A doll.
It shouldn’t but a thrill tears through me and I do my best to be the perfect doll for him. I keep my ass high and my thighs steady even when the pressure building in my core threatens to make them tremble. I crush the sheets between my fingers and hold my breath but he feels too good and I’ve been on edge for so long.
“Daddy, I’m cumming,” I squeak. “I’m cumming. Please ... please, fuck me.”
The hand on my back lifts. It vanishes for a second before it’s sliding under my right knee. Lifting it. Propping it on the mattress while my other foot stays balanced on its toes.
His other hand clamps down on the back of my neck. Holds me down.
“Does my little doll want to cum?”
I can’t nod. I can’t move. I’m powerless as he increases speed. I’m helpless and spiraling as he angles his hips, his dick and hits something inside me that makes me see stars.
I think I scream but it’s lost in the roar of endless nothing I plummet into as he pounds my pussy like it owes him money. Not an ounce of gentleness. Not a care that he’s bruising my skin. He has one goal, one mission and it’s to kill me with orgasms.
I’m not sure I’m even fully conscious when he finally empties his load inside me and gathers me up into his chest, but I have a fleeting remembrance that I need to take my pills before I slip into a deep slumber.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHRISTIAN
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It’s kissing six in the morning when I slip Mira’s door open and edge inside. I know she’s alone; Daniel and I crossed paths the night before as I was leaving the bathroom, and he was leaving Mira.
Not ashamed to admit I’d gone in to pee and stayed to jerk my dick to her pitiful whimpers while her daddy pounded her pussy.
My little brat makes the most hauntingly delicious noises when she’s getting fucked. It makes a man want to stay trapped in her tight cunt for an eternity.
But I’m not there to wake her. Well, not for that. I need to run into Mayfield and I don’t want to leave without telling her.
Fuck if I know why.
It’s not like she’ll notice, maybe. She might and I don’t want her thinking I just left.
Again, fuck if I know why.
We never gave whatever this thing between us is a name so I don’t know the parameters of what to do and not to do. I don’t even know if she wants me to stay after we leave the house. This might just be a fun weekend of experimentation for her, which I’m going to try to respect.
Lies.
I will absolutely not fucking accept weekends and the occasional visit. She’s not a fucking booty call. She’s not some side piece I keep in between relationships. I don’t even want another woman.
Mira or nothing.
She’s fucking mine now.
The second our eyes met that first night, the second Daniel dropped her into my lap — mine.
My brat.
She’s going to be mine for the rest of her life, like it or not.
Too fucking bad if she doesn’t.
She’s the one who crawled under my skin. I didn’t ask her to. I didn’t tell her to get inside my head.
So, if she can invade my life, so can I.