Nash (Daddies of Justice #3)

Chapter 10

Rosie

R osie absentmindedly twirled a golden curl around her finger as she sat cross-legged on the playroom rug, surrounded by a colorful array of dolls and teddy bears.

Her mind was far from play though, drifting back to the charged encounter with Nash last night. Her body still tingled where his big hands had gripped her hips, the sting of his spanks lingering deliciously on her rear. She couldn't stop replaying the moment—his incredible erection pressing against her stomach, their hearts beating in sync, the intensity in his eyes betraying how badly he wanted her . . .

And that orgasm. Holy macaroni.

"Hey sweetie, you doing okay?" Savannah's gentle voice snapped Rosie out of her lust-hazed reverie. The petite redhead plopped down beside her, smoothing her festive red sparkly skirt. "Organizing this Christmas party is kicking my butt! I needed a breather. By the way, we have a ton of cupcakes left over and I couldn’t eat another bite. Take them back to Nash’s if you like. You look like you could do with some cheering up. They have pink frosting . . ."

Rosie bit her lip, debating whether to confide in her friend. But the tantalizing secret was bubbling up inside her, begging to burst free. "Something happened with Nash last night," she blurted out. "He . . . spanked me. And it felt like more, like this deeper connection between us."

"Oooh girl, do tell!" Savannah's eyes sparkled with intrigue. She leaned in conspiratorially. "Those Marks men, I'm telling you. They act so tough and principled, but get 'em in the bedroom and they know just how to make a Little weak at the knees."

Rosie giggled, relieved to be sharing the experience with someone who truly understood. "I may have provoked him a tiny bit," she admitted with a mischievous grin. "But the way he grabbed me, I could feel how much he wanted it . . . wanted me."

"Nash has been head over heels for you for ages, Rosie. Any fool can see it," Savannah said, twisting a curly strand around her finger. "If anyone can penetrate that cool, collected exterior of his, it's you, Rosie-Posie."

Rosie's heart fluttered at the thought. Head over heels? Could it be that Nash Marks was actually in love with her? The revelation made her ache for him even more.

"I probably ought to be on my best behavior now, though, after last night's naughtiness," Rosie sighed wistfully, smoothing her frilly skirt.

Savannah shot her a wry smile. "Honey, in my experience, sometimes being a little bad is the quickest way to get the attention you crave. A bit of brattiness, some strategic teasing and flirting . . ." She winked suggestively. "You enjoyed being spanked. And it sounds like he enjoyed it, too. So, what does it matter if you end up needing a little more discipline again?"

Wheels turning, a slow smirk curved Rosie's glossy pink lips. More discipline! Maybe that was the answer. The more rules she broke, the more attention he'd give her. And sooner or later, she knew, she just knew , he'd be giving her more than just a spanking.

Good girl be damned! Her Daddy Dom was in there, she just knew it. And she wasn't going to stop until she drew him out to play.

Rosie leaned forward conspiratorially. "Spill the beans, then. How do I get from spanking to . . . you know? Naughty town?"

Savannah tapped a perfectly manicured nail against her chin. "Well, Nash has always been the strictest of the brothers. The most principled and by-the-book. It will take a lot of hard work and dedication. But . . ." Her eyes sparkled with mirth. "He definitely enjoys the verbal sparring matches you two get into. I bet it's like foreplay for him."

Rosie snorted. "Ha! I knew it. That man argues with me about everything from politics to the proper way to make a martini. Drives me around the bend."

"Everyone here has noticed your little battles of wit over the last couple years. The sexual tension is thicker than Blake's biceps." Savannah nudged Rosie playfully. "Just keep stoking those flames, girl. Be your usual sassy self, give him some lip, do something naughty, and he won't be able to resist."

Mind awhirl with delicious possibilities, Rosie nodded. "Roger that." She paused a moment, looking around to check there were definitely no other Littles in here. “Savannah,” she asked quietly. “Have you ever . . . you know , while you were being spanked?”

Savannah’s eyes widened. “You mean climaxed?”

Rosie nodded.

Savannah grinned. “One or two times. But only with Blake. I think it only really happens when the connection goes deeper than a bit of fun.”

“You mean, like . . . love?”

Savannah grinned. “Maybe. What do you think?”

Rosie bit her lip. “You might just be someone who really enjoys being spanked.”

“Well, sure, there’s that. But you have to feel pretty freaking safe and good around someone to let go like that. Or, at least, that’s how it is for me.”

Rosie didn’t say anything in response to that. She was dumbstruck. Because Savannah was right.

Rosie was in love with Nash. She had been in love with him ever since he’d marched into that casino and carried her out telling her he was her guardian angel.

“Honey?” asked Savannah. “You okay? You want to play something?”

Rosie glanced at the clock, pulse picking up tempo. "Actually, it's time for me to head home with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dominating. So . . . wish me luck!"

"Oh, you don't need luck," Savannah called after Rosie's retreating form. "You've got him wrapped around your little finger already. Even if he doesn't know it yet!"

***

The walk back to Nash's apartment stretched out in awkward silence, the chilly night air doing little to cool Rosie's heated nerves. They'd avoided each other all day at The Den, Nash burying himself in paperwork while Rosie flitted around organizing the supply closet. But now, with the sky an inky black above and the promise of an empty apartment ahead, the unspoken thing between them swelled to a deafening roar.

Rosie clutched the box of leftover cupcakes from Savannah’s party planning committee, focusing on the crinkle of the pink bakery box, a tenuous distraction from all the wickedness swirling through her head.

As Nash unlocked the door and ushered her inside, she took a deep fortifying breath. For some reason, going back home tonight felt different to other nights. Was it because of the spanking last night? Or was it because she’d just realized she was in love with Nash Marks?

In the kitchen, Nash cleared his throat gruffly. "So, ah, how's your, uh . . ." He gestured lamely toward her backside. "I've been thinking about your ass all day. Since I spanked it. Shit." He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. "I mean, is it okay? Does it hurt?"

Rosie bit her lip, a frisson of heat licking down her spine at his words. She set the cupcake box on the counter and turned to face him, remembering Savannah's advice. Keep up the chemistry.

"It's a little sore," she said, injecting a purr into her voice. "But in a good way." She cocked her head, peering up at him through her lashes. She knew she was breaking a rule in saying this, as they weren't meant to flirt, but still, she asked: "Would you like to see it?"

Nash's eyes flared, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He paced the small kitchen, shaking his head. "Jesus, Rosie. You're testing me to my fucking limits, you know that?"

She leaned back against the counter, a thrill sweeping through her at the barely leashed intensity emanating from him. "Is that so?"

"You know how goddamn attracted to you I am." His voice was a low growl, his gaze raking over her. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "All I want to do, right now, is bend you over this counter and fuck your damn brains out."

Rosie's breath hitched, arousal blooming thick and fast in her core. She slowly slid the box of cupcakes aside, holding his scorching stare as she splayed her palms on the cool Formica.

"I dare you," she whispered.

Nash went utterly still, a coiled predator poised to strike. The air crackled between them, seconds stretching into an eternity.

Then he lunged, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss as he hauled her against him. Rosie moaned into his mouth, finally, finally getting her hands on all those ripped muscles she'd been lusting after for two long years.

Then he broke away, panting harshly against her lips. "Last chance to back out, baby girl."

"Don't you dare stop." She nipped at his jaw. "I want you, Nash. Every inch of you."

With a groan, he spun her around, bending her over the counter just like he'd promised. "Fuck, Rosie," he bit out, yanking down her leggings. "Watching this sexy ass sway around The Den all day, remembering how it felt squirming over my lap, your little panting breaths, your whimpers . . ."

She gasped as cool air hit her bare skin, Nash's large palm skimming over the curve of her ass. "Please," she whined, arching into his touch. "I need you."

"I know you do." His touch turned into a squeeze, his blunt fingertips digging into her flesh. "And you're gonna get me. Every. Hard. Inch."

Rosie moaned, rocking back against him, desperate for more. Nash's hand landed on her ass with a smack, the stinging sensation making her gasp and moan louder. He wasn't gentle, but she didn't want him to be. He smacked her again, and again, the hot, tingling sensations building up between her thighs.

"You like that, naughty girl?" he purred in her ear. "Am I gonna make you come again?”

"Yes, Daddy!" she cried out, her toes curling in her heels. "More! More, please!"

Nash's next spank was harder, and Rosie arched her back, bracing herself against the counter as he continued to open up her flesh with his expert palm. "Say it again," he growled, his erection an insistent presence against her ass. "Tell me what you want."

"I want your cock, Daddy. Every inch of it. Inside me. Now."

With a growl, Nash reached for his belt, unbuckling his pants and freeing his erection. She could feel it, long and thick and warm, nudging against her buttock. Then, she whimpered as the head of his dick teased her entrance, taunting her with its delicious thickness.

"Rosie," he growled, his voice transformed by lust and need. "Do you feel that? That's how fucking hard I am for you. Every damn day for the last two years, Rosie Love. Hard as fucking rock."

"Hurry, Daddy," she moaned, spreading her legs wide. "I need to come. I need you to come inside me."

The sound of a condom wrapper tearing filled the air. A moment later, the blunt head of his cock was nudging at her entrance, seeking entry. "You ready?"

"Yes," she panted, back arching. "Now, Nash!"

He didn't answer her, plunging instead, driving into her in one long, deep thrust. Her eyes watered up with the overwhelming sensation, the fullness of him filling every aching crevice, stretching her like he'd always belonged there.

Rosie's pussy clenched around him, her entire body singing with pleasure. She'd never felt so complete, so utterly possessed by another human being before.

"Fuck, Rosie," he groaned, burying his face in her neck as he started to move. "You feel better than my wildest fucking dreams."

"Fuck me, Daddy," she cried out, clawing at the countertop for purchase. "Make me yours!"

Nash obliged, his hips slamming into hers with a fervor that bordered on primal.

Rosie arched her back, meeting him thrust for thrust, their moans and gasps filling the quiet kitchen.

His hot breath tickled her ear, his teeth nipping at her skin as his cock plunged relentlessly into her tight heat. His grip on her hips tightened, grinding her against him as he picked up the pace. Slamming in and out, setting a relentless rhythm that had the blood pounding in her ears.

Her nails dug into the counter, heedless of the pain, as pleasure uncoiled low in her belly.

"There you go," he growled in her ear. "Take it, baby girl. Take everything I’ve got.”

Together, they hurtled toward the edge, their cries of ecstasy echoing through the penthouse. His grip on her hips tightened, grinding her against him as he picked up the pace. Slamming in and out, setting a relentless rhythm that had the blood pounding in her ears. Her nails dug into the counter, heedless of the pain, as pleasure uncoiled low in her belly.

Her orgasm detonated without warning, tearing through her like a freight train. White-hot pleasure exploded through her veins, obliterating all thought, all reason. Dimly, she was aware of Nash's fingers digging into her hips, lifting her even higher as he groaned out her name. His hot seed spilled deep within her, sealing their connection.

Breathless, they both slumped against the counter, panting and spent. Nash's forehead rested against her neck, his chest heaving with exertion. Rosie closed her eyes, savoring the moment. The feel of him inside her, their bodies entwined.

"So," she said, once she'd caught her breath. "That was . . . unexpected."

His chuckle rumbled through her. "You got that right."

She turned her head, their lips mere centimeters apart. "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"That depends," he drawled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "What do you think it means?"

"That we're . . . together?" she asked, scarcely daring to hope. "You really are my Daddy?"

Nash brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "We' re partners, Rosie. In every sense of the word."

Her heart swelled, and she leaned in, capturing his lips with hers. "Partners it is, then," she whispered against his mouth.

“Wait,” said Nash, a smile creeping across his mouth. “Didn’t I see some cupcakes somewhere?”

“Yes, Daddy,” said Rosie. “You did.”

Nash located the now slightly crumpled box from behind Rosie and grabbed a cupcake. “Open wide, darling.”

She did as she was told, and he pushed the pink cupcake between her lips. “Tasty?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded, her mouth full of strawberry frosting. “Very good, Daddy. But not as good as you.”

“Careful,” he warned her. “Or Daddy’s gonna make you test out that theory in a while.”

She grinned, partly because of the joke he’d made, but mostly because, for the first time ever, he’d referred to himself as her Daddy. And boy oh boy, it felt good. Better than good. It felt like finally, life was working out the way she wanted.