Chapter 12 #2
Her technique had evolved from good to devastating.
She'd figured out exactly how much pressure I liked, exactly how to use her tongue to drive me wild, exactly how fast to move to keep me balanced on the edge without pushing me over.
It was like she'd downloaded a manual to my body and was executing it flawlessly.
"Eva," I warned, feeling my balls tighten in her hand. "I'm close. If you don't want me to come in your mouth—"
She responded by taking me deeper, hollowing her cheeks harder, her hand pumping faster. The message was clear: she wanted it, wanted me to lose control, wanted to taste me.
But that wasn't how this would go. Not the first time.
It took every ounce of willpower I'd ever possessed, but I pulled her off my cock. She made a sound of protest, trying to lean forward again, but I held her firm.
"No," I said, breathing hard, my cock throbbing angrily at the loss of her mouth. "Not like this."
"But I want—" she started, licking her swollen lips.
"I know what you want." I pulled her to her feet, her legs shaky from kneeling. "But I need to fuck you. Need to be inside you when I come. Need to claim you properly."
Her eyes went wide, then dark with want. "Oh yes," she breathed. "Please, Daddy. I need you inside me."
The words nearly broke me. My perfect little girl, begging for my cock, still tasting me on her lips.
I kissed her hard, tasting myself on her tongue, feeling her melt against me.
Her hands came up to touch my chest finally, fingernails dragging across my tattoos, and the slight pain mixed with overwhelming pleasure.
"I'm going to fuck you now," I said against her mouth. "Going to fill that tight little pussy with my cock until you can't remember what it felt like to be empty."
She shuddered against me, and I could feel her wetness against my thigh where she pressed close.
"Please," she whispered again, and that single word held everything—need, trust, submission, desire.
The thick rug was soft beneath my knees as I lowered Eva onto it, her body pliant and trusting in my hands.
I could have taken her to the bedroom, could have done this properly on a bed with sheets and pillows and all the romance she probably deserved.
But I needed her here, now, in the room where she'd taken her spanking, where she'd knelt for me, where everything between us had shifted from possibility to reality.
She lay back, my t-shirt bunched uselessly around her ribs, neither covering nor revealing but framing her like she was art.
Her legs fell open naturally, welcoming me, and the sight of her—spread out on my floor, pussy glistening with need, marks from my hand still visible on her hip where the shirt had ridden up—made my cock throb with painful need.
"Look at you," I said, running my hands up her thighs, feeling the muscles tremble under my touch. "My perfect little girl, all spread out for Daddy."
She arched into my touch, trying to guide my hands where she needed them, but I took my time. I'd rushed enough tonight, lost control enough. This moment—our first time—deserved reverence, even if that reverence was wrapped in desperate need.
I positioned myself between her legs, my cock heavy and aching, but didn't enter her yet.
Instead, I leaned down, covering her body with mine, weight on my forearms so I didn't crush her.
The full-body contact made us both gasp—her soft curves against my hard planes, her breasts pressed against my chest, the heat of her pussy just inches from where I needed to be.
"Dmitry," she breathed, hands coming up to frame my face. Those impossible eyes—one blue, one green—looked at me with such trust, such need, such complete surrender that my chest felt like it might crack open.
"Mine," I said, then kissed her like I was trying to crawl inside her through her mouth.
The kiss was different from any we'd shared before.
Deeper, more possessive, tinged with the promise of what was about to happen.
Her tongue met mine eagerly, and she sucked on it the way she'd sucked my cock, making me groan into her mouth.
Her legs came up to wrap around my waist, trying to pull me into her, but I resisted.
Not yet. Not quite yet.
I pulled back from the kiss, looking down at her flushed face, her swollen lips, the way her chest heaved with each breath. "Say it," I commanded. "Tell me who you belong to."
"You," she said immediately, no hesitation. "I belong to you, Daddy. I'm yours."
"And who do I belong to?" I asked, needing her to understand this went both ways.
Her eyes widened slightly, like she hadn't expected the question. "Me?" It came out uncertain, questioning.
"You," I confirmed, kissing her again, softer this time. "I'm yours just as much as you're mine. Remember that, little one. This isn't just about me claiming you."
I shifted my hips, and the head of my cock brushed against her pussy for the first time. We both froze at the contact—hot, wet, electric. She was soaked, her arousal coating my cock immediately, and the urge to slam into her was almost overwhelming.
But I made myself go slow, made myself savor this. I rubbed the head through her folds, gathering her wetness, watching her face contort with pleasure as I brushed against her clit.
"Please," she whimpered, hips trying to angle to take me inside. "Daddy, please, I need you."
"You have me," I said, positioning myself at her entrance. "You've always had me."
Then I pushed in, just the head at first, and holy fuck.
She was tight. Impossibly, perfectly tight, her pussy gripping me like it had been made specifically for my cock. The heat of her, the wetness, the way her walls fluttered around me—I had to stop, had to breathe, had to keep from coming right then like some inexperienced teenager.
"Oh God," Eva gasped, her eyes going wide, body tensing. "You're so big. I can't—it won't—"
"It will," I assured her, holding perfectly still despite every instinct screaming at me to move. "You'll take every inch, little one. Your pussy was made for my cock. But we'll go slow."
I pushed in another inch, watching her face carefully for signs of pain. But what I saw wasn't pain—it was wonder, pleasure, a kind of desperate need that matched my own. Her pussy clenched around me, trying to draw me deeper, and I had to fight not to give in to what her body was begging for.
Another inch. Another. Each one spreading her wider, filling her fuller. She was panting now, little gasps and moans falling from her lips, her nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
"That's it," I encouraged, voice rough with the effort of going slow. "Taking Daddy's cock so well. Such a good girl."
Halfway now, and she was trembling beneath me, right on the edge of something. I shifted the angle slightly, and her whole body jerked.
"There!" she cried out. "Oh fuck, right there!"
I'd found her g-spot, and every inch I pushed in now dragged against it. Her pussy clenched rhythmically around me, and I could feel her getting wetter, making the slide easier. Three more inches. Two. One.
And then I was fully seated inside her, balls pressed against her ass, completely surrounded by her tight heat.
We both stopped breathing for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensation.
I'd never felt anything like this—not just the physical perfection of how we fit together, but the emotional weight of it.
This was Eva, my Little, taking all of me and making it look easy.
"You did it," I said, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. "You took all of me. Every inch. How does it feel?"
"Full," she gasped. "So full. Like you're everywhere."
I pulled back slowly, just a few inches, then pushed back in. Her whole body arched, a broken moan tearing from her throat.
"I'm going to move now," I warned. "Going to fuck you properly. You tell me if it's too much."
"It won't be," she said with complete certainty. "Nothing you do could be too much. I want all of it, Dmitry. Everything you have."
So I gave it to her. Slow at first, letting her adjust to the size, to the stretch. But with each thrust, her pussy gripped me perfectly, welcoming me home, and soon slow wasn't enough for either of us.
The rhythm we found was ancient, primal, something coded into our DNA that our bodies recognized even if our minds were blown apart.
Each thrust drove deeper than the last, and Eva met every one, her hips rising to take me, her pussy gripping me like she'd die if I pulled out completely.
The wet sounds of our fucking filled the room—obscene, perfect, ours.
My hands couldn't stay still. They roamed her body like I was trying to memorize her through touch alone—gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, sliding up to pinch her nipples through the bunched-up shirt, tangling in her hair to pull her head back and expose her throat.
Every new hold made her pussy clench around me, made her moan louder, made her need more evident.
"Harder," she gasped, nails raking down my back. "Please, Daddy, fuck me harder."
I grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand. The position made her arch, changed the angle so I hit even deeper, and her eyes rolled back in her head.
"Greedy little girl," I growled, increasing the pace. "Already getting fucked by Daddy's cock and you want more?"
"Always more," she panted, fighting against my grip not to escape but to feel how thoroughly I had her pinned. "Always going to want more of you."
The honesty of it, the raw need in her voice, made something possessive and violent rise in my chest. I released her wrists only to grab her throat—not squeezing, just holding, feeling her pulse race under my palm.
"Open your mouth," I commanded.