Chapter 65
Daphne stiftes a scream at the sound of me ripping her panties apart. I raise the tagged scrap in my hands up to my face and inhale. They’re soaked, rippling with the scent of her.
I tuck the ruined panties into my pocket for safekeeping. Then I grab Daphne’s wrists and steer them up to the ceting strap overhead.
“ok that “torder. “Don’t even think or letting go until I give you permission.”
She obeys with an audible gulp. Reaching up puts her breasts right in my face, which is conveniently exactly where I want them to be.
But she’s already breaking one of my rules. Tsk–tsk. I tweak her nipple and she cries out briefly. “What did I tell you?” 1 creon.
She nods frantically as she stammers “Tyes, sir! Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Don’t forget it again, or I won’t be so forgiving.” Satisfied for now, I turn my attention back to her body. I pass a thumb across her swollen lips, down the curve of her throat, between the valley of her breasts. She wriggles and moans with every sweep of my barely–there fingertips, but she keeps hold of the ceiling strap.
I drop lower and lower until I’m cradling her womb against my palms. It’s incredible to me that she’s so full of life. Our life, that we created.
Something whispers in the back of my mind that we will need to do this a lot more in the future. That I need to fill her up like this again and again and again and again and again and a–fucking–gain. Keep her barefoot and pregnant and moaning and submissive.
Fucking hell, I might come already.
I dip a hand between her legs and bask in the sounds she makes when I stroke her wet lips with my fingers. She wants me to at least graze her clit; that much is blindingly obvious. Her body says it all.
But I don’t. I get close, skirting around it on every side… before moving past. Every time I do, she wails.
“Pasha,” Daphne whines. She’s literally dripping all over my fingers and starting to shake with need.
“Please.”
I lift my fingers to her lips and she sucks them clean, not once looking away from me. Fuck. Daphne has a dirty side and I think I’m in love.
With the moment, I correct in my head. I’m in love with the moment.
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Me Painting. Now He Regrets
Chapter 65
This “punishment” was meant for her.
But I’m starting to wonder who the fuck I’m actually tormenting right about now.
Daphine cries out in a plaintive mewl when I latch onto a nipple. “Oh, God, Pasha… Please, it’s too much!”
My gaze meets hers. Can she see how fucking badly I want her? How I’m riding the edge just as much as she is? And I’m not even unzipped yet.
“I wonder if… No, you know what?” I muse. “I’m certain. I can make you come right now without putting even a finger inside you.”
“W–what?” Daphne says, eyes half–lidded with desire but flush with concern that I might leave her wanting. “But…but…”
“Don’t worry, my little flame.” I can’t help but smirk at her panic. “You’re not leaving this car until I’ve emptied myself into you.” I spread her cheeks apart, teasing her slit from behind with the tips of my fingers. She shivers, her breath catching. “But I want to see you fall apart just from my touch. My words. Maybe then you’ll understand just how completely you belong to me.”
“I do!” Daphne whines again. “I’m yours! I swear, I’m yours!”
“And yet you covered my mark.” The words come out a hell of a lot calmer than I feel them. “I’m not always going to be there to protect you. To save you from assholes like Conrad. Why the hell do you think I marked you to begin with?”
She furrows her brow and tries to grind herself to a greedy release, but I know her little game and I put a stop to it by pinning her hips in place.
“Tell me.” I tip her chin up when she tries to look down. “Look at me and tell me why I marked you. Why I want you to wear my mark for the whole world to see. Show me you understand.”
“To… to protect me.” Daphne chews on her bottom lip and tries to shift herself again, but I hold her in place with one hand while the other works my fly open. “So everyone sees who I belong to. That I’m yours. So they don’t… So no one tries to hurt me.”
I grin. She gets it. Finally, she’s starting to understand.
I don’t need to answer with words. Instead, I answer by giving her the one thing she wants above all else right now.
I finally, fucking finally, impale her on my cock and drag her all the way down.
I’m not gentle about it, either. My fingers dig into her hips, and her ass, so hard I’m pretty damn sure she’ll be wearing those bruises by tomorrow.
Now He Regrets
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Chapter 65
If so… good. I want her to see them in the mirror and remember the way I held her and made her forget
her own name.
Every thrust is as hard and as deep as I can make it. I’m grunting, panting, growling as I bite and suck on her skin wherever my mouth can reach.
I can feel it in the way she tenses–she’s close, again. I am, too, but I’m not ready to end this lesson she’s learning. So I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her down onto me, grinding into her deep. Working my cock inside her, every single solid inch.
Daphne flies apart, more intense than before. She can’t move–she can only wriggle and writhe in my arms while her pussy spasms on my dick. She’s gushing, and screaming, and it’s like the best music to my
ears.
“That’s it, baby. Let it out. Be my good girl and let it out. Let the whole city hear you scream for me.”
She’s fucking herself on my cock, but like a good girl, she stays clinging to the strap overhead.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You!” she sobs with pleasure. “Who protects you?”
“You!”
I caress her body from head to toe, making sure she looks me in the eyes. “Who takes care of you?”
Daphne hesitates.
There it is–the telltale giveaway. The hidden scar, the festering wound on her heart.
No one has ever taken care of her before.
“I do,” I supply. I slide my hand up to caress her neck, cup her face in my hand, hold her. “I do, Daphne. And I am always going to take care of you.”
“But…” Her eyes search my face, confusion clouding the pleasure. “Why?” It’s a great question. I don’t answer. I can’t.
Instead, I kiss her and drink down her screams as I push both of us closer and closer to that edge of sweet
oblivion.
And when we both topple over it, our sounds fill the car. Her screams. My roar.
Together.
