Page 87 of Seek Me Darling

I do love her.

Not the sweet, forgiving kind. Not the kind that builds houses or reads poetry.

No. Mine is the kind of love that chains itself to her soul and whispers in the dark.

The kind that watches her sleep like a goddamn altar and takes pictures. That breathes in the scent of her skin, counts every eyelash, and imagines the sounds she’ll make when she finally lets herself be ours, fully and without fear.

And now that she’s here?

I don’t ever want to let her go.

Even if she hates me for it. Even if she tries to run again.

Because obsession this deep doesn’t fade.

And whether she knows it yet or not—Seanna Darling belongs to us.

She always has.

She paired her oversized shirt with a pair of panties, as though that could form some sort of shield between her and me.

It can’t.

Her defiance is beautiful, but futile.

I rise from the armchair in the corner, every step toward her a deliberate surrender to obsession. Even if she hates us right now, she can’t erase what she told us. What she admitted in that thick moment of weakness, when words filled with need spilled from her lips like confession.

She told us her fantasy. She confessed it like it would never come back to bite her. Like admitting it out loud didn’t make it real.

To be taken. In sleep. No pretense. No permission.

And now? Now she’s asleep in one of those shirts like a lamb in its own soft wool, dreaming she’s safe.

She isn’t.

The sheets are low, the shirt barely covering her thighs. I drag it down gently, revealing the pale curves of her hips, the band of her panties thin against her skin. I spread her thighs and kneel between them, sliding the panties aside. Not off. Just enough to bare her. Just enough to remind her body it belongs to me before her mind even wakes.

My cock is already hard. Has been since I stepped in the room. Since I saw her curled up like a gift she doesn’t remember wrapping. The two steel barbells piercing the head throb with every beat of my pulse, a subtle weight and pressure I’ve learned to savor. I grip myself, line up, and push in.

The piercings drag across her entrance, the sensation sharp and perfect, her slick heat clutching around me like a fist. She doesn’t wake. Not yet.

She sighs in her sleep, body instinctively parting for me. Like she knows, like her body knows, even in her sleep.

I move in her, slow and steady, dragging my cock out just enough to feel the barbells catch and pull before sinking back in with a groan. Again. And again. A handful of careful, measured thrusts—each one a claim, each one coaxing her body deeper into instinct before consciousness catches up. The steel piercings press against her walls in all the right places, making my restraint fray at the edges. I fuck her slowly, deeply, the barbells tugging just enough to drive me insane. Every drag out makes her walls twitch. Every push back in forces them deeper.

She's so tight around me, her body still mostly slack with sleep even as I move inside her. Each thrust is a revelation, a dark promise. My obsessive thoughts spiral as I fuck into her slowly, savoring every clench of her walls. She has no idea what we've done. That she is completely unprotected now, ripe and ready.

The knowledge makes me throb harder inside her, a primal surge of possessive need. I want to fill her up, paint her insides with my cum until it takes root. Until she's swollen with my child. The fantasy consumes me as I roll my hips, burying myself as deep as I can go.

My thrusts become slightly harder, more deliberate. Each push drives me deeper, the steel piercings dragging against her most sensitive spots. Her body responds instinctively, even in sleep—muscles clenching, hips shifting subtly to take me deeper.

A soft moan escapes her lips and she begins to stir, consciousness seeping back in. Her brow furrows in sleepy confusion, body tensing slightly beneath mine.

Her breath starts to shift. The rhythm changes. Her fingers twitch.

She wakes as a cry of pleasure leaves her beautiful lips, with me buried deep inside her.

Her body tenses as consciousness floods back, her muscles instinctively clenching around me. The moment she realizes she's being fucked, a soft protest rises in her throat.

---