Chapter 12 #3
She ran her hands across his shoulders and back, doing her best not to rake him with her nails. He was all muscle. He proved as much when he grabbed her hips and pushed her further up the bed.
He dragged his mouth up the trembling length of her, lingering at her breasts with slow, worshipful licks and hungry pulls that drew broken whimpers from her throat. She arched, silently begging him higher, desperate for the thick heat of his cock to brush her lips so she could finally taste him.
Instead, he stretched toward the nightstand. The promise of crinkling foil cut the air, causing her pussy to clench. In one smooth motion, he rolled the condom down his rigid length, the sight of him sheathed and ready making her clench with raw, aching need.
Her hands slid up to grip his broad shoulders, fingers clenching his tight muscle as the solid weight of him braced above her, both claiming but shielding her in a fierce possessiveness she’d never once known.
He stilled, eyes locked on hers, and she let her thighs fall open in shameless invitation.
“Trace,” she whispered, voice raw with truth that stripped her bare, “Daddy, I need you inside me. Now.”
Nothing she’d ever said had been more honest.
“I’ll go slow, babygirl. Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
Not a chance in hell.
He eased into her inch by slow inch, the relentless heat of him stretching her past comfort into a bright, exquisite ache. Her breath caught. It was as if his every muscle locked. He froze, buried only halfway. He waited for her body to soften and yield. Then he pressed deeper.
“God, you’re huge,” she gasped, willing her channel to relax. She wanted all of him, even as the delicious burn threatened to unravel her completely.
Her hands glided over the corded steel of his arms, down and up again, worshiping the raw power coiled beneath his skin. Then her palms drifted lower, tracing the sculpted ridges of his back, fingertips lingering on every raised scar, memorizing them to ask about later.
All the while, he sank into her with deliberate, merciless patience, stretching her open. He claimed every trembling inch of her until he was buried to the hilt. Her whole body shuddered around the thick, perfect invasion of him.
A wildfire of sharp-edged pleasure and aching fullness roared through her, as the hunger inside her only grew fiercer. He drew back slowly, almost all the way out, letting her feel the loss of him. Then glided back in with one smooth, claiming thrust that seated him deep again.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he ground out, voice ragged. She could feel every muscle in his arms locked taut as he fought for control.
Silly Daddy. She loved his protectiveness, but not when it cost them their pleasure.
“You won’t,” she assured him as she slid her thighs higher along his hips.
She tilted her pelvis to allow him more access, he took advantage and drove even deeper.
He buried himself in her until his thick cock pressed against her womb. But then he didn’t move.
“Please… don’t stop, Daddy. I need you,” she urged, voice trembling with need.
His whole frame quaked with barely caged hunger. “All right,” he growled, “if you’re sure.”
She’d never been more sure of anything in her life.
He gave her two more slow strokes, enough to make her sob with need. Then his large hand clamped over one cheek of her bottom and hauled her hips off the mattress, angling her exactly as he wanted.
His other fist twisted tight into her hair. He tugged her head back so her throat was bared to him.
His mouth crashed over hers in pure, ruthless possession.
There was no question, no teasing. No mercy.
This kiss branded her, devoured her. It took everything she had and demanded more.
Deep and relentless, this kiss was a vow that she was his and he intended to prove it with every stroke of his tongue.
Then he finally, finally, released his control.
He drove into her with savage, punishing strokes, hips slamming forward. Every muscle in his back and thighs coiled and flexed as he buried himself to the hilt again and again.
This was what she’d been hoping to give him. Her Daddy needed to know she was no hot-house flower who’d fail when he needed her.
He would never hurt her. Never. But after a day like today, it wasn’t only she who needed the release.
Daddies didn’t need to hold things inside either.
Not when their Littles could help them in such intimate ways.
Sometimes a Daddy needed to claim their Little again, to prove to himself she was still his and that no one could take them away.
That was what this was. A claiming. And she loved it.
No tenderness, no restraint, there was only raw, relentless ownership. His cock claimed every slick inch of her. Hard, fast, and merciless, he fucked her like possession was their only language.
She’d never been this close to another soul.
They were skin to skin, breath to breath, every thrust binding them tighter.
The pleasure coiled, climbing until her nails raked bloody crescents down his back.
When the coil snapped, the climax tore through her like white fire.
It shattered her into a thousand pieces.
Nothing existed but the pulse of him inside her and the ragged sound of her screaming his name.
His teeth clamped down on the curve of her shoulder, a sharp, primal bite that marked her as his. His entire body went rigid above her as he came with a guttural groan.
Her arms fell limp to the sheets. Every bone in her body turned liquid. Still buried deep inside her, his massive frame hovered, a living shield of muscle and heat.
For the first time in six years, the noise in her head went perfectly, utterly quiet.
She lifted her hand, fingertips trembling as she swept damp strands from his fierce, beautiful face. A slow, sated smile curved her lips.
Those dark eyes blazed through the shadows, pinning her even before his body did. Inside her, he thickened again, slow and deliberate, stretching her tender flesh until she gasped. How was it possible that he was already getting hard again?
Not that she minded, of course. She had six long years to make up for. She opened her lips to tell him so, but he placed his hand over her mouth.
“No take-backs, little fox. You’re mine until the end of time,” he rasped as his hips rolled in a lazy, possessive grind. “I hope you’re not too eager to put up that Christmas tree, because I’m nowhere near finished with you.”
As if she was ever letting him go.