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His dark laugh is the only warning I get before he starts moving again. Where before, he was easing me in, because he’s so damn careful with me, now he’s using me to get himself off. Using my mouth.

He’s too big, too long, just too fucking much. He’s barely halfway in when he’s triggering my gag reflex. “Use your hand, Lily.” He barely slows down to allow me to obey, gagging me just the tiniest bit with every stroke, his expression downright ferocious as if daring me to protest. I fist my hand around his cock.

I almost panic. I can’t breathe with him filling me, can’t control anything, can’t stop him from going too far…

And just like that, a switch flips in my brain and I stop fighting him. I relax entirely into what he’s doing, letting him in deeper, letting him control everything. It allows him another precious inch or two, but he looks like I just gave him a priceless gift. “That’s right, baby girl. Trust me. Take me deep.”

I move my fist as a counterpoint to the way he fucks my mouth, driven on by his low curses and moans. He looks pained as he stares down at me. “Jesus Christ, Lily. Sweet fuck, suck me harder. I’m close.”

I obey. I’m helpless to do anything but exactly what he wants me to. When he comes, I swallow him down, sucking his cock even as his grip loosens and it’s more like he’s hanging on for support than trying to hold me in place. He finally drags me off his cock with a curse and watches me with an almost strained expression as I lick my lips.

“You might not be the only one who dies from fucking.” Shane pulls me to my feet and kisses me hard. We taste like each other, like the dirtiest kind of fucking, like the promise of more. He finally releases me and tucks his cock back in his pants, but the way his gaze skates over me says he’s considering another plan of attack. “Seeing you in that tiny skirt and knowing I can slip my hand under it whenever I want is addicting, Lily.” He does exactly as he says, palming me under my skirt. “I can’t get enough,” he murmurs, almost as if he’s talking to himself. He wedges two fingers into me and then goes still as if savoring the way I feel. “You make me feel like I’m eighteen and just want to fuck and fuck and fuck.”

I release a shuddering breath. “I feel like that with you, too.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I’m really not hungry.”

For some reason, that makes him shake his head. He withdraws his fingers slowly, reluctantly, and then smooths down my skirt as if making sure everything is in its place. Then he holds my gaze as he sucks his fingers into his mouth and cleans me off him.

“Fuck,” I breathe. “Why is that so hot?”

“Because it’s us.” He walks to the sink to wash his hands and then moves to the fridge. “Why don’t you go watch some TV? This will be a little bit.”

It’s not exactly a command, but it sounds firmer than a suggestion. “Yes, Daddy,” I say primly and then walk out while he’s still cursing.

Chapter 12

I don’t mean to fall asleep on the couch. One second I’m watching my favorite slasher film on demand, and the next I’m vaguely aware of Shane picking me up and carrying me upstairs. I barely manage to open my eyes as he pulls my clothes off, and guides me onto my stomach to ease the plug out. “Sorry,” I manage.

“You need the rest.” He disappears for a few moments, and then returns to tuck us into his bed.

I’m barely awake enough to register disappointment that apparently we’re just sleeping now, him wrapping his big body around me, before darkness sucks me under once more. I don’t dream, which is a relief in and of itself.

I open my eyes to the morning light streaming through the windows and Shane’s comforting weight next to me. It takes several long moments for the sounds I’m hearing to penetrate, and another few before my mind is functioning well enough to focus on him sitting against the headboard. On how he has my phone in his hand. On the way his other hand is beneath the sheets bunched at his waist, moving rhythmically.

“Shane.”

“Mmm.” He looks at me, but doesn’t make a move to stop what he’s doing.

I sit up. “Are you jacking off right next to me? With my phone?”

“Come here.” He stops stroking himself and pulls me to sit on his lap, my back to his chest. “We didn’t get around to watching this yesterday.”

I don’t ask how he has the code to my phone. I’ve never been particularly stealthy when unlocking it, and this man misses nothing. Instead, I settle back against him as he presses play again and I’m confronted with the video of his fingers in my pussy. I’ve seen it a number of times at this point in real life, but somehow in the video it looks even filthier. His fingers are soaked, my wetness coating them. Then the angle changes and he’s shoving those same fingers into my mouth.

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