Page 20 of Fear Me, Love Me

He stills but doesn’t pull out, and he traces his fingers over the spot where we’re joined.

“So full of me, angel. My cock, my cum. Beautiful.”

A warm feeling swells through me, and I close my eyes.

Tyrant pulls out and spreads me open. He rubs his thumb over my lips again and again as if admiring the sight. “Oh, fuck yes. That’s a well-used pussy.” Then he shoves himself back inside me again. “Hold still. I’m getting you pregnant this time.”

In the silence that follows, there’s a knocking on my door and someone calls, “Vivienne? Are you okay in there?”

I feel Tyrant glance toward the door. That’s Julia out there. If she comes in here and sees Tyrant, it won’t be good for her. I don’t know what Tyrant would do to someone who tries to stop him from doing exactly what he wants to do.

Tyrant hooks a finger into my gag and moves it away from my mouth. “Scream for help if you want to.”

A man has forced his way into my bedroom, tied me up, and started screwing me in my sleep. I should be screaming the place down.

“I-I’m fine. Sorry about the noise,” I call, sounding more than a little shaky and out of breath. “I was just, um, doing some yoga.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.” Footsteps retreat down the corridor.

Tyrant laughs under his breath. “I’m yoga now?”

His hands are braced on either side of my head, and I watch the thick vein on his arm and the muscles of his forearm flexing.

“Can I have the gag back, please?” I miss the comforting fullness in my mouth.

“Of course you can, angel,” he murmurs lovingly and pushes the gag back into place. My eyes slowly close. Bliss. Trussed up, mouth full, and pinned down by Tyrant’s cock is the safest I’ve felt in a long time.

“What’s this?”

I crack open an eye as I feel the bed shift. Tyrant has leaned down and picked up something off the floor. It’s my sketchbook, which I left open to the drawing of my pregnant belly and his hand covering mine. I couldn’t reach out and snatch it away from him even if I wanted to.

“Angel, this is fucking beautiful,” he breathes.

I feel Tyrant’s cock swell inside me. He drops the sketchbook and grasps my hips, surging deeper. He hasn’t even pulled out and he’s going again. Lowering himself onto his elbows, he pushes his hand beneath my body and his fingertip grazes my clit.

Lips against my ear, he groans in an achingly horny voice, “I’m going to make everything perfect for you, angel. You and this baby are going to have everything you want. All you have to do is give me your life and soul when I ask for it. Are you ready for that? Never question me. Never doubt me. Do everything I say, and I’ll give you everything you want.”

I moan against the gag, his voice and his fingers driving me headlong into pleasure.

Tyrant laughs softly and runs his tongue along my throat. “Of course you will. You’re Tyrant’s good girl, aren’t you?”

Tyrant’s good girl is being helplessly fucked into the mattress. My pussy is tightening hungrily on his cock. I’m whimpering against the gag.

I’m your good girl.

I’m your good girl.

I love being yours.

He fucks me so hard that my bed bashes against the wall, but I’m too far gone to care. Let them all hear. It doesn’t matter anymore when I belong to the most dangerous man in Henson. They’re all going to find out. They’re all going to judge me. The world can’t turn its back on me any more than it already has. Tyrant will always be there for me, and he’s all I need.

My core lights up, and I cry out into the pillow. Tyrant sinks his teeth into my shoulder with a growl as his thrusts grow sharp and urgent. Warm liquid gushes between my thighs. I’m a slippery mess of my own wetness and two of Tyrant’s climaxes.

He pushes himself up and looks down between us, breathing heavily. “You should see me buried inside you, angel. I’m covered in us.” Pleased by the sight, he fucks me slowly with his still-hard cock. “I’m so deep inside you. I want to be even deeper.”

The aftershocks of my orgasm and his movements have me crying out against my gag as I listen to the wet sounds of his thrusts. He strokes my hair, traces the long line of my spine with his forefinger, and reaches beneath me to squeeze my breasts.

“All mine,” he whispers. “Don’t do anything to make me angry, and it will always be like this, angel.”

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