Page 124 of Unwrapping Deviance

I lift my hips. Part my knees. I’m dying to feel him slide that beautiful dick back inside me. It feels like days...

Sharp, stinging pain erupts across my right ass cheek. It latches with the same severity as the teeth Daniel has sunk into my soft flesh, drawing blood.

Marking me.

I scream even as my body buckles with desire. As it skates up my spine. Tightens around my clit. It’s unbearable and tears burn my eyes, but I don’t tell him to stop.

But when he does, the release of his jaw, the rush of blood returning to the spot, the new burn has my core rushing. Trickling down my thighs.

I mash my damp face into the sheets, back heaving between sobs and uncontrollable moans as I fight the crippling wave of orgasm tightening the pit of my stomach.

Daniel laps the spot with the flat of his tongue, soothing the ache he’s caused. I have to resist the urge to tilt my hips just a fraction to get that tongue between my lips.

“Daniel,” I breathe.

My answer is the harsh jerk of my body getting yanked over the side of the bed. My feet hit the floor and are kicked wide. The weight of his solid frame comes down across my back, pinning my torso to the mattress. His thick, hard cock wedges into my ass crack. The denim a harsh texture against my naked skin. His hand knots in my hair and my head is pulled back enough for his lips to graze my ear.

“You make Daddy so fucking hard, Mira. But when I say no, you will listen, understand?”

My bottom lip trembles. I try to nod, but his grip on my hair is unwavering.

“Yes,” I whisper shakily.

His hold doesn’t loosen, and I can feel strands being torn from my scalp, adding to my sweet pain.

“Good. Next time, I will edge you until you can’t breathe. I will torture you until you lose your fucking mind. I will keep you there until I feel like you’ve learned your lesson.”

I don’t know if he’s intentionally trying to turn me on or scare me, but I’m barely keeping it together.

It’s only the threat of not being allowed to cum that stills my hips from rubbing at him like a kitten in heat.

Vaguely, I hear him mutter a curse and jerk his hips back. His hand releases my hair. The loss of support sends my face into the mattress where I stay, struggling to control my breathing, to control the tiny waves of climax prickling and tightening around my clit. The pulse. It’s so overwhelming I need to close my thighs. I need pressure to soothe the ache, but he’s keeping me bent over and open and I can feel the chill in the room whispering along my wet folds. Tracing my empty opening. Licking the arousal smeared across my skin.

I whine, the sound pathetic even to my own ears and curl my stiff fingers into the sheets. I’m practically on my toes like he might take pity on me and slide his cock home.

“You’re dripping, Mira. Your little cunt is making puddles on the floor.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as humiliation burns behind them with tears. “I’m sorry. I think there’s something wrong with me,” I croak into the sheets.

“Wrong?” His fingers smooth between my lips. Between my folds. They find my clit, the heart of my agony and rub with the lightest whisper of his fingertips. Not enough. “Oh, my sweet little doll, no. This is exactly how I want my toy — so horny her pussy leaks down her legs. I bet you feel so good right now. So tight and ready.”

“Fill me. Please, Daddy. Fill me before you tuck me into bed.”

“Goddamn it!” I hear him snarl under his breath and a liquid rush of excitement joins the flow dripping across the hardwood between my parted feet.

I hear the sharp hiss of a zipper, the rustle of denim.

“Hold still, baby. Daddy needs to feel you like this.”

Is all the warning he gives before driving his cock deep into my willing body.

Time collapses around me with that single plunge. It’s not mindless like in the truck, but he’s methodical in the way he’s fucking me with slow, measured strokes that drive me up onto my toes.

“Fuck, yes...” he groans with such guttural pleasure I clench around his dick. “Good girl, fuck, you’re such a good girl. You take Daddy’s cock so well.”

I’m dying to move. To meet his hips. I need more, but I’m pinned under the palm pressed into my lower back. He’s keeping me still. Stationary.

A toy.

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