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Fecking hell. I had to get out of this room if I was going to save her from a ravaging she would hate me for come morning.
“Eat your dinner,” I snapped, shoving my hands into my pockets and averting my gaze.
I didn’t wait for her to respond. I couldn’t. Instead, I stalked into the bedroom, heading straight for the steam-filled bathroom. Kicking the door shut behind me, I stripped out of clothes that suddenly felt too tight. Too rough against oversensitive skin.
But nudity provided me with no relief. As soon as I entered the bathroom, I was assaulted by the scent of her shampoo. She was everywhere.
Groaning, I cranked the cold water all the way up and stood beneath the icy spray, praying for some sort of pardon from my suffering. Even that provided little comfort. It was no use. The only thing that would satisfy me now was her.
Her hands on my body.
Her mouth pliant beneath mine.
Her warm, willing cunt.
“Fuck,” I moaned, half in despair, half in pleasure.
I’d barely registered that I’d already taken myself in hand, my thick length pulsing. I should stop myself, not allow self-abuse with her right there in the other room. But I wasn’t going to.
If the only way I could have her was in my fantasies, then I’d damn well make it worth my effort. I gave a cursory stroke, starting at the thick base and running my palm to the tip. A hissed breath escaped me, my balls already tight and full.
“Sunday, God in heaven, what you do to me,” I rasped, thankful she couldn’t hear me. Or could she? That thought sent a thrill straight to my dick and took me back to my nights of watching her inIniquity’sprivate room.
As if summoned from the depths of my most depraved imaginings, the visual of her, bound and presenting for me, raced through my mind. Her back arched, slick pink cunt on display, dripping for the only man in her vicinity.
Me.
I inhaled deeply, her musk mouthwatering and calling to me. I gave myself over, let the dream descend and draw me in. If I couldn’t have her heart here and now, I’d have it in fiction of my own making.
“Miss Fallon, you seem to have forgotten your knickers.”
She squirmed, cheeks flushing beautifully as her eyes met mine over her shoulder. “You told me not to wear any when I was with you.”
A harsh pulse of pleasure had my cock jerking. “Aye, I did say that. Tell me, when did you start being my good girl?”
“I always try, Daddy.”
Fuck. I had to stop stroking myself and pull my thoughts from the scene. I was already balancing on a knife’s edge, nearly bursting. Taking a few deep breaths, I willed my orgasm away. I wasn’t ready. I needed this to last.
When I’d gotten myself under control, I gave up on the cold water and turned the temperature as high as I could stand it. Then I closed my eyes and took my leave of reality once more.
“Such an obedient pet,” I murmured, striding across the room to where she was waiting for me on the bed. “Slick and open and ready for me.”
“Yes,” she whispered, wiggling her hips.
“Did you touch yourself before I got here? If I taste your fingers, will they be coated in you?”
A guilty look flashed across her face.
“That’s a yes, is it? You know the rules. You were instructed to keep your hands to yourself, my darling one. Let Daddy be the one to make you feel good.”
She bit that lower lip and blinked at me a few times, then popped her arse back even farther, as though she was begging me for it.
“Punish me, Daddy. I’ve been such a bad girl.”
“Do you remember your safe word?”
“Rosary.”
