Your Girlfriend Calls Me Daddy

Chapter 163 - 164 | Drain Integration

She laughed, watery and broken. "This is insane."

"Yeah."

"I’m supposed to be competing with you. Proving I’m better."

"You are better. At tactics. At planning. At actually showing up to morning training on time."

"Then why—"

"Because better doesn’t mean incompatible." I pulled her closer, until our foreheads were touching. "You can be smarter than me and still fit."

"Fit where?"

I touched her chest, right over her heart. The drain pulsed stronger at the contact, syncing our heartbeats. "Here."

She covered my hand with hers, fingers intertwining. "If I do this—if I actually let myself—"

"What?"

"I need to know it’s not just the drain. That you actually want me."

"I want you."

"How do I know you’re not just saying that because—"

I kissed her hard enough to shut her up. Poured everything into it. The want that had been building since Friday. The frustration at her constant walls. The weird protective thing that happened when she looked at me like I might leave.

When we broke apart, she was breathing hard.

"Believe me now?" I asked.

"Getting there."

"What do you need?"

She bit her lip. Looked away. Looked back. "More."

"More what?"

"More of—" She gestured between us. "This. Whatever this is. I need to know it’s not just—"

I picked her up.

She yelped, legs wrapping around my waist automatically. "What are you doing?"

"Showing you it’s not just once."

"Rome, we can’t—"

I sat in one of the conference chairs and settled her in my lap, still hard, still ready. She stared down at me with wide eyes.

"We absolutely can."

She stared down at me, hair falling around her face like a curtain. "You’re insane."

"And you’re dripping on my thigh."

Her face went crimson. "I am not—"

"Feel for yourself."

She did. Her hand disappeared between us and came back wet, fingers glistening. She stared at them like they’d betrayed her.

"See?" I said.

"This doesn’t prove anything."

"No?"

"No. This is just—" She circled her hips experimentally, grinding against me. "Biology. Physical response to stimulus."

"Sure."

"It doesn’t mean I want—"

I grabbed her hips and pulled her down, sliding inside in one smooth motion. She gasped, her hands flying to my shoulders for balance, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks.

"Still just biology?" I asked.

"Yes." But her voice shook, betraying her. "Obviously."

I thrust up and she moaned, a sound that went straight through me. "Sounds convincing."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

She kissed me, angry and desperate, her hips rolling as she found a rhythm. The drain opened wider, pulling her Essentia in waves that matched her movements. Vanilla and fire and that sharp intelligence, all cycling through me while she moved above me like she was trying to prove a point.

I let her set the pace. Fast and rough, chasing something she couldn’t name. Her small breasts bounced under her blouse and I wanted to rip it open but settled for gripping her ass, helping her move, guiding her rhythm.

"Fuck," she gasped. "This is—I’m—"

"Close?"

"Don’t talk."

"Why not?"

"Because when you talk I—" She cut off with a moan.

"You what?"

"I like it." Frustrated. Honest. Raw. "I like your voice."

My ego did a victory lap around my brain stem.

"Say my name," I said.

"No."

I thrust up harder. "Say it."

"Rome!" It came out strangled, desperate. "Rome, please—"

"Please what?"

"More."

I gave her more. Faster. Deeper. The drain cycling between us so fast I couldn’t tell where my pleasure ended and hers began. We were connected at every level—physical, emotional, spiritual. Two people becoming something else entirely.

She came first, going rigid in my lap, her mouth open in a silent scream. The drain spiked and her Essentia flooded through me, vanilla and fire and something that tasted like surrender, like walls finally coming down.

I followed ten seconds later, pulling her down hard as I emptied inside her. The healing ability activated automatically, glowing faintly where we connected, and she gasped as the warmth spread through her.

"What was that?"

"Healing."

"From what?"

"Comes with the package."

She sat there, breathing hard, my cum dripping down her thighs and her face still flushed. "You have a healing ability?"

"Bodily fluids. They heal people."

"That’s..." She processed this, her analytical mind cataloguing implications. "Deeply concerning from a consent standpoint."

"Everyone I sleep with gets a stat boost and accelerated recovery. Yes."

"And you didn’t mention this before because?"

"Didn’t come up."

She laughed, surprised and genuine. "You’re terrible."

"You love it."

"I really don’t."

"Liar."

She kissed me instead of arguing. Soft this time. Almost sweet. Like she was trying to memorize the taste.

When she pulled back, she looked different. Less guarded. More present. Like she’d finally stopped performing and started existing.

"What happens now?" she asked.

"Now you get dressed. We pretend to be professionals. And tomorrow you show up to training like nothing happened."

"That’s it?"

"Unless you want to stay the night."

"I can’t."

"Didn’t think so."

She climbed off my lap carefully, wincing. "I’m going to be sore tomorrow."

"Good."

"Good?"

"You’ll remember this every time you sit down."

She grabbed her panties from the floor and threw them at my face. "You’re the worst."

I caught them. Grinned. "And yet."

"And yet nothing." But she was smiling as she fixed her skirt, trying to restore some semblance of professional appearance. "This was a one-time thing."

"Sure it was."

"I’m serious."

"So am I."

She found her portfolio and started gathering the scattered papers, trying to look professional while her legs still shook. I watched her bend over and immediately wanted round three.

"Stop staring at my ass," she said without looking.

"Can’t help it."

"Try harder."

"No."

She straightened and turned, portfolio clutched against her chest like armor. "I’m leaving."

"Okay."

"And we’re not doing this again."

"If you say so."

"I mean it."

"I believe you."

"You’re humoring me."

"Little bit."

QUEST UPDATE: ORCHESTRA OF ANIMOSITY

NOEL STARK: CLAIMED

AFFECTION: 64%

STATUS: ACTIVE

BOND STRENGTH: MODERATE

ESSENTIA COMPATIBILITY: VERY HIGH

NOTE: Subject displays significant emotional conflict regarding attachment. Recommend continued engagement to stabilize connection. Drain integration at 34% and climbing.