Page 93 of A Pawn in the Game
Her pussy clenches, and my orgasm becomes impossible to hold off. Her wet, tight heat was a delicious torture on its own, especially after reddening her perfect ass, but the as she pulses around my cock, my release crashes into me.
I close my eyes while she milks me dry, my muscles contracting of their own volition. My hands give out and I drop to her back, our breaths racing in sync. Her skin is prickled and covered in a shiny layer of sweat. My tongue darts out to land a long, featherlight lick to her spine and she shivers.
Finally, I force myself to exit her, my now flaccid dick mourning the loss. I move her hair to the side and unclasp the ball gag. She lets out a relieved breath.
“Are you hurting?” I ask as she flexes her jaw to regain movement.
She replies with an undiscernible “unnn,” but I know her enough to know it means no. Carefully, I unshackle her wrists, then ankles. Still, she doesn’t move. Her ass is crimson, angry looking bruises forming in front of my eyes.
Hissing, I trail my finger over it. She lets out a silent gasp.I need to take care of her. From the adjoining bathroom, I grab a small towel, wet it with warm water, and cleanmy cum off her thighs. Next up is searching the drawers for a lotion. Thankfully, the third one I open contains a bottle of aloe vera gel. I apply it generously on the skin of her ass, careful not to put unnecessary pressure. She’s putty in my hands as I lift her, placing her gently on her side.
Her face is wet with tears and the sight of it pierces my chest. I know it’s an inevitable part of this experience. Of the pain and the punishment. I know it’s healing for her; she told me as much. But I still fucking hate to see her cry. Grabbing another towel, I wipe the tears off her face.
My eyes travel the room, searching for more blankets to make her comfortable. I wrap her in a cocoon, leaving just enough room for me to slip in behind her. Our bodies fit together as if the two of us used to be one. As if we’re two pieces of a whole.
“You’re perfect. So fucking perfect for me.” On a shaky breath, I caress her arm and thigh, whispering praise into her ear. “Your pain belongs to me,mila. I’m the only one allowed to cause it. If anyone else does, I’ll make sure pain is the last thing they feel. Whoever they might be.” Her breath hitches.
“What about my dad?” she whispers, barely audible. “What about your revenge?”
“I don’t care about revenge anymore.” I shake my head, though she can’t see it.
I wasn’t exaggerating. Anyone who dares cause her harm is as good as dead. Including my people. Including her father.
“I think I’d like to find him,” she says.
“Ok,mila. We’ll find him.”
I praise her more, not stopping when I notice her breath deepening with sleep.
I’ll find him if she wants me to. I’ll kill him if she wants me to. But becauseshewants me to, not because I do.
I glance at the tattoo I have on my chest. The one I got after Father died. In my mind, this journey was about seeking revenge. I found something else. Something he would value much more. Love.
It’s what he would want for me, isn’t it? Not to be fueled by hate, but to be driven by love. It’s what he did. Everything he did, he did for Leon and me. Before that, for his wife.
And as I burrow my face into Sophie’s hair, breathing her distinct scent, there’s no doubt in my mind she is to me what Mother was to him.
I have no idea how much time passes before I drift off to sleep. But I do know Sophie sleeps through the night, unbothered by nightmares, safe in my arms.
Aknock sounds at the door, rousing me from the best night’s sleep I had in years. Taking a blanket to cover myself, I open the door, finding Kyle on the other side. He swallows nervously before plastering a smile on his face.
“We will arrive shortly. I can prepare some breakfast for you, but you should be buckled in your seat in the next fifteen minutes.”
“Hmm,” I grunt in response, closing the door in his face.
My lips brush Sophie’s forehead lightly. “Time to wake up, sleepyhead.”
Still deep in sleep, she turns her back to me, wrapping the blanket even tighter around herself. I let out a chuckle.
“Mila, we need to get up. We’ll be landing soon.”
She lets out a groan, obviously not thrilled with the idea. “Where are we landing, anyway?”
“You’ll see,” I respond, my lips turning up. “You have five minutes to get up. Otherwise, I’m spanking you again.”
“Alright,” she groans. “But only because I’m too sore for another spanking.”
Still chuckling, I take a quick shower in the small but luxurious bathroom. I exit with a towel wrapped around my waist and her gaze turns hungry as she studies the planes of my chest.
