Page 10

RHAIM

L ia made my belt buckle start jingling right after that, and I groaned. She placed a hand on my heart, and took me at my word, pulling herself up before falling back down, again and again.

“Good girl,” I said, drawing out the words, knowing precisely the effect saying them would have on her. “Go harder, Lia. Daddy knows what’s best.”

I watched her eyes just about roll back in her head as she did as she was told, her small breasts bouncing, her hair breaking free from everything she’d pinned or sprayed it with tonight.

The sounds between us were so wet they were juicy and I didn’t think my dick had ever been in such a tight, accommodating home.

I had to grit my teeth and growl to keep myself from touching her much, because me coming wasn’t the point of this—I wanted us fucking to drive her insane.

So insane that she would never leave me.

So insane that she would remember this moment for the rest of her life.

She started a high pitched whine, and then leaned forward, her torso stilling as her hips beat against mine, chasing her orgasm down.

She looked back at herself, at her bobbing ass—an ass I wanted to mark with all my soul—and then back at me, her eyes wide, like she couldn’t believe what was happening.

Like a cat pet too much, I couldn’t take it anymore—I reached back and slapped it, leaving a bright red handprint behind.

“Rhaim!” she protested—without dropping a beat.

“What?” I asked, feigning innocence. “Get it,” I growled—and she whined again, doing just that—as I smacked her again, this time on the other cheek, so her ass had a matched set.

She cried out, and then gave me a furious look—which only somehow made me fucking harder.

“Keep going,” I demanded.

“I’m so fucking close Rhaim—” she snarled. “So stop that!” she said—but before she finished the last word, I’d spanked her again. “Rhaim!”

“I’m not stopping till you come. I need to feel your pussy clamp my dick to hold on—so hurry the fuck up already,” I told her, smacking her again.

“You fucker ,” she complained bitterly—while still riding, so it was literal, which made me give an evil laugh.

“That’s why you love me. ‘Cause somebody needs to own your pussy, little girl,” I said, encircling her waist with my hands, so I could shove her down while I thrust up. “And that somebody is me.”

All of her feistiness flowed out of her body—almost like it was flowing into mine.

“Let me come—let-me-come-please,” she repeated, over and over, like a prayer.

“Please-let-me-come—” and for a second I was worried I’d edged her until she couldn’t take anymore, until she inhaled with a gasp of surprise.

“Oh fuck, Rhaim—Daddy—oh fuck—I’m coming!

” she shrieked—but she didn’t need to tell me, because right before she started I felt her pussy squeeze.

“Oh— fuck — yes —” I snarled, pulling her on and off of me, using her cunt like a fleshlight as she kept screaming.

“Yeah—fuck—fuck—take it—fuck—” and then it was my turn with a moan from my soul pulling into a shout.

“Goddamn,” I growled, still using her, as she started to sag forward, like she’d lost all her bones.

“You and your fucking tight pussy,” I growled like a complaint as I thrust into her one last time, feeling my balls pulse, knowing that she was fucking full of me for the second time in the night.

“Oh God,” she whispered, sprawled out on top of me, breathing hard, and I kissed a line across the top of her head.

If God wanted to prove his existence to me at this stage in my life, after everything I’d done, and after everything that’d happened to me—he only had two options.

One, he could kill Senator St. Clair for me, in some public, biblical way. I’d accept his car being shoved off the road by a flash flood, or him being struck by lightning.

Or two, he could miraculously heal the scars in my sack that kept my swimmers from her ovaries—because I would also accept somehow knocking Lia Ferreo up.

Barring either of those events though—the only God in this room currently was me.

“You okay?” I asked her, kissing her hair again, feeling her chin nod into my chest.

“Yeah,” she said, tilting her head up to look at me. “Want to hear something potentially kind of sad?”

“From you?” I asked, taking one of her wrists up to kiss again, running my tongue against the shallow scars she’d given herself, fighting her demons.

Hopefully now that she had a demon to fight for her she’d stop.

“Of course,” I went on.

She gave me a tight smile, then looked away. “I’ve never been on top before.”

“You’re kidding.” The words were out of my mouth in an instant—and I could feel how they deflated her, as she tensed on top of me.

“Not making fun of you, little moth,” I quickly clarified, kissing her tattoo carefully.

“It’s just that after the last fifteen minutes, you could’ve fooled me. You like it?” I asked.

Her smile was more earnest and she nodded. “Yeah.”

I pulled her up so I could bring her mouth to meet mine, feeling myself slide out of her, and a warm gush of what I’d left inside her on my stomach, as we traded a kiss back and forth for what felt like a welcome eternity, until she lifted her head to beam down at me.

“Then it’s settled,” I said. “We’ll do it again sometime. ”