Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
“My innocent virgin sucks me like a dirty cockslut, huh?” His hands are out from beneath his head now, his long fingers twisting in my hair, urging me on with slow, upward pumps of his hips. “You know you found the one that’s going to satisfy your little pussy. That’s why it tastes so motherfucking good, Meg. Listen to your body telling you I’m your Daddy.”
I transform in that moment and disappear into a blue haze. That claim of ownership and his obvious pleasure take me to a different world and I have no insecurities or hesitation here. Just my mouth that was crafted for sucking and my sopping wet sex that no longer alarms me, only makes me feel right. I know everything about me is right and perfect because of the possessive way he looks at me.
And so I don’t hesitate to clamber breathlessly onto his heaving, sweat-slicked body now, locking our mouths together while his fist moves between my legs, guiding his length to my entrance, shouting a vile curse when he finds me ready, so ready, so ready, cramming himself inside of me with a decisive jerk of his wrist, my insides jarred and stupefied by the inundation of pressure, but it passes after a moment, the worst of it passes, and now I’m joined with him. It’s the most tremendous victory I can imagine, my body fitting this man’s and pleasuring it. Pleasuring him. He’s had so little in his life and it becomes my duty now to rain it down on him, like the goddess he suspects me to be.
“You fill me up so tight, Daddy,” I whisper against his mouth, my lips tilting like a feline’s when his eyes roll back into his head and he clutches my butt cheeks, begging me with incoherent words to move, move, move. And I do. I move like no one before or after, in ways neither one of us suspected I could. I bury my face in his neck and smack my hips up and down, then in smaller, quicker humps that make him call for God through his teeth. “Put that salty stuff inside me,” I whine, biting his ear. “I want it. It’s mine.”
“Fucking right it’s yours.” He rakes his open mouth up the side of my face. “It’s called my come, Meg. My come is what you want. My body makes more of it every second of the day and we need to get it out. That’s why your mouth and pussy are going to be swollen so goddamn often. My come.”
“Then I love your come.”
“Good girl.” His hips lift me high and bounces me—repeatedly—his gaze hot on my breasts as they rebound and shake. I sob at the gathering of the unknown beneath my navel. It’s a lot like last night in the field, but bigger. Fuller. Monumental. “I love your fucking come, too, Meg. It belongs on this cock. Drench my fucking cock.”
I don’t have a choice.
The vibrations start at a place within me I can’t name. Or it didn’t exist until Koen discovered it. The reverberations tremor up my hips, then arrow in toward my belly, diving in, diving low and intertwining with my sex organs in the most indescribable way. Yanking.
“Koen!”
“Meg,” he rasps, turning me over, his teeth bared as he pumps between my spread legs, the patterns of his tattoos shifting in the moonlight. Flexing while that part of him that thickens more, more, more, threatens to either tear me in half or make me explode with pleasure again. I don’t know which. Only that I covet his aggressions. His assault.
I beg for it loudly and brokenly.
“Do have any idea how tight you are?” he growls in my ear, his body moving frantically with mine, his hips pressing my knees wide open on the bed. “Don’t you dare tell anyone your cunt is this fucking tight. That’s our secret, Meg. I’ll have to kill men to keep them away and I’ve already got enough blood on my hands. Jesus. You’re a work of art.”
His praise makes those delicate muscles quicken all over again, making me cinch around him even tighter and my hips move in a swivel, instinctively offering him friction. “I won’t tell anyone it’s so little, Daddy.”
He roars when he comes, his muscular frame stiffening, choked sounds breaking from his lips while a great tide of warmth enters me, bathes me in the place I’ve needed it since I met him, without realizing why. The why is that my body belongs to Koen. Every inch. Every response he elicits from it. All of me.
“Mine!” he bellows, punching his fist through the headboard, splintering the wood.
But I’m not scared. No, not of this man.
He’d take on the world for me. That’s what his body and words and eyes tell me.