Chapter 14
Hannah
Back to Now…
Leonardo kissed me like he owned me, his tongue pushing past my lips to claim my mouth. I moaned against him, my hands clutching at his shoulders.
He pulled back, his breathing ragged. “Say it, Hannah. Say you’re my sugar baby, and I’m your daddy.”
The words should have sounded ridiculous, but coming from his lips, they sent a thrill through me.
“I’m your sugar baby,” I whispered, my face burning.
“And?” His hand slid up my thigh, pushing my dress higher.
“You’re my… daddy.”
The word hung between us, charged with meaning. His eyes flashed with approval.
“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing another searing kiss to my lips before pulling away. “I think this calls for a celebration.”
Leonardo moved to the bar with the easy grace of a predator. He selected a bottle of champagne,popping the cork with practiced ease. The sound made me jump, too reminiscent of gunshots after what I’d witnessed.
“Nervous?” he asked, pouring the bubbly liquid into two crystal flutes.
“Just wondering if all your dates end with dead bodies and champagne.”
“Only the special ones.”
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He handed me a glass and settled into a leather armchair across from me, his legs spread in a casual display of masculine confidence. He sipped his champagne, watching me over the rim.
The silence between us stretched, electric and dangerous. I took a sip of my champagne, the bubbles dancing on my tongue, helping to calm my frayed nerves.
“Do you know what I want right now?” he asked, his silky voice sending shivers down my spine.
I shook my head, unable to find my voice.
“I want
ant you to strip for me.” He said it casually as if asking me to pass t
My eyes widened, and I nearly choked on my champagne. “Here? Now?”
“Yes.‘ His eyes never left mine. “I want to see what I’m paying for.”
A flash of indignation shot through me. “I’m not just merchandise.”
the salt.
The not. You’re my sugar baby. And I’m your…”
His lips curved into that dangerous smile. “No,”
, you’r
“Daddy,” I whispered, the word making my face
burn..
“Good girl. Now stand up and take off your clothes. Make it good.”
I set my glass down on the coffee table, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. I’d never done anything like this before. But something about his commanding presence made me want to please him, to see approval flash in those dark eyes.
I stood on shaky legs, taking a deep breath to steady myself. If I was going to do this, I’d do it right. I thought of all those burlesque performances I’d watched online, fascinated by the confidence of the dancers.
“No music?” I asked, surprising myself with my boldness.
1/3
Chapter 14
Leonardo reached for his phone, and seconds later, a slow, sensual beat filled the room. “Better?”
I nodded, letting the rhythm wash over me. I closed my eyes for a moment, finding the beat with my body. When I opened them again, I locked my gaze with
with his and began to move.
My hips swayed slowly as I reached behind my back to lower the zipper of Emma’s borrowed dress. I turned around, giving him my back as I let the fabric slide down just enough to reveal my bare shoulders. A glance over my shoulder showed me he was watching intently, his champagne
forgotten.
“Keep going.” he commanded, his voice rougher than before.
I let the dress fall lower, exposing the clasp of my bra, and then stopped. Turning to face him again, I held the dress against my chest with one hand while the other traced a path from my neck down between my breasts.
“You’re a natural tease,” he observed, adjusting his position in the chair.
I smiled, feeling a surge of power. Here was this dangerous man, this killer, watching me with undisguised hunger. And I was the one making him shift uncomfortably in his seat.
I let the dress fall to my waist, revealing my black lace bra. His eyes darkened as they reamed over my chest, and I felt my nipples harden under his gaze, visible through the delicate fabric.
“Nice,” he murmured appreciatively.
The dress slipped lower, pooling at my feet. I stepped out of it carefully, now standing before him in just my bra, matching panties, and heels. The cool air of the room raised goosebumps on my skin or maybe it was the way he was looking at me like he wanted to devour me whole,
I reached behind my back, unclasping my bra with practiced ease. I held the cups in place for a moment, enjoying the anticipation on his face, then let it fall away.
“Fuck,” he breathed, leaning forward in his chair. “Your tits are perfect.”
I cupped them in my hands, running my thumbs over my nipples. “You like them?”
Td like them better in my mouth,” he growled,
I laughed softly, hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my panties. “Patience, Daddy.”
His eyes flashed at the word, and I saw his jaw clench. I turned around again, bending slightly as I slid my panties down my legs, giving him a view that made him curse under his breath. When I faced him again, I was completely naked except for my heels.
“Come here,” he ordered, his voice strained.
I shook my head, continuing my slow dance. “You said strip. I’m not done yet.”
I ran my hands over my body, touching myself the way I imagined he wanted to touch me. One hand slid between my legs, and 1 gasped at how wet I already was. His eyes followed every movement, his breathing visibly heavier.
Finally, I stepped out of my heels and stood naked before him, vulnerable yet strangely powerful.
“You are fucking exquisite, he said, his accent thicker with desire.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I replied, surprised at how natural the word felt now.
He
stood
up, and I thought he would touch me, but instead, he pointed toward a doorway on the far side of the suite.
Through there is the bedroom. You’ll find an outfit I selected for you in the walk–in closet. His eyes raked over my naked body one more time. “Put it on and come back to me.”
I blinked in surprise. “You want me to get dressed? After all that?”
‘I want you to wear what I chose for you. His tone brooked no argument. “Go,”
Naked, I padded across the plush carpet to the bedroom. It was as luxurious as the rest of the suite, dominated by a massive bed with black silk
Chapter 14
sheets. The walk–in closet was bigger than my bedroom, lined with designer clothes still bearing tags.
In the center, laid out on a
in a velvet–covered bench, was what I assumed to be “my outfit–if you could call it that. It consisted of a tiny black thong that was mostly strings, a matching bra that was more decorative than functional, and a sheer black robe that would hide absolutely nothing,
