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The man ought to be locked up for what he’s doing to me.
But this family, they have their own rules, their own code they live by…
Their own means of justice.
And this punishment…
It’s the penance for my crime.
“Yes,” I say. “I want it. Please.”
His voice comes out low, raspy with his own need. “Such a good, good, bad girl. You make my cock so hard when you beg with your pretty words.”
With that, he slams his cock inside me. I grip the cushions, my eyes shutting tight, a choke caught in the back of my throat. He pulls out, slamming in again before I can even recover from the first thrust.
“Unh!” I cling to the seat so tightly I’m afraid I’ll tear the leather.
He grabs my low ponytail, wrapping the hair around his fist. He yanks on it, causing sparks of pain to dance along my scalp. He pulls back, thrusting his full length inside me once more.
I cry out as my muscles cling to him, more wetness rising, then leaking from me. Now, he’s holding my hips, fucking me hard and fast, building up to a steady rhythm. The friction, the tightness, it builds inside me, threatening to make me implode. “Oh God!” I cry as my pussy clamps down on his cock, my muscles growing tighter and tighter. I push my ass back against his pelvis, greedy for every inch of him.
I’m shamed by the guttural, animal noises that rise from me as I give myself to the orgasm that racks my body. My limbs tremble, my body shakes. My heart pounds so hard, I can’t hear, can’t think, can’t see. All I am, all I ever was, is this moment, this heightened sense of euphoria that envelops my world.
Before I can even breathe, much less recover, he speaks.
“Now, beautiful—” He gives a deep moan, finding his own climax. “I have a proposition for you, but first, you’re going to tell me your name.”
ten
Damian
Imove to another room on the plane, allowing the staff to clean mine. Arie is helping Lindy to the shower. They’ll spoil her with high-end soaps and shampoos, help her dry off with thick, soft towels. When she’s done, they’ll offer her full rein of our closet. We always keep clothing on hand on the jet.
It will tide her over for now. She stepped on my jet with nothing but the clothing she wore. Sasha’s asked for her sizes and will be ordering clothing over the phone tomorrow from her favorite shops in Athens. It will all be delivered to my mansion for her.
I swirl my tumbler, letting the ice clink against the glass as I relax. The oxytocin of a good fuck loosens my limbs. I’m usually more at ease after sex, but something about her leaves me on edge.
Unsatiated.
Like I didn’t get enough. Like I need more.
It bothers me, the amount of control she has over me. I don’t even know her, not really. And now, I’m taking her home.
I picture my father sitting alone in his home. He lives in a smaller place on the island, his place part of a ring of stone houses meant for the bachelors. When my mother died, he moved back to the Parrish, back to the place he lived in when he was single.
Before her.
Like moving out of their shared home and taking up residence where he lived before he met her could just erase my mother. A bitterness creeps up the back of my throat. I knock it down with the whiskey.
Lindy returns. Her damp hair falls around her shoulders in soft waves. She wears cream-colored loungewear, wide, soft looking pants and a long-sleeve top, the hem stopping just above her navel. A stripe of her creamy skin tempts me.
I look away as she takes the seat beside me.
Arie floats through the door, carrying a tray. A whiskey for me, a fruit-infused water for Lindy, whose body is stiff with tension as she tries to not let her arm brush against mine.
“I don’t bite,” I whisper, taking the drink from Arie. “Only spank.”
“Shh! She’ll hear you.” Lindy eases back in her seat, her cheeks flushing as she watches Arie leave us.
