Page 74 of The Merciless Don's Bride

She’s still wet.

I slip two fingers inside her, slow and deep.

She stirs with a soft gasp, hips tilting into my hand. Her eyes flutter open, heavy-lidded, lips parting.

And then—without a word—she climbs on top of me.

Grabs my cock.

And sinks down on it with a broken moan.

Fuck.

I grip her hips hard, watching her ride me like she needs to make up for the hours we slept.

Her hair falls around her face. Her tits bounce with every grind. She’s panting, dragging her nails down my chest.

And then she leans in—lips at my ear—and says it:

“Damien… I’ve been yours for years.”

Something snaps in me.

I growl low in my throat, grab her ass with both hands, and drive up into her, meeting every grind with brutal thrusts of my own.

“You’re goddamn right you have,” I growl. “And I’m never letting you go.”

Her movements are slow, and cautious like she’s afraid to fully sit on my cock which is already fully enlarged.

I climb over her again, letting the head of my cock press against her soaked entrance.

“You sure you’re ready for me to have you again,bella?” I ask, dragging the tip through her folds, teasing her clit one more time.

“Yes, Daddy,” she moans.

I push in, just the tip—slow, aching—and then pause.

“Eyes on me.” She lifts her gaze.

“Look at me,” I growl, grabbing her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes.

She blinks, caught off guard. “Watch me make love to you.”

There’s a flicker of surprise, maybe even fear. But not the kind that makes her pull away. No. It’s the kind that roots her in place. The kind that means she feels it too.

She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to. I see it in her eyes—the surrender, the ache, the silence, and I know, she’s mine. All of her.

“Damien, Fuck me hard.”

“Say please,” I state teasing her center with my cock.

Her eyes heat even more when I press it against her without pushing in. They glide over her wetness with my pulsing hard cock.

“You’re going to make me beg?” she questions, biting down on her bottom lip.

And yeah, that does it. I flip her over, pressing my palm to the small of her back, making her go lower. She melts into themattress, breath catching when I drag my hand over the curve of her hip.

“Stay still,” I murmur, voice thick with control. “You move over without permission, I start over. Okay?”

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