Page 17

The wet drag of his piercing over my clit sends a jolt so sharp through me I cry out, hand flying to my mouth, but he pulls it away.

“Don’t hide from me,” he says, voice dark, thick with lust. He palms my boob, pinching my nipple between his fingers, and I’m unable to choke down a moan. “I want to hear every sound you make.”

“But everyone’s sleeping.”

“Fuck it. Wake them up.” He sucks harder, tongue circling, teasing, then flattening with just the right pressure.

“Let them know how many times I can make you shatter.” His mouth is heat and hunger, lapping at me slow and deep with that wicked fucking tongue, and when I buck against him, he groans like he’s the one getting off.

My legs tremble on either side of his head, toes curling into the sheets. I try to speak, try to warn him again—I think I hear something, a soft shuffle just by the window where the shadows stretch long and black—but the words melt into moans.

He owns my thoughts.

I can’t focus. I can’t think.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, gripping the edge of the bed. “Fuck, Daddy! What are you doing to me?”

He laughs, low and dangerous, breath hot against me. “Worshipping.” His hand wraps around my throat as he keep his lips around my pulsing clit, sucking and flicking his tongue fast.

I don’t stand a chance.

I break.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, and I feel myself tip over the edge, clenching, crying out, thighs clamping around his head as he groans like he likes it when I lose control.

But he’s not done.

His mouth shifts lower, and his tongue sinks inside me as he drinks me in. He can feel each contraction of my pussy, each wave of pleasure stirring more arousal filling his mouth. His tongue is long… too long… I feel it slithering inside me, curling, thrusting…

Or maybe my head is dizzy. His hand tightens around my throat, slowly cutting off the air flow. But it’s the sweetest torture.

I can’t stop moaning. I come again, faster this time, my walls squeezing around his tongue, a violent shudder racing through me like I’m going to fall apart.

His grip loosens around my neck, then he brushes his finger over my trembling lips. I suck his fingers into my mouth and he moans into me. I flick my tongue suggestively, the way I’d do against his shaft, coating it in my saliva.

“Where’s your shyness now?” he mocks me, straightening his back, lifting his mouth off of my hypersensitive pussy and dragging his hand away.

Before I get a chance to inhale, though, he already slides one thick finger inside me, curving just right, then a second one joins. I jerk against him, overstimulated, too much, too soon—but damn it, I need it.

“You’re so tight, Bunny,” he murmurs against my thigh, nipping at my skin, still teasing. “Mmmm, bet that sweet little cunt would take my cock like a dream.”

My hips roll, helpless, aching. His fingers begin to move, sliding in and out, down to his base knuckles. I can feel the cool metal of his rings dragging along my inner walls, the friction making me clench tighter.

“Yeah? You like the sound of that, don’t you?

” His fingers thrust faster, hitting my G-spot at the perfect angle, and obscene squishy noises fill the room as my muscles flutter around him.

“That’s it, let me open you up. You know how badly you want to.

Needy girl… just listen to the way your body unravels for me. ”

I come again with a shudder, crying out into the dark, my juices gushing over his hand.

He doesn’t stop.

He lifts my legs over his shoulders, tilting my hips, and exposing my ass. I feel his slick fingers probing lower, circling my other hole, slow and deliberate.

My breath catches. “Ghost—”

“Shh,” he whispers, “just feeling you. Just touching what’s mine.”

He doesn’t push in, only taunts, letting me feel the threat of it, the possibility.

His breathing is heavy as he holds me open and dips his head, his pierced tongue flicking out to lap at the tight entrance.

He lingers there, teasing with slow, deliberate strokes—testing, savoring—before pulling back just to hear me whimper for more.

And then, he’s back on my pussy, his mouth devouring every last drop of my arousal, his fingers entering me over and over again, pumping fast and deep. The pressure, the rhythm—it’s too much.

My release covers my thighs, and the pleasure seems to never stop. Somewhere, in the corner of my eye, the shadows move again. I swear they do. But I can’t scream. Can’t even speak. Can’t do anything but take what he’s giving me. My body’s a live wire, and every nerve is tuned to him.

His voice fills my head. “Eyes on me, Bunny. No one else. Just me.”

His tongue is definitely too long. It moves inside me like it has a mind of its own, sliding against my walls in an unnatural way.

But it feels good— too fucking good . I shiver, trying to ignore that part of me telling me something’s wrong.

The rest of me wants nothing more than to get lost in the sensation forever, to let him take full control and never release me.

He pulls back slightly, breath ragged, and his eyes flicker over my body—just enough to make me feel exposed, like I’m being consumed. And there’s that glint again in them.

His voice is even lower now, practically a growl. “You feel that, don’t you? The way your body responds to me? You’ve been thinking about this for months. Don’t deny it.”

I try to breathe, try to get my bearings, but everything about him feels like a magnet, pulling me in, drawing me closer. His hand moves to my waist, gripping it so tightly I can’t help but flinch, but the sharpness of it feels almost exciting.

“Whose pussy is this?” he demands.

I giggle weakly. “Mine.”

The slap comes unexpectedly. His open palm lands on my swollen folds with a wet smack. It’s not hard, just shocking, sending electric aftershocks through my core.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours,” I whisper, too intoxicated with him to argue.

“That’s damn right. You fucking belong to me, do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He crawls up my body, planting wet kisses on my belly, then higher, across the underside of my breasts.

When he takes one nipple into his mouth and sucks, hard and greedy, I cry out, back arching, offering him more.

His mouth moves slowly, lips gliding up my throat in a molten path that makes my skin tingle.

Then, he bites.

Not hard enough to hurt—but firm enough to claim. My breath catches, hands clutching at his solid pecs, nails digging in. He lingers over the stinging spot, tongue flicking out, soothing it with a tender kiss that only makes the heat bloom deeper.

I just know he’s left a mark. A warning. A promise. A fucking brand.

And I want it.

His sweatpants rub against the burning heat between my legs—rough, soft, warm—and I drape my legs over his waist. His face hovers above mine now, his silver chain dangling in the space between us in the slow tempo of his rocking hips.

“Now, was it that scary?” he asks, pressing his lips to mine and kissing me deeply, letting me taste myself on his tongue.

He’s not talking about the shadows or weird noises. He’s talking about us . What I confessed on the porch. How him being a Dom freaks me out.

“No,” I respond honestly, though I know he’s taking it easy with me. “But this is…” I reach down.

His cock is hard, thick, and throbbing through the fabric. And he’s so big, I have no idea how it can possibly even fit.

He chuckles raspily. “See what you’re doing to me?”

I slip my hand beneath the waistband and find velvety skin, hot and slick with precum and little metal bumps of his piercings running along the underside. I wrap my hand around his girth, jerking him slowly as my thumb flicks the hoop ring, collecting more moisture leaking from the tip.

“Fuck!” he groans into my chest, his hips twitching against my palm, and I almost come again just hearing him lose control.

I smile through my daze, but then—

BANG.

A loud crash. Hard. Right against the window.

I freeze with my hand still around his cock. There was no sound of glass breaking. But I’m terrified to look, half-expecting to see the huge, hulking figure standing next to the bed.

“Shhh.” His fingers slide between my legs again, slow and experienced, already drenched in my juices. “You’re wetter now,” he says with dark delight. “Scared little bunny. Your body loves it, doesn’t it?”

I whimper as he presses deep. I shouldn’t be turned on. I should be running. Screaming. Calling for help. But his hands, his mouth, his voice—it all drags me back down into him.

“I’m the only thing here,” he murmurs, kissing me again. Deep. Possessive. “Nothing else matters. You understand?”

I nod, dazed, trembling. His fingers move, stroking slow and sinful, and something in me breaks open. The fear… doesn’t vanish, but it twists. Turns into heat. Into obedience.

“You’re safe,” he lies against my mouth, “just sleep now.”

I don’t mean to close my eyes. My eyelids feel so heavy, though. And I do.

But I swear, right before I fall under, I hear that cryptid whispering.