Chapter One

"Daddy!"

The sound of a sweet voice breaks through the otherwise silent house causing an immediate grin to break out across my face.

It happens every time I hear that voice.

As it has for the last seven years.

Taking one last look at the stained-glass window that still pours sunlight into the calm, quiet kitchen each morning before most of our house wakes, I pick up the two matching mugs filled with coffee I had been pouring prior to the interruption and carry them up the stairs and into the bedroom I share with Daphne.

My wife.

Every day, I wake up waiting for the day the novelty of it wears off.

Clearly, it hasn't happened yet.

Daphne greets me with a lazy, sleepy smile. Her shoulders are bare except for the tattoos that cover nearly every inch of her skin. Not a day goes by that I don't trail my fingers over the colors and designs, much as I did that day in the kitchen all those years ago.

Long black hair that I've come to love to tangle my fingers deep within cascades around her, just as sleep-mussed as the rumpled sheets and down comforter that cover her petite frame.

"Good morning, Little Star."

Crossing the room, I pass her a cup of coffee once she rights herself, propping her back against the endless amount of pillows on our bed, which seem to multiply on the regular.

The sheets fall down around her waist, her small breasts exposing themselves to the chilly, morning air. Instantly, her nipples harden, and like the crazed man she has turned me into over the years, I groan, scrubbing my free hand over my scruffy face while trying to tame the growing situation happening in my pants.

"Baby Girl, what's with the yelling up here so early on a Sunday? I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast in bed this morning."

Hot steam rises from the cup cradled carefully between her hands, but it doesn't stop Daphne from trying to drink her coffee prematurely. Few things get her going in the morning before her caffeine fix, and I've learned the hard way on more than one occasion that if I have to wake her for any reason, I better have a cup of the good stuff on hand to soften the blow.

"Ouch! Fuck, that's hot!" It comes out quickly, like Daphne wants to pull away from the heat but knows if she does, she'll likely end up with hot liquid on her exposed body, burning far more than just her sassy, smart tongue.

I quickly take the cup back from her hands and place it on the wooden nightstand with a chuckle. "Give it a few minutes to cool, you greedy girl."

Looking up at me from our bed, she smiles, scrunching up her adorable, little nose. "I can't help it, Daddy. Someone kept me up way past my bedtime last night."

Well, she isn't wrong about that.

Still, I give her a skeptical look before returning to my side of the bed, climbing back between the sheets, and pulling Daphne into my arms. Because, after all, right here is my favorite place to be.

Much has changed over the years since we first met and she moved in with me upon her move to Johnson Creek. My hair has gone from the sprinkled salt and pepper of the days we first met to the nearly full gray look that my wife assures me daily has turned me into one hell of a certifiable silver fox.

Hey, Daphne's words, not mine.

The deep laugh lines surrounding the corner of her eyes are made in part from the laughter we've shared. Of the smiles we've given so freely to one another. Of the love we've curated and turned into our perfect family of kids and pets and loud-ass family and friends.

We've grown closer, both physically and emotionally, as we opened our life to three foster children over the course of our marriage. Alongside Joseph, Laurel, and Emily, we've served as parents or guardians to a total of six wonderful children, ranging from newborn to sixteen when they came into our care. And they're all doing things to make any parent proud. And while they might not all call me Dad or Daphne Mom, it doesn't mean we haven't been permanent fixtures in all their lives. We've been beyond grateful to watch as they have blossomed into wonderful children and young adults, while knowing we had just the smallest part of shaping them into the individuals they are and will become.

It hasn't always been easy. Hell, more days than not, it has been hard. But that's the most beautiful thing about our relationship. Every day, no matter how hard, has been easier with Daphne at my side.

The first year, in particular, was desperately taxing—a new relationship, a newborn, a new job, a permanent home for Daphne, and a growing and changing family all at once. Exhaustion came to a head late one night when Daphne broke down into chest heaving sobs, explaining that while she loved her newfound job as a mother and loved me as her husband, she felt like she was missing who she was as a woman and business owner at the same time. I was determined to give her that autonomy back, and with some trial and error on both of our parts, we found a system that allowed her to thrive while we continued to grow and learn about and alongside one another.

Yet for everything that has changed since the day she moved into our now shared house on Bougainvillea Drive, one thing has stayed consistent.

I'm goddamn insatiable when it comes to Daphne.

The woman who I initially pushed away because of her carefree attitude and happy-go-lucky nature. The woman who was more experienced than I was, who taught me more about myself than I ever expected possible. The woman who showered my children with love and understanding, treating them as if they were her very own from day one without me ever even asking her to do so.

The woman who was relentless, knowing I needed fun and excitement in my life, even when I thought it was something I would never experience again.

She's my wife, my confidant. The one who truly put me back together, even though I would have sworn until I was blue in the face that I was fine to begin with after the death of my first wife, Tabitha.

"We've got a busy day ahead of us, so I really do need to go get breakfast ready. Would you like pancakes or French toast this morning?"

Daphne looks up at me from between my arms, a scowl on her perfectly pretty face.

"Isn't it my special day?" she whines, knowing darn well that I find it hard to say no to her.

"It is. What else did you have in mind? I thought those were your two favorites."

A hand snakes down my bare torso, finding its way beneath the band of my sleep pants. My cock thickens as her hand wraps around me, the scowl on her face morphing into something mixed with much more desire. "I can have anything I want for breakfast today, right?"

Lazy strokes of my dick have me fully hard in no time, another thing that has thankfully stayed the same over the years. "You keep doing that, Sweetheart, and I'll give you anything you want every day for the rest of our lives."

"Well, I guess it's lucky for both of us that what I really want for breakfast is to have dessert first."

Dessert.

Like I'd say no to that.

Arching up into her hand, I push my pants down, my cock springing free to reveal a bead of clear liquid already pooling at the tip.

I thought men were supposed to find it harder to get it up as we aged, but with this woman, I truly still find my libido is almost always in overdrive.

Daphne climbs on top of me, lips meeting mine in a morning kiss that has enough electricity in it to shock my senses awake. "I'm so lucky to have you as my husband."

I smile against her lips, my arms wrapping around her in a hug that could crush the air from her small frame. "Not as lucky as I am to have you as my wife. Happy Birthday, Little Star."

Before she can so much as squeak out a response, I roll us over, pinning her naked body beneath mine.

"There was a time in my life where I didn't think I could go on. That Tabitha took my happiness when she died. I knew I had to live for my girls. But while I was alive, I wasn't living."

Sure, some people might find it weird that here, in the sanctity of our bedroom, I bring up the name of my first wife. But that's the thing that's magical about Daphne. While it was uncomfortable at first—opening up about the relationship I shared with Tabitha—it wasn't awkward because I was opening up to Daphne; it was awkward that I was opening up at all.

Yet she made it easy. Encouraging me to share stories, to keep the memory and spirit alive of the person I thought I was meant to spend the rest of my life with before her life was tragically cut short.

With Daphne by my side, we created a scholarship foundation to honor Tabitha's life, her love of family, and the brave battle she fought until her very last day. Without the urging of my Little Star, I truly believe it never would have happened.

Most days, it still blows my mind that I am lucky enough to have experienced not just one great love but two.

I look at Daphne now, into those mesmerizing blue eyes, the same ones that pulled me into her orbit no matter how fiercely I tried to push away.

"Then you—" I laugh, remembering the moment as if it were yesterday, "you crashed into my life and showed me what was missing. Showed me how to live, how to love. You showed me what it was like to have fun, gave me the experience of being a father again, and taught me what it meant to be a good Daddy, too."

Daphne smiles up at me, surely playing back some of her own favorite memories of us exploring in the early days of our relationship as we fumbled through our needs and wants.

"Remember the first time you took me to dinner? You were so nervous."

"I was nervous," I admit. "I knew I had something special on my hands. I didn't want to mess that up."

She laughs teasingly, and I'm glad we can joke about our beginning now. "You asked me if we needed a contract."

"Don't be a brat, Little Girl. You might be allowed to have dessert before breakfast this morning, but if you keep that attitude up, I'll have to punish you tonight. And what happens to bad girls, Daphne?"

Dropping my head to the sensitive flesh where her shoulder and neck meet, I nibble on her skin, loving the way she giggles and squirms as she tries to break free.

I feel my way across her skin as I fan her ear with a hot breath that sends goosebumps over her body. "Tell me, Little Girl. Tell Daddy what happens to bad little girls who don't follow the rules."

"Bad girls don't get to come," she says, the most adorable pout on her face.

I hold her at a distance for a moment, not allowing her to get as close as either of us want.

Daphne groans in frustration as she tries to move herself against me. "Colin, please."

With a raised eyebrow, she corrects herself without further prompting. "Please, Daddy."

I chuckle, urging her on with gentle trailing fingertips and light caresses everywhere but where she most wants my touch. "That's right, Sweetheart. You know bad girls don't get to come. So be good for me because we both know that it's more fun for both of us when Daddy gets to play with his needy Little Girl's pussy until she's made a mess all over his cock."

If I didn't have a day filled with plans to spoil the ever-living crap out of my girl, I'd let her grind on me till her little heart's content, using me like one of the toys we keep in our ever-growing collection.

"Now tell me, Baby," I ask her, "do you trust me?"

Daphne answers so quickly, I know she didn't need to think about the answer. "Implicitly and with my entire life."

With gentle lips, I lean down and press a kiss to the tip of her nose, her cheeks, across her eyelids, then finally, her lips. "Then be a good girl for Daddy and close your eyes."

She does as I ask without hesitation.

Daphne closes her eyes, not just because I am her husband or her Daddy. Not because we have raised wonderful children together or that she has poured just as much heart and soul into her tattoo studio as I have poured into my law office as two small business owners in two very different yet equally successful careers. Not because of the vacations we have taken or the kinks we have explored—some of which we've loved and even more that we've hated.

She doesn't do as I ask because I demand it of her or require it of her as part of our dynamic.

She closes her eyes because all those things together make her the woman I love.

The woman that, while not perfect, is perfect for me.

Pushing up from the bed, I silently cross to the closet, pulling out three presents that I had wrapped and hidden away last week.

Buried deep within the piles of thick sweatshirts that line a shelf Daphne could never reach without a full-on ladder, I picked this hiding place specifically after remembering the first Christmas we spent together married where my naughty wife peeked at all her presents early, then felt so guilty about it that she confessed on Christmas morning with tears in her eyes.

She earned the spanking I gave her later that evening fair and square, and while she swears she hasn't done it again since, I've decided an extra layer of protection never hurts when it comes to the wandering eyes of my bratty wife and the gifts I love to spoil her with.

Placing the three expertly wrapped presents on the foot of the bed, I make sure Daphne isn't peeking now, too. "I'm going to count down from five, Sweetheart. When I get to one, open your eyes."

I can see the excitement as it radiates from her body, in the way her smile goes wide and her body seems to vibrate with need from where she lays still half-naked and sleep rumpled.

"Five...four..."

Swiping across the screen of my phone, I open Spotify and select a playlist before hitting play. The sound of music fills the room, soft enough that it doesn't overwhelm the moment between us.

"Three…"

Daphne squeals as I pull what was left of the sheet from around her body, leaving her naked in the middle of the bed with her eyes still closed tightly. It's as if it is taking every muscle in her body and every ounce of concentration she has to not open them. Though we both know that she loves earning punishments almost as much as she loves earning rewards.

"Two…"

I pluck at one of her nipples, and she yelps. I have the sudden urge to tie her naked body to our bed where I can torment her with my teeth, tongue, and cock until she is reduced to nothing but a pile of mush with a well-used pussy that screams of my possession days after the fact.

But first, we have to get through today.

Finally, after drawing the moment out, making Daphne wonder if I would ever truly finish the countdown, I say the one word she's been waiting to hear.

"One."