Chapter 38 Madeline
Madeline
We stepped out of the bath. My legs still trembled from how long he’d held me, palms firm on my hips, mouth tracing the top of my shoulder whenever I exhaled too fast.
The towel slid over my arms. He dried me like I might bruise if he rushed.
He kissed my shoulder, the same spot he’d kissed when he pulled me into the water earlier.
“I miss you,” he murmured. “Miss being where I belong. Inside my girl. My home.”
Heat tightened low in my stomach.
“You say things like that,” I breathed, “and then wonder why we have no boundaries inside walls.”
His hand paused at my waist. “We don’t need boundaries in private.”
“We probably do,”
“You’ll never convince me of that.”
I tried to keep my composure but he leaned in and pressed another kiss to my shoulder, slower this time.
“Remember our weekend baby? A whole day of me inside you. You let me stay inside you while you pissed for me.”
My face went hot, painfully hot. “Don’t bring that up.”
“I’ll bring it up every day until you accept how perfect you were for me,” he kissed my cheek. “The way you leaned back into me, trusting me with something you’d never let anyone else see?”
I covered my face with my hand. “Stop.”
He smiled. I could hear it.
“You’re blushing everywhere,” he murmured. “I love it.”
“You’re basically a caveman.”
“You love that.” He touched my hips, thumbs rubbing small circles. “Sore?”
“No.”
“Good. Then I’m going to cook for my girl.” He sat on the edge of the bed.
He ran his knuckles down my side, the heavy cold metal of his ring dragging over my skin and leaving goosebumps behind.
For a moment, I just admired him.
Towel slung low on his hips, toned, the kind of muscles you got from actually using your body, not posing in a gym mirror. Tattoos covered his arms and chest, ink over hard muscle, a few faded scars cutting through like reminders he’d earned all of it the hard way.
He looked like every bad decision a girl was warned about—tattooed, dangerous, smug as hell—and somehow still the only place I felt safe standing.
His hands resting on my thighs the moment I stepped between them.
“Come here. Sit on Daddy.”
I untied his towel, and dropped mine. His eyes ran up me slow. Up and down. I would never get used to the intensity of his eyes.
I climbed onto his lap, knees braced on either side of him. My hands slid over his shoulders. His chest rose once, like he’d been starving for just this.
I reached down, lined him up with a slow, practiced tilt of my hips, and sank down on dick.
His head dropped back instantly.
“Fuck—baby—That’s—God, that’s home.” His fingers dug into my hips.
I tightened around him instinctively, chest pressed to his. My hand found his jaw and tipped his face forward until his eyes met mine.
“Tal ven arik, Adar,” I whispered. I love Daddy.
His breath broke. Even if we’re toxic, I added silently, but he heard it anyway. Something inside him snapped in the way it only did when he lost the last bit of restraint he pretended to keep.
He kissed me hard, one hand into my hair, the other gripping my waist as his hips rolled up once, slow but deep enough to make a gasp catch in my throat.
He swallowed it with his mouth.
“Daddy’s home. Right where I belong.”
Another slow thrust. Heat shot through me too quickly.
I tried to breathe steadily but my body betrayed me, my back arched, my fingers curled into his shoulders, and every exhale sounded too close to a moan.
He kissed the underside of my jaw. “Fuck. Thats it.”
His hands held me steady, hips lifting into me again with the kind of rhythm he gave me when he was claiming without saying it.
He kissed the top of my shoulder.
“I know, baby, I know. Roll over. Back to Daddy, angel.”
I shifted carefully on his lap, easing forward, letting him guide me with steady hands until my chest met the mattress and my hips tilted back toward him. His palm smoothed down my spine, and it always made my breath stutter.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
He moved behind me, hands firm on my hips, adjusting me, settling himself. He pushed his dick in slowly. So. Fucking slowly.
My heart lurched. His hands slid over my waist, one flattening low on my stomach, the other guiding my hips back into him. His cock slowly sunk into my pussy.
“Baby…”
“This is where I live,” he murmured, chest pressed to my back, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Inside my girl. Inside my perfect sub.”
Heat pooled low in my stomach.
“There are no boundaries when I’m here. Not for me. Not for you. We don’t have them. We never will. Say it baby,”
One hard thrust.
“No, boundaries,” I gasped.
“Daddy, can do what I want with your pussy, can’t he?”
Another hard thrust, that stole my breath.
“Yes.”
“Fuck, such a good girl for me,” His hands moved of my ass.
My fingers curled into the sheets as he held me against him.
“I’ll always be inside you,” he murmured. “That’s who we are. That’s how we work. I finish… and you hold. You stay full for me like the perfect sub you are.”
“Vince…”
He pressed a kiss to my back, right below my shoulder blade. “Say it.”
“What?”
“That you’ll keep me. Every time Daddy finishes. Every time I fill my girl. That you’ll hold it because it’s mine.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes, Daddy. I will.”
“Oh—Fuck. Aren’t you a good girl for daddy. My perfect girl. Holding daddy’s come.” He slid his hand down my stomach again, pressing me back against him, his breath hot at my neck. “I stay inside. Always. Even when you need to piss, say it.”
A shocked sound escaped me.
“You think I’m letting go of you for a second? Never. I carry you. I hold you. I take you to the bathroom with me still inside. Because you’re mine.”
Another long thrust, as his fingers circled my clit.
“If I want to call your pussy home for a day. It’s fucking home. My cock stays in hard, soft, doesn’t matter. You stay plugged with my come. Every load I give.”
I felt dizzy from the intensity of it, the raw, honest possession threaded through every word.
“Baby. Say it for Daddy. You’re dom, wants to hear it.”
“I… I will,” I breathed. “You stay inside. Even then.”
His lips brushed the shell of my ear. “Good girl. Because, Daddy’s going to finish in you, baby
His hand fit perfectly against my hip. I braced myself on the bed, clenching the sheets.
“And you’re going to hold it for me,” he murmured, thumb stroking the inside of my clit. “You know the rules.”
“Yes.”
He kissed just below my ear, “You’ve got two options tonight.”
His hand dragged up my stomach, fingers spreading under my ribs, holding me like I was something he wanted to guard with his entire life.
He gave me a slow roll of his hips. “Because we don’t waste daddy’s come do we baby?”
“No...”
“Option one. Daddy stays inside you, keep it safe with my cock… or—”
I swallowed hard.
“—I put a plug in to hold it until I fill you again.”
A hot, sharp sound came out of me before I could stop it. He heard everything.
“Yeah,” he breathed, nuzzling the curve of my jaw. “That reaction. You love the possession, don’t you, baby?”
My legs trembled. “Yes.”
He went still, the kind of still that felt like gravit
“Say it in Daddy’s tongue.”
My throat tightened. But the words rose anyway, soft and obedient.
“Kor adar… yes, Daddy.”
He hissed in a breath against my skin. “Good girl.”
“Choose me or the plug, sweetheart. Because Daddy needs to get dinner on. And I’m not walking into that kitchen without you full of me.”
My pulse fluttered so hard it hurt.
“You,” I whispered immediately. “I choose you.”
His sigh was almost a groan, relief, possession, hunger all tied together.
“Perfect girl.” His hand guided my hips back, and he slid into me with one smooth thrust that made my vision blur. His forehead pressed to my shoulder as he bottomed out, breath breaking, body shaking with how tightly I clenched around him.
My hands reached behind me, searching blindly until his fingers laced with mine. He squeezed once, and then he started moving.
Slow.
Deep.
Controlled.
Like he wanted to etch the memory into every nerve ending I owned.
“Baby, I know you’re close. But, I’m not finishing you, until after dinner. Can you do that for me?” he murmured.
I nodded. I would agree to anything, as he kept this pace.
His rhythm built the way it always did when he wasn’t rushing, when he wanted me soft and broken open on nothing but the feeling of him.
His breath hit my shoulder in ragged waves.
His hand traveled from my ribs to my hip to my lower stomach, holding me in place like he needed my body to remember exactly where he belonged.
I pushed back into him, helpless.
“That’s it. Take your Daddy. Take every bit of me…” His breath hitched, one sharp, devastating sound, as his hips drove deep once, twice.
He finished hard, heat flooding into me. His forehead pressed to my shoulder. His breath broken.
He didn’t move.
“Don’t let it go. Hold Daddy’s come.”
My eyes fluttered shut. “I am.”
His hand slid down, palm cupping me possessively from behind, keeping me sealed around him.
“Good,” he gently moved me, to face him. He shifted, until he had me lifted against his chest again, legs weak, breath shaking. Without leaving me, he hooked his arms under my thighs and stood, holding me off the ground, my chest against his, my body wrapped around him like we were one.
He carried me to the kitchen.
Still inside me.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he murmured as he set me on the edge of the counter, his hips pinning me in place so he stayed seated deep inside me. “Daddy’s going to cook for my girl.”
My fingers curled into his forearms as he reached for the stove controls, his body never leaving mine.
“I’m going to make steak for you. The way you like it. Garlic, butter. Potatoes on the side.”
A slow roll of his hips made my breath stutter.
“And you’re going to stay full for me the entire time.”
My throat tightened. “Vince…”