Page 43 of Possession

“Yes. Yes.” I chant as the pressure inside me escalates. “I’m Daddy’s to use.”

“Daddy’s to breed. To put babies inside this little pussy.” He grunts with each thrust.

My vision blurs as my orgasm explodes around him. The creaking of the mattress and the wooden headboard hitting the wall plays out as background noise while I scream into the pillow, clinging onto the sheets as he erupts inside me, promising me a future I could only ever dream of.

Rafael

I fall onto her back, catching my weight on my elbows, then withdraw my cock, roll onto my back, and pull her on top of me. After positioning my weeping cock at her dripping hole, I stuff myself back inside her.

My hand finds her hair while her dainty fingers glide over my tattoos. “I like this one best,” she whispers sleepily. The tip of her finger follows the ink spelling “Oliver” over the center of my chest.

“Mmm, I thought you might.” I kiss the top of her head.

“I was worried you’d left to be with her,” she admits, then lifts her head to face me.

“Kendal?” I question, already knowing the answer.

She nods, a flush covers her cheeks, and I’m satisfied that she’s jealous, maybe she feels just as strongly as I do.

“She was nothing. Just a fuck.”

She swallows. “What am I, then?”

I tuck her locks behind her ear and answer her truthfully. “You’re mine. You belong to me.”

“I won’t share you, Rafael. I don’t want to be a whore, no matter how much I approve of in the bedroom.”

“Just the bedroom?” I lift my eyebrow playfully.

“You know what I mean.”

I nod. “She’s gone. She won’t return, and when I say you’re mine, I’m yours too.” Her shoulders slacken. “Only yours.” She bites into her lip to fight the smile creeping on her face.

We lie in a comfortable silence, and I wonder what she’s thinking. I know she’s holding back, no doubt the appearance of Kendal plaguing her thoughts. As much as I hate it, I’ve no control over her existence, but if she becomes an issue, I’ll put a bullet in her head and deal with the fallout with her family after.

“My mother, she killed herself.” I feel her swallow against my chest and my arms band around her protectively, hating the way her emotions bleed from her like a wound I can’t fix. “My father had lots of affairs, women of all ages. She hated being the other woman, being second best.” Her words hit me like a shot to my heart, leaving me speechless, unable to do anything but listen to the wobble in her voice as she speaks. “I always told myself, I’d never be second best. That I always deserved to be more, my children too. You know?” She lifts her head to search my face, and I can only nod, my mouth dry at the enormity behind her words. “To know my worth.”

Unshed tears fill her eyes and pain lances through my chest as I realize my inability to cure her sadness. So instead, I try to reassure her with the truth from somewhere deep inside me. I take a hold of her chin between my fingers, our eyes lock, and I tell her my truth.

“You’re worth every-fucking-thing.” The intensity behind my words has her throat working and my heart pounding erratically, because in that truth, I know she’s worth so much more than me, but that’s the one thing I refuse to give her. She will never be free from me, she’s mine.

We stare at one another for what feels like a lifetime, then she licks her lips. “What about your mother?”

I clear away the odd, scratchy sensation taking over my throat. “My father killed my mother.”

Her delicious little mouth falls open, forcing me to chuckle, and I feel the need to reassure her, as always. “It’s the Mafia way.” I shrug as I brush off the pain behind his actions.

“Do you know why?”

“No. I never wanted to know. I guess I always wanted to see my father as the man I respected, and I worried his response would cause me to hate him.”

Her eyes glisten, and I fidget at the clawing inside me over not knowing how to make her feel better. It’s one thing to have her crying for me when I fuck her. That comes from a place of our fucked-up pleasure, but it’s another thing when her tears come from sadness, something I hate.

“At least we’re broken together, Rafael.” A sad smile encompasses her face, and I will it to expand, to become a smile of joy instead of solitude.

“I’ll always fix you, Little Doll.” I lean forward and place a gentle kiss on her forehead, meaning every word, no matter how much the gnawing feeling of dread wells inside my stomach at saying them.

She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth, and a satisfied smile sits on her face as she rests her head back on my chest, then traces the tattoo of Oliver’s name.

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