Elena woke to the feel of Marcus’s mouth on the darkest bruise across her left breast. The hotel room was still dim, heavy curtains blocking most of the morning light. His tongue dragged slowly over the tender skin, then he sucked again—harder this time—deepening the mark while she was still half-asleep.

She made a soft sound. His hand was already between her legs, two fingers sliding through the mess he had left in her the night before and pushing back inside.

“Morning,” he said against the bruise. “Still full of me.”

Elena’s hips moved against his hand without thought. “Daddy…”

“You’re going to stay that way.” He added a third...