31. Jamison #11
Her arms wrapped around my neck, and she pulled me down until her lips brushed mine. “Don’t stop.”
I lifted my head and studied her face. “Still green?”
Her answer came faster this time. “Green.”
“You hurt?”
“A little.” She swallowed, then moved her hips in a shy, testing way around me. “But it feels good too.”
Fuck.
I kissed her hard enough to swallow the sound I nearly made.
“Now Daddy can move,” I said against her mouth. “Little thrusts first. You keep breathing for me.”
She nodded, clinging.
I pulled out slowly.
The drag of her around me was obscene. I only withdrew halfway before pressing in again, watching her face for pain.
Again.
A little deeper this time.
Her breath hitched, and her nails pressed into my back, but her hips lifted to meet me.
“That’s my girl,” I murmured. “Taking your first fucking so well.”
Her eyes fluttered. The words hit her as hard as the stroke did. I felt it in the way she clenched.
“You feel that?” I asked, lowering my mouth to her ear. “How your body takes me better after you come?”
She made a tiny sound.
“That’s why I’ll always get you there first when you need it. Mouth, fingers, whatever my baby needs.”
Her hands slid into my hair again. “Your fingers.”
I slowed. “What about them?”
Her face went pink.
“Sienna.”
She pouted.
Actually pouted.
Soft lips swollen, full of my cock, and she pouted at me because I had taken my fingers away.
I stared down at her.
“You want my fingers back?”
She nodded.
“My greedy little girl.”
Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t deny it.
I kissed her mouth, smiling against it. “You had my mouth, my cock, and now you’re pouting for my fingers too.”
“You said I could have what I wanted.”
I laughed under my breath. “I did. Dangerous promise.”
“You made it.”
“I’ll keep it.”
Her eyes softened.
I slid my hand between us again. The second my fingers touched her clit, she gasped and her body squeezed down so hard I had to stop moving.
“Jesus.” My head dropped to her shoulder. “Baby, my ego and my self-control are both in critical condition.”
A breathless laugh shook out of her, immediately turning into a moan when I circled her softly.
“That’s it,” I whispered. “Fingers back. Happy?”
She nodded, biting her lip.
I brushed my thumb over her mouth. “Don’t hide the sounds. Give them to me.”
She released her lip and gave me a small, needy whimper as I started moving again.
Good.
Better than good.
Holy, if a man like me was allowed the word.
I thrust slowly while my fingers worked her, timing each stroke to the circling pressure. Her body met me now with more confidence, hips lifting, thighs open, and started trusting where it would take her.
The bed creaked beneath us.
I kissed her again, and as I did, her hand moved between our bodies for a moment, searching blindly, then found mine at her hip.
The token ring brushed my skin.
The wrong ring.
My gaze dropped to it. Still sitting on her finger while I was buried inside her. A possessive anger cut clean through the haze. That ring was coming off.
The second I finished making love to her, fucking her, I was taking that token off my baby’s finger. I was bringing out the ring downstairs. Mine. Chosen by me. Bought with a level of obsession that had kept me awake for two nights because none of them had seemed worthy of her hand.
My hand covered hers, pressing the token ring against her skin.
She opened her eyes.
I leaned down and kissed her knuckles, right over the wrong diamond.
“What?” she whispered.
“Nothing you need to worry about yet.”
Her brows drew together, but then my fingers circled harder, and the question dissolved into a gasp.
I slid into her with a slow, full stroke that made her moan.
I turned my cheek into her palm, and my hips slowed without conscious thought.
“I missed your hand,” I said.
“I’ll give it back,” she whispered.
Then she pulled me down and kissed me with so much feeling I lost the thread of every filthy thing I had been about to say.
The rhythm came back slower after that.
Deeper.
Her body moved with mine, less clumsy now, guided by my hand and the way her own need had begun to understand the pattern.
Her knees hugged my sides.
“That’s it,” I rasped. “Take me, baby.”
She whimpered and pulled me closer by the back of my neck. I kissed her hard, then dragged my mouth down her throat. I braced one hand beside her head, keeping the other between us, and shifted my angle until the next thrust made her cry out. Her body clamped around me so hard my vision blurred.
“That’s where you need me?”
She nodded, frantic.
I did it again.
She arched beneath me.
“Such a good girl taking Daddy’s dick nice and deep.”
Her hand flew to my wrist where my fingers worked her, holding me in place as if she feared I might stop. Every sound she made took another piece of restraint with it.
“Baby,” I said, kissing her jaw. “I’m getting close.”
Her eyes opened wider.
I slowed my hips just enough to hold the edge.
“You want Daddy to fill you up?”
Her entire body clenched. Fuck. I groaned and dropped my forehead to hers.
“That answers that.”
Her cheeks went pink, but she nodded.
“Say it.”
Her lips trembled. “I want you to.”
“Want what?”
She swallowed, eyes locked on mine. “Please daddy, fill me up.”
My control nearly broke clean through.
I kissed her, rougher than before, then held still inside her for one dangerous second.
“I’m going to give it to you tonight because you asked so sweetly.
But one day, when we’re ready for children…
” My voice went darker, pulled from some primitive place I had no interest in civilizing. “I’m going to breed you properly.”
Her breath stopped.
I moved again, letting her feel every inch while I spoke against her mouth.
“Every day, baby. Over and over. In our bed. In the shower. Before I leave for work. When I come home. I’ll keep filling you until your body takes me, until you’re pregnant with my child, and then I’ll spend months worshipping every inch of you for carrying what I put there.”
She made a broken sound and tightened around me so hard I had to pause.
“I’d love that, Daddy.” she whispered,
Everything in me stopped.
Then snapped.
I kissed her as my hips started moving again, no longer able to keep the rhythm as slow as before.
“Jesus, my baby do fucking desperate to have my come.”
Possessive. Consuming. My fingers circled her clit in time with every stroke, and her body took it, shaking beneath me, legs locked around my waist as if she wanted exactly what she had just said.
She’d love it.
My baby would love it.
I could see it too clearly: Sienna in my house, my ring on her finger, my child beneath her heart, her body round and soft from me. Mine in every legal, sacred, filthy way a woman could be mine.
The thought ruined me.
“You’re going to make me come,” I told her, voice rough against her lips. “Keep looking at me.”
Her eyes fought to stay open.
“That’s it. Good girl. Let me see you.”
She trembled harder. Her body had started climbing again, pulled by my hand, my cock. I felt the first tight warning flutter and knew she was close.
“Come with me,” I said. “Come on my cock again while I fill you.”
Her mouth opened, but the denial fell apart when I pressed deeper and stroked my fingers exactly where she needed.
She broke.
Her orgasm hit with a soft cry, her body locking around mine in tight, helpless pulses. It dragged me straight over the edge. I thrust once, twice, buried myself deep, and came inside her with a sound I couldn’t swallow.
Pleasure tore through me.
My hips pressed flush to hers while I filled her, every pulse of my release spilling into her body as she shook beneath me. I held her there, one arm under her back, the other braced beside her head, keeping her close while my body emptied into hers and my mind went white around one thought.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
I kissed her through it, sloppy and deep, breathing hard against her mouth as the last waves hit. She clung to me, trembling, her legs still locked at my waist. I could feel myself pulsing inside her, feel her body fluttering around me.
When it finally eased, I stayed buried.
I couldn’t move.
Her chest rose and fell beneath mine. Her fingers traced blindly over my back, softer now, as if she was checking I had survived too.
I laughed once, breathless, into her neck.
She made a sleepy, satisfied little sound that went straight into my bloodstream.
“Baby,” I murmured, kissing her temple. “You all right?”
She nodded, then held me tighter when I shifted a fraction.
“Don’t pull out.”
My eyes closed.
God.
“Sienna.”
“Please.” Her voice was muffled against my shoulder. “Not yet.”
Her body relaxed beneath mine at once.
I kissed her hair. “I’m staying right here.”
She turned her face into my neck and breathed me in, still wrapped around me. I held her through the aftershocks. My hand smoothed over her hip.
“You did so well,” I whispered. “So fucking well, baby.”