Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Kyra
"Yes, Daddy," I repeat, my voice stronger now, more certain. "I'm ready. I want you to claim me completely."
When his slacks and boxers hit the floor, I finally see all of him—thick and hard and intimidating in the flickering light.
My mouth goes dry. He's so much bigger than Aaron, so much more... everything. Nervous anticipation coils in my stomach as he settles beside me on the silk sheets. It’s so different compared to before, when he stayed clothed with me. Now, he’s here, naked.
"You're beautiful," I breathe, my eyes tracing the defined muscles of his chest, the silver threading through his dark hair. "I never expected... I mean, for a man your age..."
"Careful," he warns with a chuckle. "Are you saying I'm old?"
"I'm saying you're perfect." My hand reaches out to press against his chest where I can feel his heart racing. "And all mine."
When my fingers wrap around his length, hot and heavy in my palm.
He groans and his eyes flutter closed, and I feel a surge of feminine power at his reaction.
His hips jerk involuntarily at my touch, and I can see the war playing out across his features—the desire to let me explore warring with his need to maintain control.
"That night in my study," he says roughly, "I wanted to bend you over my desk and show you what a real man could do to you. Make you forget my pathetic son existed."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because you weren't ready then. Still thought you loved him." His hand covers mine, stilling my movements but not removing my touch. "But you were never his, were you? Even when you thought you were."
"No," I admit, my thumb swiping across the head of his cock and spreading the moisture I find there. "I think I've been yours since that first day in your study. I just couldn't admit it to myself."
"Kyra," he warns, his voice rough. "If you keep touching me like that—"
"What?" I stroke him slowly, marveling at the velvet-soft skin over steel hardness. "What will you do, Daddy?"
The word sends a visible shudder through him. His hand covers mine, stilling my movements. "I'll lose what little control I have left."
"Good," I breathe, leaning up to press my lips to his throat. "I don't want your control. I want all of you."
A growl tears from his very core. He pins my hands above my head with one of his, his mouth crashing down on mine in a kiss that's pure possession. His tongue invades my mouth, claiming and demanding, and I surrender to it completely.
"I'm going to mark you," he warns, his voice dark with promise. "Inside and out. When I'm done with you, there won't be a single inch of your body that doesn't know who it belongs to."
"Do it," I challenge, meeting his gaze boldly. "Mark me. Claim me. Make me yours in every way that matters."
Fire flashes in his eyes. Suddenly his mouth is on my throat, his teeth scraping against sensitive skin.
Not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to send shockwaves of sensation through my entire body.
He works his way down, leaving a trail of marks that will be visible tomorrow, evidence of what we've done.
When he reaches my breasts, he takes his time, lavishing attention on each one until my nipples are red and swollen from his mouth. Every touch sends electricity straight to my core, building the pressure that's been coiling inside me since he first kissed me in the bathroom.
"Look at you," he murmurs against my skin. "So responsive. So perfect. Do you know how many times I've imagined this? How many nights I've stroked myself thinking about your taste, your sounds?"
"Tell me," I gasp as his teeth graze my nipple again. "Tell me what you imagined."
"I imagined you spread out beneath me just like this," he says, his hand skimming down my body to rest on my hip.
"Desperate and wanting and completely mine.
I imagined the sounds you'd make when I touched you here.
" His hand slides between my thighs "And the way you'd beg when I touched you here.
" His fingers brush my clit, and I cry out, my hips lifting toward his touch.
"Please," I beg, my hips lifting toward his touch. "I need you inside me."
"Not yet." His voice carries absolute authority, and something about the command sends heat racing through me. "First, I want to taste you again. Want to feel you come apart on my tongue before I claim you completely."
"But I already—in the bathroom—"
"I'm going to make you come so many times tonight that you lose count. I'm going to wring every drop of pleasure from your beautiful body until you can't remember your own name."
The promise makes me shiver with anticipation. Before I can respond, he's moving down my body, pressing open-mouthed kisses to every inch of skin he can reach. My ribs, my stomach, the sensitive spot just below my navel that makes me gasp and arch beneath him.
When he settles between my thighs, I'm already trembling with need. The first stroke of his tongue makes me cry out and arch off the bed, my hands fisting in the silk sheets.
But this time is different from the frantic encounter in the bathroom.
This time, he takes his time, exploring every fold with methodical precision.
His tongue traces patterns that make me writhe, alternating between gentle licks and firm pressure that has me climbing toward the edge embarrassingly fast.
"So sweet," he murmurs against my flesh. "I could spend hours between your legs and never get tired of your taste."
I try to hold back, try to make it last, but his fingers find a rhythm that matches the movement of his tongue, and I'm helpless against the onslaught of sensation.
The orgasm builds and builds until it finally crashes over me with devastating intensity, my body clenching around his fingers as I scream his name.
He works me through every wave of pleasure, his mouth and fingers relentless until I'm boneless and gasping beneath him. When I finally go limp, oversensitive and shaking, he presses gentle kisses to my inner thighs.
"Perfect," he murmurs, his voice rough with his own need. "But we're just getting started."
"I can't," I protest weakly. "I'm too sensitive."
"You can," he says with complete confidence. "And you will. Because I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart. Not even close."
He moves back up my body settling between my thighs. I can feel the thick head of his cock pressing against my pussy, and the reality of what's about to happen hits me all at once.
"Look at me," he commands softly, his hand tilting my chin up. "I want to see your face when I take you for the first time. When I make you completely mine."
I meet his eyes as he begins to push inside, and the intensity I see there takes my breath away. This isn't just sex for him—it's claiming, pure and simple.
The stretch is incredible, just this side of too much. He's so much bigger than Aaron, so much more everything, and my body struggles to accommodate him.
"Breathe," he instructs, his voice strained with the effort of going slow. "Relax for me, sweetheart. Let me in."
I try to follow his instruction, focusing on the rhythm of my breathing as he works himself deeper inch by inch. Every time I tense, he stops, letting me adjust before continuing his slow invasion.
"You're doing so well," he praises, pressing gentle kisses to my face. "Taking me so perfectly. Such a good girl."
The praise helps me relax, and gradually he's able to sink deeper.
I feel split open, stretched to my absolute limit, completely and utterly filled. Every nerve ending is on fire, and I need him to move but I'm also afraid that any movement might shatter me completely.
"How does it feel?" he asks, his voice rough with restraint.
"Full," I gasp. "So full. Like you're touching every part of me."
"I am," he says with dark satisfaction. "Every inch of you belongs to me now. Do you understand that?"
"Yes," I breathe, and I mean it. I can feel the truth of it in the way my body has molded itself around him, in the way every cell seems attuned to his presence.
"Say it," he commands. "Tell me who you belong to."
"You," I whisper. "I belong to you, Victor. Only you."
"That's right." He pulls back slowly, almost all the way out, and I whimper. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."
When he slides back in, the friction is incredible. Every ridge and vein seems to hit a different spot inside me, sending sparks through my entire nervous system. I can't help the moan that escapes my lips.
"There's my girl," he says with approval, establishing a slow, deep rhythm that has me gasping beneath him. "Let me hear you. Don't hold back those beautiful sounds."
Each thrust sends shockwaves through my body, hitting places inside me I didn't even know existed. The angle is perfect, the depth overwhelming, and I can already feel another climax building despite having come twice already.
"You feel incredible," he groans against my neck, his pace gradually increasing. "Better than I ever imagined. So tight and hot and perfect around my cock."
The possessive words send another spike of arousal through me. "Faster," I beg, my nails digging into his back. "Please, I need more, Daddy."
"Greedy little girl," he says with dark amusement, but he complies. His thrusts become more demanding, more forceful, and I meet each one with desperate hunger.
The bed creaks beneath us, the headboard hitting the wall with increasing frequency.
"Look at you," he says, his voice rough with his own approaching need. "Taking my cock so perfectly. Like you were born for this. Born to be mine."
"Yes," I gasp, my back arching as he hits that perfect spot inside me again and again. "God, yes, I was made for this. Made for you."
"That's right." His hand slides between us, finding my clit and circling it with expert precision. "My perfect girl. My beautiful little slut."
The degrading endearment sends me spiraling toward another climax. ‘Fuck, Daddy!”
"I love watching you lose control," he continues, his fingers working my clit while maintaining that punishing rhythm. "Love seeing you fall apart for me. No one else will ever make you feel like this."
"No one," I agree breathlessly. "Only you. Always you."
The combination of his words, his touch, and the relentless pressure of his cock inside me sends me over the edge again.
I scream as the climax tears through me, my body convulsing around him in waves that seem to go on forever.
Through the haze of pleasure, I feel him follow me over, his rhythm finally faltering as his own release overtakes him.
"Fuck, Kyra," he groans, his cock pulsing inside me as he empties himself. "So perfect. So fucking perfect."
The warmth of his come triggers aftershocks that make me clench around him again, drawing another groan from his throat. We stay locked together, both shaking from the intensity of what just happened.
When we finally separate, my body feels empty without him, already craving his return.
"Come here," he murmurs, pulling me against his side. I curl into him gratefully, my head on his chest where I can hear his heart gradually slowing.
I let out a long, content sigh. "I understand now why you were so confident. Why you knew I'd choose you."
"And why is that?"
"Because no one else could ever compare to this. To you." I look up at him, seeing satisfaction and something deeper in his eyes. "You've ruined me for anyone else, just like you said you would."
"Good," he says with fierce possessiveness. "That was always the plan."
I'm sated and claimed and completely his, and right now that feels like exactly where I'm supposed to be. "I love you," I whisper against his chest, the words coming easy. Natural.
"I love you too," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "More than you'll ever know. More than I thought myself capable of."
As I drift toward sleep, Victor's hand stroking my hair, I can't imagine wanting anyone but the man holding me.
The man who planned every detail of my seduction, who orchestrated my downfall and my salvation in equal measure. The man who saw what I needed before I knew it myself and was patient enough to wait for me to realize it too.
My captor. My savior. My future.
Mine.