Page 14 of Claimed By Daddy

"Lena," he growls. "Christ, Lena."

Hot spurts of cum land on my skin, marking me as his. I tremble under the hot cascade, feeling utterly claimed, possessed.

He works out every drop, stroking himself until he's practically shaking above me.

He's so beautiful like this. His eyes are wild, glazed over with lust in a way that's purely animalistic. His cheeks are flushed, his lips slightly parted as he pants and groans. His chest heaves, the rhythm of his breathing ragged and uneven. Every strained breath he takes sends tremors through his body, causing the muscles in his ripped abdomen to twitch and contract.

He's equal parts power and vulnerability, the most incredible man I've ever met. And for some reason, he's chosen me—messy, curvy, naive, never-been-kissed little Lena—to be his little girl.

In this moment, I think I fall in love with him. Not with the man who wants to be my Daddy. Not with the gruff man who probably doesn't laugh enough. But with every single rough, raw, vulnerable piece of him.

He releases his cock after a moment, reaching for me again. His fingers swipe through the sticky mess he left all over my thighs and mound, gathering it up. I tremble as his fingers slip lower, sliding through my folds.

"This goes right here, little girl," he growls, pushing his seed inside me. "We don't waste it."

My breath hitches, and my voice is just a whisper, "I-I'm not on birth control, Carver."

His expression shifts, a feral glint igniting in his gunmetal gray eyes. "Good," he snarls, a dark promise woven into that single word. "Then there's nothing stopping me from breeding this perfect little thing."

A visceral jolt surges through me at his words, my core clenching. He mentioned breeding me earlier. I thought it was the heat of the moment…but it wasn't. He wants it. And God help me, so do I.

His lips find mine in a kiss that's startlingly gentle, a stark contrast to the rest of him. He brands me with it, stealing little pieces of my soul and claiming them as his. But I think he hands over just as many pieces of his own in the process.

When he breaks away, he scoops me up from the floor into his arms, rising to his feet. I curl around him, feeling safe and secure in a way I never have. Sure, I have safety and security at home. I have a grandfather who loves me and a cousin who would do anything for me. But I've never had intimacy, never had someone care for me like this. It's instantly addictive.

Carver deposits me on the bed, his massive frame enveloping me as he drags me under him. The heat of his body sears me as he aligns us, pinning me beneath him as if to ensure I can't escape. My legs instinctively wrap around his hips, pulling him closer.

"Carver," I gasp, caught between apprehension and unbridled need when I feel his erection pressing against my sex.

"Shh, little angel," he murmurs against my neck. "Daddy's got you."

Pinned beneath his massive form, his breath hot on my neck, I wait for him to take me, to make me his in every way. I may be nervous, but the throb between my thighs begs for more of him.

But he doesn't give it to me.

"Sleep now, pretty angel," he rumbles, pressing a kiss just below my ear.

My mind spins, caught off guard. "But I thought—"

He lays a finger against my lips, silencing me. "It's time to sleep now. We'll play again after you rest. Close those pretty green eyes, little girl." His voice is soft, yet there's no mistaking the command.

I can't help but obey, my eyelids fluttering shut as I sink deeper into the bed beneath him—and deeper into trust. His arms are a fortress around me, strong and secure.

In this moment, I'm untouchable.

No. I'm his.

Chapter Four

Carver

The sizzle of bacon fills the kitchen as I flip it over, golden and crispy just how Lena said she likes it. Personally, I prefer mine burnt. But what my little angel wants, she gets.

She's perched in a chair at the table, her green eyes wide as she watches me cook for her. Those eyes have been on me all morning. She's fucking adorable, staring like she can't look away.

"What's your favorite color?" she asks, tilting her head to one side. She's been doing that all morning too, peppering me with questions as if she's determined to learn every single thing there is to know about me.

I guess that's what I get for not letting her come before I hauled her out of bed to feed her. She's much more docile after she's had an orgasm. But if I'm going to be her daddy, I'm going to do it right. As much as I want to fuck her every moment of the day, her needs come before my own.

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