Page 123 of The Vigilant
“Yes, Daddy,” she panted, her small frame rocking from the force of my thrusts, her hands clawing at the back of my head for more. “Oh, yes.”
“Never letting you go, little wasp. You’re all mine,” I said raggedly. “Especially this tiny wet cunt. Fuck…” I swore, feeling how her body responded to the words, gushing around me.
I lost the rest of my mind then, replacing the images from earlier with this. The feel of her softness under me. Her tight heat gripping the life out of my cock. Her unsteady breaths rushing against my cheek.And knowing she was mine.
“Please,” she choked out. “Oh god…”
“Who?”
“Daddy,” she panted, throwing her head back and bowing toward me like she couldn’t get enough. “You, Daddy. Please.”
Fuck.
I reared up and grabbed the tops of her thighs, holding them wide so I could shunt deeper inside her. For several perfect seconds, I knew nothing but the sound of her straining cries and the sight of my pierced cock disappearing inside her wet cunt. Bar after bar after bar.
And then I felt her coming. The ripples of her pussy around my length. The desperate stiffening of her muscles. The tip of her eyes back into her head.
Growling, I slid my hand between us, taking the swollen bud of her clit and pinching it hard just as her orgasm started, adding fuel to the fire.
She screamed, convulsing underneath me. Her back arched and her hips clamored to take more of my cock. With a roar, I gave it to her. I picked up my pace, shunting through the deadly clench of her cunt until I was so deep, it made her breath catch each time I knocked against her womb.Mine.And then my cock erupted.
I stayed like that for long minutes, filling her with the heat of my release until the utter exhaustion from the fear and frustration from earlier hit me tenfold. Rolling to the side, I pulled her with me, keeping her on top of me, her head to my chest, and just held her.
“I love you.”
She didn’t say anything for a beat. “What does that mean?”
My throat tightened. It shouldn’t have been a surprise since there was no one in her life who’d ever given her a good example of what that meant. Not really.
“It means, little wasp, when you risk your life, you risk mine, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sutton
“Where is the girl? Where is Mara Chen?”
I winced, my nails nicking the skin of my palm. I forced my fingers apart, catching the dashes of blood that held my secret frustration at the interrogation.
Creed messaged Tynan half an hour ago that the Straw Sandal had finally woken up, and we could question him.
I didn’t ask if I could come, and Tynan didn’t make a move to stop me.
We’d entered the garage to find Creed, his hips resting against the side of his bike, staring at the gagged prisoner bound to a chair in the center of the square on the floor marked six.
An impressive string of Chinese curses erupted from the Straw Sandal when Tynan ripped the duct tape off his mouth. But after that, there wasn’t much else that they’d gotten out of him.
“You will regret this,” the middle-aged Asian man snarled, a trail of dried blood still hanging from the corner of his mouth like a fishing hook had been ripped right through his cheek.
Creed looked to Tynan. I watched his jaw pulse once before he stalked right up to the chair and nailed the Straw Sandal across the face again. Not hard enough to knock him out again, but hard enough to make a point.
The man’s head snapped to the side with another curse.
“Killing you will be the least of my regrets,” Tynan said so flatly—his voice so entirely bereft of emotion, I was momentarily stunned. A moment that quickly passed as a wave of desire crashed over me.
He was doing this for me. Not just protecting me, but fighting for me. With me. He stepped into this battle not with a half-assed promise to help but with bloody knuckles and murder in his eyes, willing to kill to get the information we needed and bear whatever consequences would remain.
Because he loved me.
