Page 77 of Tamed

“Not now,” he said, since clearly, he could read every thought in my head. “Sit right back on the couch.”

I swallowed and did what he said, watching as he bent to grab his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He took a condom out of it then went about the business of sheathing himself. As before, when I’d watched him do it in Arcadia, I found it unbearably erotic, my breath catching as he rolled the latex down over his cock.

The sound made one corner of his mouth turn up. “Next time, I might let you do the honors.” He dropped his hand and came over to the couch, standing there and looking down at me. “Spread your legs, little girl. Let me see that sweet pussy.”

I did as I was told, shivering at the feeling of exposure and the slight stretch of my tender flesh. “I thought—”

“I know what you thought. But I need to take the edge off first.” He knelt on the cushions directly in front of me, his hands sliding beneath my thighs, lifting my hips. “Hold on, Isabel. Daddy’s going to fuck you hard and rough.”

I hardly had a moment to draw breath before his hands tightened almost painfully on my hips and he thrust into me, hard and deep.

I gasped, arching against the back of the couch, feeling the delicious stretch and burn as he pushed deeper. Then he pinned me there, his hard chest pressed to my tender breasts, the delicious heat of his bare skin against mine, and let go of my hips, one hand winding in my hair to pull my head back so he could take my mouth, the other gripping the back of the couch.

Then he began to fuck me, and he’d promised, he was indeed hard and rough, his mouth savage on mine, the flex of his hips relentless, driving me into the couch. I was held there, sandwiched between the leather back and his powerful body, unable to move, unable to escape the driving thrust of his cock.

I panted as the pleasure began to build, thrilled at the power of him, because he wasn’t holding back, and I loved it. I wanted more. I lifted my hands to grip his shoulders, my nails digging in as I tried to move with him, flexing my hips to get more friction and shuddering as he devoured my mouth.

He drove deeper, a growl of masculine satisfaction escaping him, winding my pleasure tighter, making me dig my nails in harder and nip him, desperate for more.

The only sound in the room was our ragged gasps and the slap of his flesh on mine, getting faster and faster. Then he let go of my hair, both his hands gripping the back of the couch, using it as leverage to fuck me even harder, rougher. I arched and twisted, desperate for more of the relentless pleasure he was building. But then he turned his head and bit the side of my neck, giving one last, deep thrust before he stiffened, a deep growl of release escaping him.

For a second he remained still, gripping onto the couch, with me pinned between him and the leather, then slowly he released the it and drew back, pulling out of me, making me gasp.

I was shaking, the ache between my legs throbbing. “But I…I need….” I whispered helplessly. “D-Daddy…please…”

His gaze was black, glittering, the expression on his face still taut despite his release. “That was for me,” he said roughly. “You don’t get to come yet, little girl. I want you hungry, understand?”

I didn’t, but I knew better than to question him. “Yes, Daddy.”

He nodded then got off the couch. “Now, lie down on your front. I’m going to get a couple of things and I don’t want you to move until I get back.”

My mouth was dry, the ache between my legs too intense to ignore. It wouldn’t take much to get me off, all he’d to do was brush his fingers over my clit and I’d be gone. Especially when I could still feel him inside me and the hot slide of his skin against mine…

“And don’t even think about touching yourself,” he went on, reading every single one of my thoughts. “If I come back to find you’ve given yourself an orgasm without my permission, there’ll be trouble. Are we clear?”

I bit down on my instinctive protests, wanting to be good for him. “Yes, Daddy,” I said before obediently, before lying down on the warm leather, my heartbeat racing.

He left the room and took his time, the bastard. I lay there silently, my brain ticking over, the cool air moving over my bare skin, making me aware of my nakedness and the burgeoning ache between my legs.

He wanted me hungry, he’d said. But why? When I was always hungry for him?

Waiting had never been my strong point, especially with the flavor of scotch and him heavy in my mouth, and the feel of his cock stretching my sex, and I was starting to get tense and restless, when I was jolted by the brush of soft fingertips down my spine.

My breath caught hard in my throat, and I froze. I hadn’t heard him come back into the living room.

He didn’t say anything, but the light touch shifted to the top of my spine, resting there briefly, and then it was gone. My chest tightened at the loss. “Daddy?” I said, the heavy sound of the word reassuring in a way I couldn’t have articulated.

“Yes,” he murmured. “And I see you kept your hands to yourself.” His touch was back, his fingers trailing down my spine, soothing me, easing the tightness in my muscles even as it made the throb between my thighs more insistent. “Good girl.” His fingers stroked over the curve of my butt. “You waited very patiently. Now, relax for me.”

The restlessness vanished, a weird sense of calm hitting me as his fingers continued to stroke me, down the backs of my thighs and between, brushing tantalizingly near my aching clit. I shuddered, wanting to press myself into his hand, but I stopped myself, hanging on to my patience, because I knew he wouldn’t like it.

He moved again, and I felt the cushions dip as he got onto the couch behind me. Instinctively I shifted, but his hand landed heavily at the small of my back, pressing me down. “No. Keep still.”

I tried to calm myself. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. Now, open your mouth.”

“What? But I—”

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