Page 21 of Owned In Misty Mountain

Deeper.

Slamming into her like I’m trying to fuck the thought of anyone else out of her body.

“You like being used by daddy?”

“Yes—yes, daddy—”

“Good. Because I’m not done.”

I pull out and flip her on her stomach.

Yank her hips up.

Then I push in again—rougher, rawer.

Deeper.

She sobs into the pillow.

And I lose it.

“You’re gonna come for me,” I growl, slamming into her from behind. “Then you’re gonna clean me up with that pretty mouth.”

And she does.

God, she does.

I spill inside her, hot and thick, hips jerking with the force of it.

And she shudders under me, coming with a cry so wrecked it echoes in my soul.

—-

I pull out slowly, and she whimpers at the loss.

Then I cup her chin and nudge her toward my cock.

“You remember how I said you were gonna suck me off after?”

She nods, wrecked and already sliding down the bed.

I sit up, cock still hard and leaking.

And when she wraps those soft lips around me—eyes glassy,cheeks hollowing out—I lose my fucking mind.

She gags. Cries a little.

And keeps going.

And I let her.

Because she’s mine.

By the time I come again, she’s on her knees, drool running down her chin, and I’m gripping her hair like a man possessed.

I wipe her mouth gently when it’s over.

Pull her back into bed.

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