Chapter 9 Fawn #4
I am scooped up over his shoulder before I finish my sentence. “Why was she here? Why wasn’t I here? When did you leave last night? Did you meet her?” The questions pour out like emotional vomit.
He carries me down a hallway and into a bedroom, where I analyse every little thing from upside-down and through a waterfall of blonde hair. Bed made. Curtains open. No half-empty glasses. I cling to those good signs like a kitten hanging from a wall. “Tell me the truth!”
He tosses me onto the bed.
I try to scamper along it, to get to my feet, to higher ground, but he is manhandling me, flipping me onto my stomach. I feel the cool air hit my skin as he tugs my jeans and underwear down in one swift movement, the denim catching my thighs like a thick rope.
He straddles the backs of my legs. “Easy, sweet girl.”
I grip the sheets by my face and vibrate with need, craving his discipline—his attention.
When a warm hand comes down on my bare arse, I pulse everywhere. My heart. My pussy. My lungs.
“That’s it. There you go.”
He lands another.
I cry out in relief.
“Now…” he growls. “Lorna was here this morning to go over the plan for when the Family arrives, little deer,” he says, dark and smooth. “She needs to keep The District News occupied. Her heels are ridiculous. She removed them while we planned. That is all.”
His palm meets the same spot again—the sound of his slap is only rivalled by the long moan of pleasure that curls heatedly through my lips.
“You belong in my home,” he rasps. “Safe. Surrounded by your things, by our life.”
Oh, God. I needed this. What does that say about me? He’s answering my questions and spanking me to loosen the tight claws of this hormonal and eccentric creature inside me.
Another firm spank greets my raw backside, perfectly measured, placed, and soothed afterward by three circles of his warm palm. “I left this morning, not last night, and no, I did not leave to meet her.”
He is undoing his belt and lowering his trousers to his knees now, the movements commanding and rough. Warm long fingers slide between my pussy lips before pulling out my tampon. I can’t see what he’s doing but can now feel the warm press of his cock at my entrance.
And he thrusts.
Fills me entirely.
I gasp at the stretch.
At the pace.
“Yes,” he groans. “That’s it.”
Without waiting for me to adjust to the pressure inside me, he grips my hip with one hand and drags me back into his thrusts, beating yelps and moans from me, reminding me who I am. Who I belong to.
What I need.
“You think I want anything else?” he pants. “That this pussy doesn’t drive me out of my mind? That it’ll ever be enough for me? That I’ll ever have my fill?”
His hand slams down beside my head, a strange ringing coming from it. “I think you forget, sweet girl. Who is really obsessed with whom?”
Moaning and writhing beneath him, I stare at his mobile phone flat between his palm and the mattress. It rings, clearly on speaker, as he fucks me.
Then a soft voice answers. “Clay…”
It’s her…
He called her.
Clay speeds up, fucking me loudly into the mattress, fingers digging into my hip. The sound that rips from his throat vibrates through my bones—something between a growl and a curse that makes the hair on my arms rise.
“Fuck, I’m in love with you, little deer!” he bites out through deep steady drives in and out of me. “Completely. Wholly. Fuck. You feel like heaven. There is no room for another, not when you consume me so entirely.”
The phone is quiet but alive, listening.
I can’t stifle my sounds, my throat catching, releasing, catching again with each brutal thrust. My whimpers and yelps, high, then low, then breaking completely as he changes angle and rubs that spot that makes my vision scatter with stars and moons and clouds.
The bed is solid, the mattress thick and expensive, but Clay is huge and powerful, shaking it as he pumps into me, the headboard thudding against the wall with a steady beat.
I fist the sheets, taking his claiming drives, freeing my insecurities from the day.
I know Lorna would be easier for him, and Aurora, too.
They are graceful and perfectly controlled.
I know I’m insecure, immature, and jealous, but I can’t help it.
I can’t help that losing him for even a moment, of his thoughts wandering, of his world not revolving around me, would be worse than suffocating.
“I love you,” I gasp.
He paws at my hips. “I love you more, dammit!”
My heart aches with something new—not the jealousy from moments before, but a desperate longing that burns just as fiercely.
Clay’s cock slides in and out of me, rubbing and massaging my insides each time. As always, his size fills me completely, overwhelming my senses from the first stretch to the last inch, and I feel every sensation.
Of pain.
Thrust.
Of pleasure.
Thrust.
Of fear.
Thrust.
Of love.
Thrust.
They build through me until I may explode. I come with a guttural cry, convulsing and clenching around him like a needy fist. He tenses and shudders, his cock thickening as he continues his ruthless fucking until he squeezes my hip and empties inside me, groaning long and hard.
He holds himself deep, pants and shudders, as the final pulses of his orgasm subside.
A warm palm soothes my raw backside. “There.” His voice is gravelly, dark—delicious. He thumbs the hang-up button and tosses the sweaty phone to the side. “We belong together, little deer. You show me femininity is soft and sweet. It is vulnerable and needy. I will protect that. I need that.”
I hiccup a sob. “I’m sorry.”
“You know how I feel about that word. I don’t want you to be sorry. Not for this. Never be sorry for showing me how you feel. I would be very disappointed if you hid your emotions from me. I assure you, sweet girl, I can handle you.”
His large palm traces the length of my spine.
“I want you to be happy and full of life. Spoilt. Demanding. You have suffered alone enough, little deer. No amount of time will make me forget that. No amount of diamonds or pretty gifts will make me forget that you once merely survived. I want you to feel everything and know that you can come to me. With all your eccentric emotions. And I will make it all better.”
“I’m so happy when I’m with you,” I say as he rolls his hips again, turning my words into a moan of delight. “So happy that when you’re not with me I feel something missing.”
“Sweet girl.” He slowly drags his thick, wet cock out and turns me to face him, his touch now gentle.
He cradles me beneath his weight tenderly, like I'm made of something precious. It feels so good to be seen, to be held accountable, to be cared for so completely. He is my everything—the only man I’ve ever had in my life, the first and the last.
His lips meet mine, his powerful tongue demanding entry. Yes, I close my eyes and cup the back of his head, deepening his kiss, accepting it. I love his kisses—his lips, firm yet soft, his tongue as controlling as he is.
I break away, gasping for air. “The babies—”
“Are already in the penthouse, little deer.”
I shuffle to the side. “What?”
“And Jasmine has a room on a lower level. All is taken care of, so you can let go of the reins. They are not yours.” Those searing blue eyes hold me captive.
“You didn’t think I’d let you merely drop in for ‘twenty-minutes’, did you?
Not after seeing that pretty lingerie?” He tsks. “You should know me better than that.”
“Twenty?” Ugh. “Do you have a microphone in the car or something, or is HJ just the biggest rat that ever ratted?”
“He’s a rat.” Clay grins, and oh my God. I just died—that smile just stopped my fucking heart mid-beat.
“Is Lorna going to be part of your life, Sir?” I allow myself to ask, because my stomach hurts when I imagine her eyes on him. “I get jealous.”
A light grin plays on his lips. “Territorial?”
I giggle. “Just plain jealous.”
“Not often, sweet girl.”
Ugh, I don’t like her.
Licking my lips, I know exactly what I need. “Can I please suck your cock, Sir? And fall asleep?”
His eyes drink me in. “Such lovely manners. Let’s have a shower, then you can suck me until you remember your place with me, se?”
I blush and nod.