Page 60 of Destined for the Devil
Roman
Ididn'texpectanyof this tonight. None of it was planned, but when Isla looked at me with those pleading eyes and asked in that angelic voice, fuck, I was ready to doanything.
I thought we’d end the night at Cartier or Tiffany’s. I was going to ask her to pick a ring, or at the very least, a design she liked so I could custom order it. That was my idea of showing her how much I loved her. Yeah, I was about ninety-nine percent sure it would completely freak her out, but there was always that one percent chance it could turn into the best night of my life.
The best night of my life would be when Isla says yes to my marriage proposal, but tonight held that spot until then.
She wanted a tattoo ofmy name.I repeated it to myself so I could believe it. My girl wanted to mark her skin—forever—with my name. There was nothing sweeter, nothing better, nothing comparable to being with her.
Was I a fucking BDSM aficionado? No. But I knew what I was doing, and anything my girl wanted—she would get. I had a strong hunch that this was all new to Isla. I doubted good guy Thomas had any fucking clue how to tie a knot around anyone's wrists, but I was more than experienced.
Watching Isla submit herself like that awakened something untamed inside me. This was on another level than what we’d engaged inpreviously. Her moans, her gasps, her pure eyes when I praised her, the way she shivered under my touch…it all sent waves of rapture through me.
And the way she took my cock down her throat, so obedient—fuck,I was mesmerized. My suspicions were confirmed: Isla did tolerate pain exceptionally well. Just like the first days I spent with her, she endured it without question.
And I’d give her the world—on her knees, in my bed, or with my last name attached to her name.
My cock throbbed with every strike against her plump asscheeks, and resisting the urge to take her right then and there was agony, like a cruel exercise in abstinence.
I brought it to twenty, admiring her flushed skin—an artwork of pain and pleasure. God, I wanted to drown in her. Take her, fuck her, own her, feel her tremble against me. I knew she would take it all.
Gently, I pushed her down onto her stomach, and she sighed, her body still shaking. Isla was a true beauty, and she awakened every corner of my imagination. Her curves were pure temptation. Her buttcheeks were round,perfect—so satisfying to bite. She did have an amazing ass, and she knew it.
All of her skin was smooth and unblemished except for those scars on the backs of her thighs. I always avoided putting any pressure on her recent injuries, opting to give her sweet caresses instead.
Years of dance practice were clearly visible in the immaculate curve of her spine, and those dimples on her lower back were made for my lips and tongue.
I let her rest beneath me, her body in full surrender, and it hit me like a tsunami wave—she trusted me fully. Somehow that felt like a true honor, an achievement. I would protect that trust with my life. I would never break it.
Beads of sweat collected along her back, and I wanted to lick it off. All of her was mine—her sweat, her tears, and her sweet pussy. Instead, I lay down on top of her, gluing my skin to hers.
“You’ve been such a good girl for me.” My thumb grazed her plump bottom lip as I watched her facial expression, the faint trace of a smile always there.
"Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, relaxing beneath me.
"You want Daddy to fuck you...don't you?" I grinded against her, forcing the most heavenly moan out of her beautiful mouth. Her messy hair was still tangled up in my grasp, and I pulled again, listening to her voice. "Tell Daddy how much you want it."
"Please Daddy..." She paused to catch her breath. "Please fuck me, Daddy. H-hard. You know how I like it,” she begged, absolutely fucking desperately.
Perfect.She was perfect.
"Mm…Angel. Look at you.” Because the sight was a fucking gift from God. “So desperate to be fucked. To be owned. To beused. But Daddy wants to play." A little smirk tugged at my lips from my own words, and Isla’s body went into action, rubbing against me and asking for a release from the denial I was serving her.
Still bound, she panted. “No Daddy, please,pleasejust fuck me." Her pleas inked themselves into my brain. This was so good, so satisfying, such a fucking turn-on. Not giving her what she wanted, I straddled her, trapping her body underneath me so she could barely move.
I reached over her head and untied her wrists, letting her take a deep breath in, but before she even had a chance to lower her arms, I did it for her. Isla was absolutely no match for my strength, and with little effort, I clasped her hands behind her back, tying them in the same loop.
"Daddy!" she whined and writhed beneath me. I tightened the bind. "Please! Let me feel you too!" she begged, her face now pressed into thebed.
I lifted up her hips to me, her glistening pink pussy at my mercy. I licked, my tongue dragging on all of her, tasting the most divine woman. But then I realized the truth—Iwas at the mercy of this pussy.
“Ah, fuuuuuuck!”
Yes, baby, scream for me just like that.
I wanted more. My tongue kept traveling up, running right over her tight little asshole, eliciting a much louder reaction. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Da…ddy!” I pressed my finger just there, her hips begging for more.
Yes, I knew she would like that.
