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  Finally, he huffs and just holds her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. It's wet with her tears and he has to resist the urge to lick them away. "It's supposed to feel good for the both of you," he says, feeling a little awkward for having to explain this to her. He doesn't expect her to clutch to him, holding him tight and hiding her face in his neck.

  "I know," she says, his breath like hot flames against his skin. "I thought I'd like it, that's why I let him," she whispers. She presses up to him like she's a child again, arms curling around his neck, every inch of her as close to him as she can get. Except she's not a child. She has curves now, full breasts that she's pushing up against his chest, soft thighs straddling his legs and perfect curves everywhere.

  He resists the urge to hold her closer. "You shouldn't rush these things," he says. "Your first time should be with someone you love," he says and releases her despite his wolf screaming for him to claim her for himself. He untangles himself from her and stands, pulling her up with him. "Go get cleaned up," he says, resisting the urge to just tear the offending clothes off.

  "'kay, Daddy," she whispers and he can't help the shiver that title elicits. She's stopped calling him that for a while, for which he's grateful for.

  It's torture when she starts again.

  He makes her accept one of the University offers and quits his job to move closer to her. He's hired immediately.

  Chapter Two: Heartbreak

  She has her first serious boyfriend when she's seventeen.

  His name is Sam and he comes from a fairly reputable family. His parents are both werewolves from a long line of wolves. She doesn't expect their relationship to last even though the boy is absolutely smitten with her because Sam is a werewolf. He might not look down on humans, but his family history of only marrying werewolves make is clear that marriage is not going to be on the table for them.

  At any rate, he isn't at the risk of losing her to him. While the boy stinks of arousal when he's with her, she smells aloof and mostly amused.

  He suspects that she agrees wot be with him because she's a little bit lonely in her new place and it's nice having a friend to spend all her free time with whenever she feels like it. He would put a stop to things if it isn't clear that she hasn't done anything with him other than innocent kisses and that he genuinely enjoys her company. The boy seems to respect her enough not to push her. Perhaps he is a little bit terrified of William too.

  When she comes back a few weeks later smelling like disappointment and tears, he doesn't ask questions. He lets her lean her head against his shoulder and gently cards his fingers through her hair. He presses a kiss to her temple.

  "Apparently he had been fucking my lab partner for months," she whispers, like she's telling him a secret. "It's funny cause I was the only one who couldn't smell it."

  He tightens his arm around her shoulder, heart growing heavy as she sighs. She doesn't smell too heartbroken about it, merely resigned. She has had a lifetime to get used to the fact that she's prey in a world full of predators. She's attending a medical school and is quickly proving herself to be the top of her year despite being the youngest to enter the acclaimed medical school. She's well-liked, but she's also human. There are Shifters who still think of humans as inferior. She liked Sam because he didn't treat her like she's anything less.

  He wonders how difficult it is to have him disposed of without getting caught. It's more complicated because his new company frowns against personal vendettas and the boy's family is as clean as they come, but he could probably get it done with minimal fuss.

  "He says he doesn't feel anything for her. It's just sex," she shrugs like it's not a big deal, but he knows it is. She hadn't loved him, but she enjoyed his company and it would have been humiliating to find out.

  "It's never just sex," he finds himself saying.

  She shrugs. It doesn't matter.

  Her lack of interest when it comes to sex cause him to be both relieved and worried. He wonders if her first experience had ruined things for her and if she's no longer interested in sex because of it. He hopes not. It isn't as though he had been having one night stands left and right. He's had a few flings, some women whom he thought would match, but they've never worked out well for anyone.

  He hasn't found anyone that he trusts enough to bring home, even. His territory is sacred and meant for just the two of them. He doesn't let anyone in and he's noticed that she doesn't bring anyone home either.

  She pulls away from him and disappears into the bathroom. They have a quiet dinner that night, but he doesn't mind. It's nice, having her around again. She had been spending so much time with Sam that he finds himself missing her.

  Afterwards, he bids her goodnight and watches as she drags her feet into the bedroom. She smells miserable and he wishes he could make things better for her somehow.

  His answer comes much later in the night, when he's startled from his sleep at the sound of his door opening.

  "Can I sleep with you tonight?" She's already hugging her pillow at his door, waiting for permission to come in.

  She's too old to be sharing a bed with him, but she's also just had her heart broken. He thinks that he should be more understanding of her heartbreak. He pats the bed in silent invitation and she tiptoes in, almost hesitant.

  He realizes his mistake a second later, when he sees she only has on an oversized sweater and nothing else. He wonders if she's even wearing underwear for a few seconds before deciding he's better off not knowing, keeping his gaze firmly on the pillow she's hugging close to her chest.

  "Thank you," she murmurs.

  The bed dips as she climbs into it, dropping her pillow next to his. He lifts his blanket, letting her slip under it.

  "I love you, daddy," she whispers softly in the dark, tipping her head up to press a shy kiss to the corner of his lips before pulling back and away. She turns her back to him, smelling like temptation.

  His heart skips a beat and then another. He thinks of pulling her back into his arms, deepening the kiss and getting what he wants. He imagines pinning her under him and showing her what a proper kiss should be like. She would make such lovely little noises.

  He refrains. "Love you too, puppet," he responds. If his voice is deeper than usual, he hopes she doesn't notice.

  It doesn't help at all when she shuffles up to him, pressing her back to his chest and shifting his arms so she's cushioning herself in his arms.

  "Puppet," he growls, unable to stop himself from nuzzling his chin to her temple. She's so lovely and soft like this, leaning up against him and trusting him to just hold her without doing anything more. He's so sorely tempted. He sighs. "Your birthday's coming up in a week. Do you want to have a party?" he asks. He knows she has made few friends at the University. Perhaps letting her pursue a relationship with Sam had been a bad idea. The boy had taken up much of her time and made it difficult for her to get to know others.

  She shakes her head. "No," she says for good measure. "Just you and me. Like always" She says and curls into his chest, carving a space for her in his arms.

  He distracts himself with thoughts of work and pointedly does not think of how good she feels in his arms, how perfectly she fits there.

  Chapter Three: Innocent

  It becomes a routine that he is too selfish to stop. She doesn't if she could join him in bed at night. Instead, she seem to have taken that night as a permission to slip into his bedroom every night thereafter. She climbs into his bed, making a space for herself at his side. But not before pressing a shy kiss on the corner of his mouth. It's an exquisite sort of torture.

  More than once, he thinks of reeling her in every time she does it, yanking her back before she can pull away so he can deepen the kiss, lick into her mouth and show her what a proper kiss is supposed to be like. But that would be both selfish and wrong so he wraps his arms around her waist, tugging her in and fitting her close to his chest. He's gotten used to having her in his bed, her sweet scent permeatin
g the air and mixing with his own.

  He thought he had gotten used to the way she smelled, but his scent mixed with hers in such close proximity makes him dizzy with want, the wolf side of him desperate to claim her for his own. He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking off the fog as he lets her shifts his arms into a more comfortable position for herself.

  He thought it would be harder to sleep with her so close, but it's the opposite. He sleeps better than he's ever slept before.

  He wakes before her every morning to deal with the hard-on from sleeping so close to her. She's so perfect and soft in the morning too, especially when he has to fold the blanket off himself to climb out of the bed. He allows himself a glimpse of her then, all sleep-soft and completely unaware of how much he wants her.

  He disgusts himself sometimes.

  He jerks off in the bathroom like a teenager and vehemently does not think of soft skin under his body, lush lips parted in little gasping sobs. He comes to the thought of her arching up to him, the warmth of her skin against his own and washes away his guilt and self-loathing in steaming hot water and soap that smells like cherry blossoms because it's her favorite.

  There are times when he's glad she's human and now is one of them. If she was a wolf, she would be able to tell exactly what he had been doing in the bathroom the moment he stepped out. He turns his back to her and changes into his work clothes even though she is still asleep.

  When he's dressed, he rubs his palm to her cheek. "Time to wake up," he says, knowing how much she hates sleeping in even on a weekend. He allows himself the indulgence of leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Wake up, puppet," he murmurs, inhaling her scent deep in his lungs, wishing he could keep her here forever.

  She smells like a virgin still and he knows she hasn't done anything with anyone since breaking up with the boy, Sam. It had surprised him, really, when he found that she hasn't had sex with the boy. He's a year older than them and she's not yet eighteen, but most teenagers don't really hesitate before going after what they want to make themselves feel good.

  Then again, his pup has always been particularly goal-oriented. She needs to work so much harder than most to get where she is and he's intensely proud of her for what she's achieved.

  Her birthday is a quiet affair, celebrated a day late because she had an exam on the day of her birthday and she needed to focus. He purchased a car for her, a stunning silver Sypder that the dealer had assured him would be safe even for beginner drivers. She already knows how to drive, but she has to count on him to drive her places because they share a vehicle.

  "I don't need my own car," she says, looking just a little bit disappointed, like she had been expecting something else.

  "You're going to need it to go to work, wouldn't you?" he says.

  She gives him a cryptic look, one that suggests she is hiding a secret she's not ready to share with him yet and he bites his tongue to keep himself from demanding to know it. He's supposed to give her space. "Thank you, Daddy," she teases, leaning up to press a kiss directly onto his lips.

  He tries not to let it get to him. One of these days, he knows he's going to have to tell her to stop testing boundaries, stepping past that invisible line in the sand and see how he would react. There is no line. He would give her the world.

  She climbs into the seat of the car and caresses the steering wheel, smiling brightly at him. "It's beautiful," she says.

  He's too busy looking at her to see the car at all. "Look at you," he says, taking a picture of her in the seat of the car so he can distract himself from how good she looks. "All grown up."

  She grins at him, carefree and ecstatic. They had just reached home from a very delicious and possibly overpriced dinner. The waitress had mistaken her for his wife and instead of upsetting her, she had a peculiar look on her face that he didn't quite comprehend.

  They rest early that night. He's had a long day at work and she's just finished all her exams, so she's exhausted.

  When it comes time for him to head to bed, she surprises him by following him up to his room and climbing into the bed with him. He tries not to think about how well she fits against him, all curled up and perfect.

  It should worry him that this has turned into their new normal. Having her in his arms like this feels right. He closes his eyes-

  "Do you think there's something wrong with me?" she whispers in the dark.

  He startles. He had been close to falling asleep when her soft voice woke him. "Baby?" he asks without thinking and tenses.

  She doesn't seem to mind, nuzzling up to him with a happy little sound. She's turns around some time when he was drowsing so that she's pressing her breasts to his chest, blinking up at him, the perfect picture of innocence. Surely she's doing this on purpose. "Do you think there's something wrong with me, Daddy?" she clarifies.

  "There's nothing wrong with you," he says automatically, arms tightening around her torso without thinking. It presses her even closer and he regrets doing it, immediately loosening his hold on her.

  "There must be," she insists.

  "What makes you think there's something wrong with you, baby?" he asks.

  "Nobody wants to have sex with me," she says.

  He sees red. He swears under his breath and shuts his eyes for a moment, trying to push away the thoughts of her and sex with someone else. "That can't be true," he says.

  "It is," she sighs, like she's resigned herself to never having sex with anyone. "They have these parties in uni where everyone just sorts of have sex with everyone and I'm never invited."

  Because he would kill anyone who thinks they could touch her without taking full responsibility. She sounds just a little bit disappointed and he tries to think about it from her perspective. "What about Sam?" he asks and flinches when her scent sours with disappointment.

  "I never really clicked with him," she says. "He didn't make me feel safe. Not like you," she adds that last bit softly. Then, like a light-bulb going off in her brain, she asks, "Would you have sex with me?"

  He feels as though all the blood in his body has gone to his cock. His wolf howls with joy. Yes, yes, yes. Mate. Claim. He chokes those back. "That's not- You can't ask that, darling," he says. He shouldn't have let her sleep in his bed the past few days. And he had been doing such a good job raising her prior to this too. He must have fucked up at some point, done something wrong to make her ask something so perverse.

  "Why not?" she asks, looking completely innocent, clearly expecting him to answer.

  "It's not- It's not something you do with family. Surely you know that," he says. She's studying to be a doctor. She's the top of her year. There is no way she doesn't know.

  "You're not related to me by blood," she says softly, eyes wide, hopeful. "I'm adopted, Will," she reasons like he's the one being unreasonable.

  A better man would tell her that it doesn't matter if they're related by blood. He practically raised her and he's in a position of power. He would be taking advantage of her.

  "You've taught me everything else I know. Why not this?" she persists.

  "This is different," he says.

  "Please," she leans up until her breath fans his chin. She looks so perfect like this, offering herself up to him like some sort of virgin sacrifice- exactly like a virgin sacrifice.

  He presses her back, hating himself.

  He doesn't expect her to surge forward, refusing to be pushed aside so easily. He doesn't expect her to throw herself on him, pinning him down with the weight of her body, legs straddling his hips, the shirt she's wearing hiking up to her waist and showing him what he has been suspecting for the past several days. She's wearing nothing underneath.

  His hands grasp her hips almost instinctively, worried that she would fall of he lets go. They used to play like this, when she was much, much younger. There's nothing innocent about the way she's leaning against his cock, her opening wet with arousal even though he hasn't done anything at all.

  The shirt stretches a
round her breasts and he can see through the thin material that her nipples are pebbled and pink, just begging to be kisses, sucked, and fondled. His cock twitches, growing harder still.

  Her eyes glitter with unshed tears, mouth pursed in a lovely pout that he longs to kiss away. "Please," she whispers, leaning forward to press her lips to his. It's not like her usual kisses. She doesn't pull away, kissing him on the mouth, pushing past the fold of his lips and trying to lick inwards. It's wet and slick and she whines when she doesn't get her way straight away.

  He really has spoiled her, giving her everything she wants. He knows he should put his foot down and deny her this. It is not proper- it will never be accepted in the eyes of society. She deserves someone better, someone who can take care of her and provide her a peaceful, happy life.

  Chapter Four: Knot

  He really should push her away.

  He twists them around and pins her underneath his massive weight, opening her mouth with his tongue and licking inwards, kissing every inch of her while his hands work on tearing her flimsy shirt off, getting her naked underneath him. She's always been such a little thing, sweet and innocent.

  There's something perverse about the way she's spread open now, legs wrapped around his hips, rocking up insistently with inexperience, jerky thrusts. Her arms are wrapped around his neck, clinging tightly.

  "Please," she breathes. "I want- I want you so much," she whines, her voice going breathy and soft.