Caught In Your Bed #2
Humiliation floods me, sharp and hot. I should shove him off, I should scream, I should do anything but writhe under him like this, naked and desperate.
Instead, I part my lips and let his fingers slide inside, tasting myself on his skin.
His eyes darken instantly, hunger flaring, but he doesn’t break.
“That’s better,” he whispers. “Good little slut.”
The words sting, but they also make me clench around nothing, my body betraying me again.
He drags his wet fingers down my chest, leaving a slick trail, and pinches my nipple until I gasp. “Quiet,” he growls, glancing toward the door. “Do you want her to hear?”
The threat makes me freeze, horror slicing through the haze of lust. Kate. Just down the hall. My best friend.
He sees the panic in my eyes and smiles like a wolf. “That’s it. Stay scared. Stay desperate. Makes you tighter.”
I bite my lip so hard it almost bleeds, trying to stay silent as his hand slides lower again, skimming the edge of what I crave, never giving me relief. My hips jerk helplessly, searching, begging, and he shakes his head slowly.
“You don’t get to cum tonight,” he whispers, voice low, dangerous. “Not until I decide you’ve earned it. And I promise you, baby girl—you’re nowhere near earning it.”
Tears sting my eyes from the frustration, the ache clawing through me so sharp it’s unbearable. I choke out a sob, muffled into his chest, and he kisses the top of my head like he hasn’t just broken me in half.
“Sweet little liar,” he murmurs, stroking my hair almost tenderly. “You’ll keep pretending you don’t want me, but your body will always tell the truth.”
And then he settles between my thighs, so close, so heavy, his cock pressing against my slick folds without entering. Teasing. Threatening. Ruining me slow.
“You’re going to cry for it,” he promises darkly, rocking against me with brutal control. “You’re going to beg until your voice breaks. And I’m going to make sure you never forget how it feels to be denied by me.”
His cock slides against me, heavy and hot, but he doesn’t push in. Every pass is a taunt—so close my body convulses, desperate to take him in, but he holds himself back with brutal restraint.
“Beg,” he murmurs, dragging his teeth along my throat. “Beg properly.”
I shake my head, lips pressed tight, refusing to give him what he wants.
His hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back until I gasp, the sharp sting shooting down my spine. “Don’t play games with me, baby girl. You think you can win? You think you can outlast me?”
His cock grinds harder, sliding through the slick mess he’s already made of me, the head nudging my clit just enough to rip a whimper out of me.
“There it is,” he whispers in my ear, voice dripping with victory. “Every time you say you don’t want me, your body says otherwise. Every roll of your hips, every gasp—liar.”
I want to scream at him, claw at him, shove him away, but instead I arch helplessly into the friction, shame burning through me like gasoline.
“You’re trembling again.” His tone is soft now, cruel in its gentleness, his thumb stroking the tears I don’t even realise are falling. “And it’s not fear. It’s hunger.”
My breath stutters. “You’re cruel.”
“And you love it.”
The words slice through me. Because they’re true.
He pulls back suddenly, the loss of him a violent ache, and I nearly cry out from the emptiness. He smirks, watching the way my body jerks toward him like it’s not mine anymore.
“Kate’s in the next room,” he says, almost conversationally, his eyes locked on mine. “Sleeping. Dreaming. She doesn’t have a clue that her perfect little friend is spread out under her daddy, dripping, begging, and ready to sin.
Shame claws at my throat so hard I can barely breathe. “Don’t—don’t say that.”
His palm covers my mouth again, pressing me down into the mattress. “Then stay quiet.” His cock brushes me again, harder this time, a brutal reminder of how close I am to falling apart. “You don’t want her to hear, do you?”
I shake my head violently, tears streaking hotly down my temples.
“Good girl,” he growls, shifting just enough to press the thick head against my entrance. Not pushing in, not giving me what I want—just holding me on the knife’s edge, my body clenching around nothing, desperate and wrecked.
“Stay quiet,” he warns again. “Or I’ll make sure she hears.”
The threat nearly kills me. My heart hammers so loud I’m sure it’ll give me away, my entire body trembling, burning, begging.
And still, he doesn’t give in.
He holds me like this, his cock teasing the edge of my sanity, his breath hot against my ear. “You’ll break tonight,” he whispers, absolute in his certainty. “And when you do, baby girl, you’ll never survive me.”
His cock nudges deeper, just the tip pressing inside, and my whole body bows off the bed. The stretch is a scream, a promise—and then he pulls back, leaving me empty again.
“No,” I choke out, my voice raw, desperate. “Please—”
He grins, cruel, savouring every ounce of my weakness. “That’s better. That’s how you beg.” His thumb drags across my swollen lips before pressing back over my mouth, sealing my words into whimpers. “But not good enough.”
The next thrust is harder, deeper, but only for a second—enough to make my eyes roll back, enough to make me clench helplessly around nothing when he withdraws again. My hips chase him, pathetic, needy, but he pins me down with his hand in my hair, his body immovable.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, mocking growl. “So wrecked you’d sell your soul just to have me stay inside you.”
Tears blur my vision, shame hot on my cheeks, but my body keeps betraying me—arching, straining, begging.
“You want me to fuck you while my daughter sleeps down the hall?” he taunts, his breath hot against my ear. “You want me to ruin you where anyone could walk in and see?”
I shake my head, whimper muffled against his palm.
“Liar,” he breathes. “Your pussy’s telling me the truth. You’re dripping all over me.”
Another thrust—this one deeper, staying a heartbeat longer. I sob against his hand, half from relief, half from the agony of knowing he’s going to pull out again. And he does, laughing darkly at the broken sound I make.
“Say it,” he orders, his lips brushing mine. “Say you’re mine.”
My body is a live wire, my mind a blur. The word tears out of me before I can stop it. “Yours.”
His eyes blaze. “Again.”
“Yours,” I gasp, shame and hunger twisting into one. “I’m yours, daddy.”
That’s when he breaks.
He slams into me in one brutal stroke, filling me to the hilt, and the sound I make is pure sin, muffled against his palm as my body convulses around him.
His teeth sink into my shoulder, his growl vibrating through me as he thrusts again and again, hard and unrelenting, the predator finally claiming his prey.
“Mine,” he snarls into my skin, each thrust punctuating the word. “You fucking belong to me.”
The bed jerks against the wall, the headboard slamming loud enough to make terror spike through me, but he doesn’t slow, doesn’t care, doesn’t stop.
If Kate hears, if anyone walks in, it won’t matter.
He’s lost in me, feral and savage, and I can’t stop clawing at him, begging for more even as shame and guilt drown me.
My orgasm rips through me, violent and unstoppable, my body clenching so hard around him he curses, fucking me through it until he shudders, spilling inside me with a snarl that sounds like damnation itself.
We collapse together, panting, trembling, my face buried in his shoulder to muffle the broken sobs tearing out of me. His arms lock around me like chains, holding me tight, claiming me in the aftermath just as fiercely as he did in the act.
And for one terrifying, devastating moment I don’t care if Kate finds out.