinful tongue.

"It's where you lie back," he says, pausing to look up at me, his gray eyes dark with desire, "spread your pretty little thighs, and let Daddy fill you up again and again, pretty baby."

His tongue swipes through my folds, swirling against my clit. My body responds to him instinctively, my hips arching toward his mouth, seeking more of his exquisite torment.

"And if we're really, really good at it…" he trails off, his gaze locked on mine, full of unspoken promises. "Daddy will leave a little present behind for you."

"Oh, yes, Daddy," I sigh, my entire being vibrating with need.

"Good girl," he praises, dipping his head again. His tongue is relentless this time, slipping between my folds as he fucks me with it.

By the time he's done, I'm gasping for breath, on the edge of orgasm. But he isn't finished yet. He pulls away abruptly, leaving me empty and aching for more.

Before I can protest, he's looming over me again, positioning himself at my entrance.

"Ready for your present, little girl?" he asks, the gravel in his voice grating against my womb.

"Yes," I gasp as he eases into me. "Yes, Daddy."

The pleasure is immediate and overwhelming. He fills me so completely that it takes my breath away. A deep thrust sends me spiraling into ecstasy, my nails digging into his shoulders as I cling to him.

"That's it, pretty baby," he breathes in my ear, each thrust making me gasp and pant. "Take Daddy all in."

Words become meaningless as he drives into me, and we get lost in the rhythm and each other. His hips snap against mine, each thrust driving him deeper.

His hand slips around my throat, squeezing in a way that sends a thrill racing through me. "Look at me, little girl," he commands. "Open those pretty eyes."

I obey instantly, my eyes fluttering open.

"I love you," he says, his gaze tangled with mine, the truth reflecting in the depths like stars. His voice is raw with emotion, every word drenched in devotion.

"I love you too," I manage to gasp before reality shatters around me. Pleasure ignites in my belly like a thousand fireworks detonating all at once. I fall over the edge, tangled in his gaze, with his hand around my throat, safe and loved.

He follows me over the edge with a groan, filling me full of him. But we don't stop. We can't. We keep going, again and again, until neither of us can move or breathe, and nothing exists between us except surrender and possession—exactly the way it should be between a Daddy and his little girl.

We collapse together, Carver's arms around me, holding me against his chest, his heart a wild drumbeat against my ear.

"You're mine, little girl," he breathes, his lips against my crown. "All fucking mine."

"Yes," I whisper back. "All yours, Daddy."

His lips curve into a smile as my eyes drift closed.