Yes, Masters (Book 2 of Desire's Den)

Chapter 44 - Gideon

I found Emma and Mateo in bed together, both asleep, and both holding on to each other as if they couldn't bear having an inch between them. It was like a hug fest going on with Mateo hugging her against his chest while Emma had her arms on either side of his upper body, and it looked like she was gripping him as tightly as he was holding her. Her head was perfectly placed on his pec, using him as a pillow.

It shouldn't have made me feel jealous and possessive, but it did. I wanted to join them in bed, only so I could remove her from his arms and into my own.

Everything with Emma had turned uncertain. Sure, she was here with us now, but her touch, her attention, it wasn't guaranteed. We weren't in the same situation now as when we had an arrangement with her; the arrangement assured each of us would get some time alone with her, but this time, there was no assurance of it, and I found myself thirsting for every damn scrap of it, just like I knew Callan and Mateo did too. We would do all we could to gain her attention, even if it meant competing with each other—not because we didn't want the others to be with her, but because we wanted to secure our own time with her as well.

I'll admit though, even with the jealousy the sight of them together sparked, it also warmed something within me, like a sense of rightness, or peace. The feeling was alien, yet I'd noticed it had occurred once or twice back when we were in an arrangement with our girl. Truth be told, I wasn't all that keen on these new sugar-sweet feelings that tasted like cotton candy on my tongue; I didn't do well with change—yet...I couldn't say I regretted anything about Emma. She was my addiction, and now that we had her back within our grasp, I'd never let her go again; I'd accept the damn sugar rush I got whenever she was around, as long as I could have her stay.

Fucking hell, had anyone been able to listen in on the thoughts I had in Emma's presence, it would've made everyone second-guess my tough exterior.

In her sleep, Emma looked so innocent, like there was nothing tearing at her soul and no hate marring her thoughts. Though, the second I thought that, her mouth turned into a frown, and her innocence was replaced with something else...fear, perhaps? Unease, maybe?

Not liking the new look on Emma's face, I took the last few steps towards the bed and set out to do what I came here for. I wasn't the gentle guy who woke his girl up with a soft touch and a whispering 'wake up, sugarplumdrop' or whatever the hell these friends of mine probably said to her as they roused her from sleep.

Or, at the very least, I hadn't been that kind of guy.

With a clenched jaw, I stood over Emma awkwardly before reaching out and cupped her cheek. And like I'd done when I held her hand this morning, my thumb started stroking her skin with a reverent and soft touch that betrayed all the feelings I had for this girl—feelings I held close to my chest.

The second her eyes started fluttering, I withdrew my hand, but I was still bent over her when she blinked up at me, her eyes hazy and tired.

"Just a few more minutes, Daddy," she murmured as her eyes once again fell shut, and her breathing instantly evened out.

It didn't matter that she'd said it in her sleep, just that one fucking word, and I was hard as a damn rock. One word, and it brought back all the other instances where Emma had called me by my title as her dominant.

My role as a daddy was the ultimate dominant. In my opinion, it held an added touch that no other role could beat. Sir held a level of respect that few could compete with, their role was superior, and their title was meant to always remind their sub of it every time they had to address their dominant. But daddies... we were the protector, the provider. Not to mention, a baby needs guidance, and who better to give it to her than her daddy?