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He thrusts forward and stretches me with a burning heat. It’s tight. So fucking tight with the plug in my ass. His cock feels massive, more than I can take.
And yet, as he rolls those hips in that killer way he’s perfected, I take him. Deeper and deeper he goes until he’s all the way inside me. He slides back slowly, then enters again fully with one hard push.
And I’m gone.
A whine rises in the back of my throat. More, more, more. My arms tighten around his neck. He moves faster. In and out, in and out, and I’m bucking, riding him up in the air, my legs holding on to his torso.
I’m going to come. “Yes, yes. Keep going.”
“I want to take you from behind.” He stops his delicious rhythm, carrying me over to the bed, untangling my arms from his neck.
“No! Keep going. I want to come, now.” His cock is still inside me and I wriggle against him, trying to get back that friction that I so desperately need.
“Naughty girl. Do what daddy says.” He rips me from his body. Pushes me over the edge of the bed. Slaps my ass. “Daddy wants you from the back, baby. Now be a good girl and spread those pretty legs.” His dominance makes my heart slam against my rib cage, heat flooding through me at the feel of the sting on my skin.
My ass stings and he smacks it again in the exact same spot. A warning. I quickly obey, spreading my legs, remembering the plug. How will it feel to have him enter me from the back with the plug still inside?
He enters me with unforgiving force. Pushing himself inside my slick heat. It’s tight and full like before but now, from this angle, the head of his cock is hitting a different spot. One that makes an animal-like growl rise from my chest. “Holy mother of—”
He leans to the side to slap my ass. He pulls back his cock until only the head remains inside me, and spanks me. “Watch that mouth, babygirl.” His hands go to my hips and he fills me again.
And again. And again.
Perspiration dots my brow. My mind feels hazy, cloudy. My pussy locks down on his cock, my ass clenching around that damned plug and— “I’m coming. Oh—”
“Come for daddy, babygirl.” He holds my hips, pulling me back hard into him, his cock slamming inside of me, hitting that spot and annihilating me.
I come with the force of a wildfire, every emotion rising to the heavens like ash from the burning wood.
He comes with me, his seed a flash of heat, filling me and spilling over, escaping me and running down my leg.
He moves out of me, leaving me shuddering. His fingers trail to the cleft in my ass, finding the handle of the plug. He pulls it out, slowly. The sensation is strange, like something leaving me. It’s out and my body finally relaxes completely, collapsing onto the bed.
I lie there, basking in the afterglow. Thinking of him. Wondering how it is I got to be this lucky, to be with him.
Wondering… if it can last.
Perfection isn’t real. Tom wasn’t real. Can he be real?
Or is this just a mirage? Our initial meeting, our first date, our two-week contract… when it's all over will I be left wondering what possessed me to think for a moment that any of it was real. That it could last?
And yet, in this moment, I can’t imagine my life without him.
He comes to me, lying beside me. He kisses my cheek, my lips, the top of my head.
My eyes close and I begin to drift off. I don’t know if he thinks I’m awake or asleep, but he speaks and his voice is a whisper, so low I almost can’t hear it.
“Always my babygirl. Always. No matter what.”
A breeze blows in through the open window. A shiver runs down my spine.Chapter FifteenGabrielI wake up the next day and reach for Miranda. I pat the bed beside me. Empty. I sit up, scrubbing a hand across my brow and look for her.
“Miranda?”
Nothing. Now I’m fully awake.
After last night, finding out about her sister’s situation, the memory of my own troubles with past relationships came to haunt me. I brought her back to the room to claim her, to remind her who she belonged to. The thought of infidelity—fucking infidelity—made my need to own her stronger than ever. I wanted her to know exactly whose babygirl she was.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and call for her again. “Miranda?”
Did she leave me? She’s begun to get suspicious about a few things. I fucked up and let it slip I knew more about her than I should. Will she think I’m some kind of sicko creeper? I’m not, I know I’m not, but I can’t deny the fact that I’m more than a little obsessed.
