Make Me Moan, Daddy-Chapter 27

DOMENICO

I still couldn’t believe I was doing this.

Even as the car cut through the quiet streets toward her aunt’s house, I kept telling myself to turn around. To walk away. To be the man I was supposed to be, cold, controlled, untouchable.

But then I remembered the picture.

That damned picture she sent me. The moment I saw it, immediately my eyes landed on her wet, juicy pussy, something inside me broke open, something I’d been holding back for far too long.

The world narrowed down to her skin, her breath, her body that I could still feel even though I wasn’t touching it.

By the time I parked outside her aunt’s gate, I already knew I wasn’t going home alone.

I stepped out of the car, adjusted my coat, and let the night swallow me whole.

The knock I gave the door wasn’t just a knock. It was a warning.

And when the door opened, she appeared, she was the only thing I could see—small, nervous, standing just behind her aunt— but she was the only one I wanted to look at. My Reina.

It took everything in me not to drag her straight out of that house, bend her over my car and fuck her right there. So good she would never think of running away from the only place she should be. My home, right next to me.

Her eyes darted everywhere but at me, her lips parting as if to speak but no sound came out.

"Let’s go," I said, my voice lower than I intended.

Her aunt turned, confused. "Go? At this hour?"

"She’ll be safe," I said without looking at her. "I’m taking her home."

It took everything in me not to show my possession over Reina right in front of her Aunt. Not like I couldn’t, just wasn’t sure if Reina would want that.

Fuck! I would show her off to the world of she would let me.

Reina’s lips parted. "Sir, why don’t we just—"

I gave her a look, the kind that didn’t need words. That same heat flickered between us— anger, desire, hunger —all tangled into something dangerous.

Within minutes, she followed me out. She didn’t have to; she wanted to. She just didn’t know how to admit it.

The ride back to the villa was silent. I could feel her gaze on me from the passenger seat, quick and anxious, then gone just as fast. She was trying to understand what version of me she’d get tonight. The man she feared or the man she wanted.

The man she wanted to run away from or the man she wanted to run to.

The man she wanted to avoid or the man she wanted to moan his name so bad.

When we reached the villa, I didn’t bother stopping near the servants’ quarters. They’d already been told to leave. Vacate the premises for tonight.

"Everyone moves to the east building for the night," I’d said earlier. "Anyone steps foot in here, they’re fired. Or dead. Whichever comes first."

No one argued. No one ever did. I never gave them a choice.

The silence that greeted us when we stepped inside was thick. Just us. Just the echo of our footsteps on marble.

Reina hovered near the door, arms folded across her chest like she needed to hold herself together. "You didn’t have to do that," she said, her voice small.

"I did," I answered, shrugging off my coat. "I don’t like interruptions."

Her eyes flashed. "You mean you don’t like witnesses."

That earned her a slow, dark smile. "Maybe both."

She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "You can’t keep doing this, Domenico. You can’t just—control everything."

"Watch me."

She let out a small, shaky laugh — part disbelief, part defiance. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re still here," I said simply.

That shut her up. For a moment, neither of us moved.

I walked past her, loosening my shirt cuffs. "You’re staying here tonight," I said over my shoulder.

Her voice followed, sharp and disbelieving. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You’re not leaving this house. You’re not going to Paolo’s building, you’re staying at mine."

"I’m not—"

I turned, my gaze locking onto hers. "You can argue all you want, princess, but I’m not in the mood for another runaway stunt. You’ve had enough chances to stay away, yet here you are."

She bit her lip — not out of guilt, but out of anger. And that just made me want her more.

"You think you can control me by scaring me?" she asked.

I took a step closer. "No. By reminding you what happens when you stop pretending."

Her breath hitched. "Pretending what?"

"That you don’t want this," I said, sneaking an arm around her waist, pushing her to me. My cock throbbed in my pants immediately her body pressed against mine. Our body heat mixed.

The silence that followed was a live wire between us.

She looked away first, her throat moving as she swallowed. "You’re insane."

"Probably," I said. "But not wrong."

She didn’t answer. Her shoulders were tight, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her bag. I could tell she was weighing her options — stay, leave, fight, surrender.

In the end, she sighed. "Where do you want me to sleep?"

Is she fucking with me right now?

I tilted my head. "My room."

Her jaw tightened. "Of course it’s your room."

"If you’re going to be a brat," I added, leaning us against the wall, caging her right there. "I’ll make you sleep right here in the open. Maybe then you’ll understand what it means to test me."

Her eyes widened slightly, then she looked away again. "You wouldn’t."

I smiled. "Try me."

That did it. She turned sharply and stormed up the stairs, muttering something under her breath I didn’t catch.

I followed, slower, more deliberate. Every step I took echoed her quick, uneven ones.

When she reached my room, she hesitated at the doorway. I could see her reflection in the mirror across the wall, the uncertainty, the defiance that never quite reached her eyes.

"Shower," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument as I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it onto the chair. The fabric hit the seat with a soft thud, but the command hung heavy in the air. "Then come to bed."

Her eyes snapped to me, disbelief flashing across her face. "I’m not sleeping with you."

A slow smile ghosted over my lips, not amusement, but something darker. "I didn’t ask you to."

She folded her arms, chin tilting up in that defiant way she knew got under my skin. "You mean it?"

I took a step closer, closing the space between us until the scent of her feminine perfume mixed with the faint smoke still clinging to my shirt. My gaze dropped briefly to her mouth before rising to meet her eyes again.

"I don’t say things I don’t mean," I said quietly. "You’ll sleep next to me. Nothing more."

Her brow furrowed, suspicion warring with something else, hesitation, maybe. Want.

"Why?" she demanded. "What game are you playing now?"

"No game." My voice was low, even. "You’re shaking, and you won’t admit you need to rest. So, you’ll shower, and you’ll lie down. Beside me. I’ll wrap my arm around your waist, your back to my chest as I whisper into your ears who you belong to as you fall asleep."

Her lips parted, a protest ready, but no words came. The silence stretched between us, thick, electric, and I could feel her pulse quicken even from where I stood.

"Do I look like I can’t take care of myself?" she whispered finally.

I let out a quiet breath. "You look like you haven’t slept in three days. Even though I’m sure you slept so good last night after cuming so hard in my mouth."

She stared at me for a long moment, eyes flicking to the bed and back to my face. "And if I say no?"

I met her gaze, steady, unflinching. "Then you’ll still end up there," I murmured. "Just means I’ll have to carry you."

Her glare faltered, just slightly, before she spun on her heel and muttered something under her breath.

For a few seconds, she just stared, like she didn’t trust the words, didn’t trust me. Then, with a tired sigh, she disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water soon filling the room.

I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, head lowered. The sound of her moving behind that door was maddening. Every shift, every splash of water sent my mind spiraling into places I swore I wouldn’t go again.

When she finally came out, steam followed her, her hair damp, her skin flushed. She wore one of my shirts.

She looked smaller in it. Softer. More beautiful.

I said nothing as she slipped into the other side of the bed, stiff as a statue. She lay facing away from me, the blanket pulled to her shoulder, pretending to sleep.

I gave her a minute. Maybe two. Then I reached out.

My hand found her waist, slow, careful. She froze.

"Relax," I murmured. "I said I wouldn’t touch you. Not like that. But like this."

She didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

"I just missed you," I said quietly. "That’s all."

The warmth of her back pressed against me, close enough to feel her heartbeat, fast, uneven, matching mine.

I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against her shoulder.

And for once, neither of us said a word. And after a few seconds I felt her relaxed into my touch.