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“You want Daddy to come, little girl?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I wailed as another orgasm tore through me. My pleasure had turned to pain and had then transformed into something that was utter desperation.
“Daddy’s taking his time,” he answered, and I started to wail as I thrashed as I came for him. I struggled to find the balance on the edge, trying to cope with the hurt and the bliss that came from the endless pleasure he was forcing from my body.
“Please, Daddy,” I whimpered, and I didn’t stop. I begged for him to come. I pleaded for his seed and just when I thought I couldn’t bear any more he groaned with his dark desire.
“Daddy’s enjoying himself,” he answered.
Oh… Please…
“Daddy’s going to come, little girl,” he finally whispered, and my body started to shake once more.
“Yes, Daddy,” I wailed.
“You’re going to come one last time for me, long and hard. Daddy wants to hear you scream as he comes,” he demanded, and I shrieked as that last orgasm surged forth at his command.
“Daddy! Oh! Daddy,” I cried out, my voice something between a wail of anguish and a moan of complete satisfaction.
I pressed my palms firmly against the stone wall, digging my nails and not finding any purchase whatsoever. I felt as though I was falling, and my body curled toward his. I leaned against him. Maybe it was just to keep myself upright. Maybe it was because I wanted to be near him.
I didn’t know. I didn’t care.
I simply kept coming. That final release was so long and hard that I was only vaguely aware of the heat from his cum pelting my backside. It spurted against me several times and I wailed as I watched it drip down onto the stone beneath us.
With an unexpected sadness, I studied the way the water washed it away. I watched his milky white seed swirl around on the tile floor until it disappeared down the drain.
For some reason, it seemed to upset me because it wasn’t inside me.
And that terrified me.
Chapter 6
That night, he’d tucked me into his bed. He sat in a leather chair beside me reading a book until I’d fallen asleep and when I woke up the next morning, his hard body was curled possessively around mine.
I loathed that I liked the feeling of that. For a while I simply laid there in his arms, not moving and barely breathing for fear of waking him. In the last twenty-four hours, he’d turned my world upside down and I relished those few minutes to myself to try to wrestle with the confusing feelings surging inside me.
I wanted to hate him for it, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I felt something for him that I truly didn’t recognize because I’d never felt it before in my life and I was terrified that it would turn into something everyone else would call love.
I didn’t want to give him my heart, but I feared it was inevitable. I was petrified that he’d already taken it.
Eventually though, my stomach growled angrily, and he laughed softly behind me.
“You’re awake?” I whispered in surprise.
“Yes. I’ve been enjoying the feeling of my body wrapped around yours,” he murmured, and a warm sensation pulsed through me at his words. The intensity of it caught me off guard and I felt myself blushing as a result.
Why did he have to be so kind when I knew he could be so cruel? The contrast between the two was shockingly vast and I found myself floundering to take it all in. I was so unsettled, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
“I’m going to cook breakfast for you this morning, little girl,” he purred.
I assumed he had people for that. I pulled away enough from him so that I could turn to face him. I wanted to see the look in his eyes when he said those things to me.
“You’re going to cook me breakfast…” I echoed, and my voice was strained a little bit with my fairly obvious skepticism.
He grinned.
“Does that surprise you?” he asked.
