To places where maybe I might be good enough and I didn’t have that bastard’s blood running through my veins.
A curse that claimed and haunted all of my days.
“Just like that, Brinley. This smart mouth…so good. So damned good. Have me in the palm of your hand, don’t you? Exactly where you want me.”
The words that left me were nothing but praise, and I wondered how it was possible that she’d come to own me.
Body and soul and hands and teeth.
The number of bunnies who’d gotten on their knees for me. Climbed on my dick to give me a ride.
There was no comparison to this.
Nothing that could compete with the feel of Brinley’s mouth. Her lips slick and gliding over my cock.
Brinley mewled a desperate sound, curled her hand around my base, trying to get more of me in, mumbling a slew of incoherent confessions that I couldn’t make out but felt, anyway.
Her own praise and pleas and need that she injected directly into me. Like she held the full tap on this insane connection.
Pleasure flickered and glinted behind my eyes, and her movements turned a bit erratic as she coerced me to the highest heights.
“Brinley…is that what you want to be? My good girl on her knees for me?”
My girl.
A property patch on her back.
I tried to shove that abhorrent thought to the back of my mind. Beat it into submission.
But maybe whatever was happening here was just as stark.
The way our gazes tangled and our souls linked.
My hips began to rock in time with her.
In sync.
Taking every bit of what she was offering.
Knowing I didn’t deserve it but wishing I could be that man, anyway. Hoping to give her back a little of what those bastards had stolen.
I took her a fraction deeper with each stroke.
Until she was swallowing and gurgling around me as I thrust into the warm well of her mouth.
Again and again.
Surging as I fucked.
But it was my heart that was fucked.
Way she looked up at me with those eyes in pure vulnerability.
Giving herself.
Her trust.
Her surrender.
