Page 35 of Daddy's Mad Love

“Can’t you just do it?”

That startled an actual laugh from him.

“I could. But I want to hear you say it. You’re going to have to say that and much more very soon.” He was referencing the bargain we’d made.

But I didn’t have to yet. Mrs. Smith wasn’t safe yet, though she and Arthur were safe for tonight, spending it in one of the many guest rooms in the house. She and Serena had bonded instantly, and Serena had been thrilled to spoil Arthur, even managing to get him to play. He was such a serious child, it had been a joy to see him finally relax enough to be silly before Giacomo had come to fetch me.

I shook my head again, even though I knew I was not going to be able to hold out much longer. The strain of needing to climax while he tormented me was driving me batty.

Then a finger brushed against my bottom hole.

“If you don’t ask for my cock in your pussy, then I suppose I could put it here again.” His finger pressed on the crinkled rosette that he’d ruthlessly invaded last night, and my eyes popped open in horror.

“No! Daddy, please, I need your cock in my pussy!” The words tumbled out, one over the other. Saying them to save my bottom from having to take his cock again was more than worth it, pride be damned.

“Since you insist.”

The wicked way he said it made it sound like he thought I really meant it… and I might have. I needed the erotic torment to end, and if this is what it took and what saved my bottom, then so be it. His fingers slid away, and suddenly, he was looming over me, trapping me beneath him, the head of his cock rubbing over the slick seam of my pussy. I sucked in a breath, then moaned as he thrust in, filling me in one hard stroke.

My fingers flexed on his shoulders, hips lifting upward to meet his thrust as he stretched me open.

It felt so good.

Looking up at him, I could see the possessiveness in his gaze—the way he looked at me claimed me even more than his cock inside me did. I was pinned beneath him, surrounded by him, filled by him, and when he began to move, the surge of pleasure that crashed through me was shocking in its intensity. I hung on for dear life as he began to move, his cock stroking back and forth inside me, his body rubbing against mine every time he thrust inward.

My nails dug into his shoulders as he began to move harder, faster, using me for his pleasure even as my own grew to greater and greater heights.

“Good girl,” he growled as I moaned again, shuddering beneath him. “You love Daddy’s cock, don’t you?”

I wanted to say no, but his hand pressed against my hip, his thumb rubbing against my swollen clit, and the answer was lost to a wild cry. It would have been a lie, anyway.

I did love the way he felt inside me. I loved the pleasure that was growing, the way he handled my body, the oncoming climax.

But I hated him.

I think.

“That’s it, little one. Come for, Daddy. Come on Daddy’s cock.”

Filthy, lewd words that pushed me over the edge. I was as perverse as him—my pussy clenched at the depraved commands, the ecstasy flowing over me, exploding inside me.

“Oh Daddy… Daddy!”

I was out of my mind, that was the only explanation for it, but I couldn’t hold the cries back. His words had stuck with me, and that’s what was at the top of my thoughts. Calling him Daddy just felt oddly natural.

It had an immediate effect on him as well. His thrusts became wild, driving me higher and higher, and I screamed with passion as he impaled me again and again, finally burying himself inside me. Wet heat throbbed within me, and I clung to him, an anchor in the storm of sensations threatening to drown me.

Every part of my body felt so exquisitely sensitive, and I was quivering like a tuning fork as he slumped over me. The heavy weight of him felt oddly comforting as I panted for breath, shuddering with the last waves of rapturous pleasure.

When he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight to fall asleep, I didn’t fight him.

Jack

The commotion outside drew everyone’s attention from the breakfast table.

“What is he saying?” my mother asked, frowning. Normally, the paper was delivered quietly, but whenever something of particular note happened, the paper boys would go running through the streets shouting to get the attention of passersby and those inside.

“I’m sure we’ll find out in a minute,” my father replied, glancing at me as he looked up from the paper that had already been delivered before dawn.