Page 52 of Primal Urges


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Just thinking of it sends a shiver down my spine and zap to my clit. I’m sore, not broken. I could absolutely go for a rough fuck right now. I have no idea if Wolfe had sex with me while I was passed out. I took two pills just to be sure I’d stay asleep. Once he suggested it, I couldn’t get rid of the idea. I’ve never messed around with somnophilia before, maybe because I’m such a light sleeper naturally. I can see the draw to it. There’s something about being completely helpless and vulnerable while you sleep. Consentually giving up your body, your autonomy, for someone else’s pleasure is intensely satisfying. You well and truly become someone’s fucktoy, and that idea is unbelievably sexy to me.

Part of me wants to ask what he did to me, part of me wants that memory to be his and his alone. Another part of me wishes he’d do it again and record it so we can watch it together.

My pussy flutters at the thought. I groan, tilting my head back on the edge of the tub. My hair is wrapped tightly in a silk scarf, preventing my braids from getting wet, but my neck is killing me. I’d do anything to be able to fully submerge myself in the steaming hot water right now. I wonder if Wolfe would give me a massage?

I scoff. “Wonder if he’ll ever show me his face,” I mutter. As hot as the mask is, I don’t want to stare at it all the time. I want his face. My phone vibrating pulls my attention back to the present. I find a few missed messages and sit up to respond.

Wolfey: You’re stunning, Sweetling. My little whore wears her marks proudly, doesn’t she? She makes her master so proud.

God, the way he talks about me in third person is sexy as fuck. Shit, why is that so hot?

Me: I want more, Wolfey. Play with me again, please.

Wolfey:Wolfey?Lol. You’re adorable. Is that your request?

Me: One of them. Say yes. Play with me tonight. I’ll take the pills again if that’s what you want.

I lean forward, anticipation thrumming through me. I feel like an addict, needing another hit. I’m pushing, pressing for more, but it’s only because I have a plan. I grin to myself, feeling lighter than I have in forever as we share flirty messages, openly discussing kink like it’s no big deal.

I swallow thickly as a ball of emotion clogs my throat. Is that why I feel so happy? He’s accepted me? Simply and unabashedly, without question? Not only that, he admitted that he’d do it all for me, no matter what. And he did. He delivered, andhe meant it. He was into it, every second of it. Then again when he played with me in my bed while I was passed out.

He didn’t question it or make fun of me. He didn’t say I’m disgusting or mental. He just said yes. He toyed with my body, even though I’m on my period. The blood didn’t even freak him out, and I honestly thought that would be his hard limit. He went a step further and played with it…touched it…Did he lick it? Eat me out? Suck his bloody fingers?

Jesus Christ.My pussy throbs as wetness seeps out between my thighs and into the bathwater.

Wolfey: I can’t, Little Fox. I have to get some work done. Why don’t I make you a deal? You keep taking your pills for the next week if it’s safe, and I’ll play with you when you’re least expecting it.

Dammit.Disappointment flickers through me, but I bat the silly emotion away. I’m a grown-ass, independent woman. I have a career I need to focus on. A father to spend time with. A case to wrap up. I can’t spend all of my time fawning over him, even if that’s exactly what I want to do. Sighing, I agree to his terms.

Me: Fine.

I snap a photo of me in the bathtub pouting. My skin is on display, but my boobs are covered by my floral-scented bubbles, giving him just a tease.

Me: *Image*

Wolfey: More.

Me: No. Send me one of you first. I want to see you. All of you.

Silence greets my request, and I barely contain the urge to toss my phone across the bathroom. So freaking annoying. I swipe to respond to my other messages, finding one from Shiloh checking on me and another from Urma confirming that my dad is up for visitors today.

I drop my phone on the stand and set about scrubbing my body with my chocolate sugar body scrub. It’s from Italy, and it smells like fucking Heaven. I use the matching shaving cream and shave my legs and clean up my bikini line. I’ll need to set another wax appointment now that I might be having regular dick visits. I chuckle at the thought. I rush through the rest of my bath, ignoring the achingly loud silence coming from my phone. Guess that’s a no, then.

Prick.

“Hi, Daddy,” I murmur softly, sitting down next to him on the sofa. He still lives in my childhood home, but it looks completely different with all the modifications we’ve had to make in the last year. His eyes widen as he takes me in before a wide smile breaks out over his handsome face.

“My girl! My Ray-Jay,” he beams. My eyes burn with hot tears that I couldn’t stop if I tried. I surge forward, throwing myself in his arms. He holds me just as tightly, squeezing the breath from my lungs. “I’ve missed you.”

I sob into his neck, hugging him for dear life. Hoping that if I cling tight enough, he’ll stay with me. It’s been months since he remembered me on one of my visits. That’s the reason I haven’t shown up as much lately. It’s so much harder to see him and have him ask who I am again and again. Even worse was when he started referring to me by my mom's name. I know I should suck it up, but shit, a person can only take so much.

You’re selfish, Rayvn.

I am. I really fucking am. But as my dad and I hold each other, I push those thoughts away for a later time, knowing I need to enjoy every second of this.

He chuckles, releasing me with a sniffle. “How have you been? Working real hard, I assume?”

I smile, wiping my cheeks as I take my seat again. My eyes dart around the living room, homing in on the family photos. Pictures of my entire life span the white wall like a beautiful timeline. They begin with my birth and cover every major event after. My mom started the tradition, and when she passed, my dad continued with it. I’ve thought about taking them down a few times, worried they might cause him confusion. Urma says that when he loses himself, he stares at them, and they seem to keep him calm, so, for now, they’ve stayed.

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