Page 18

Chapter Eighteen

Tynan

I t was a sad fucking state to be more worried about my fucking hard-on than the stab wound in my side.

I flipped the nozzle to pure cold even though I didn’t hold out hope that it would help. I’d been doing cold plunges every morning for years, so my body no longer registered freezing water as punishment but as an awakening.

And fuck, were parts of me very fucking awakened right now.

At the very least, maybe the cold would keep my skin from smoking the way attraction fumed through my veins.

The way Sutton looked up at me with those big blue eyes, her full lips parted so fucking perfect as I held her by the throat…I didn’t need to know the whole of her story to know I’d never meet a woman more fucking strong and wild and resilient than Sutton fucking Brant. And to have that kind of woman allow a hand on her throat with nothing but lust in her eyes…

Let me take care of you.

I shuddered and gripped the edge of the bathroom counter. I bent forward and closed my eyes, only to be assaulted with the memory of her underneath me. Her scorpion-stained skin writhing with every crack of my palm on her ass. And then the whimpers…the sounds of pure submission as she begged me for release…

“Fuck.” I shoved back and reached for the waist of my sweats. She had to be done—gone from the cabin by now. Unfortunately, I didn’t trust myself in this state to check.

A hiss blew through my lips when my sweats snagged on the ends of the piercings lining my cock. I stretched the waistband forward roughly, fairly certain I damaged the elastic in the process.

I didn’t know what was worse: knowing that she’d been sleeping in my bed since the attack or that that bed had only been a couple of feet away from where I’d been lying. No, the worst was that I’d still demanded she stay.

I stepped into the cold stream, the water exploding off my skin like popcorn kernels into spitting oil. The icy spray pelted me until the only thing I should’ve felt was numb. Instead, it was the magma pumping through my veins that took center stage.

Two weeks. The date Mara sent Rob was two weeks from now. Two weeks that I’d have to spend here, in close quarters with Sutton.

Fuck, I wasn’t going to survive. Not without some relief.

My exhale carried with it all the weight of resignation as I braced my left hand on the side of the shower and, with the other, fisted my erection, the metal of my piercings hot as I began to stroke.

The groan that erupted from my chest was like the molten spring of lava finally breaking through the rock-solid crust of the earth.

God, I needed release. The memories of that night—of my fingers in her cunt—were hard enough to keep at bay, but the way she’d taken care of me the last two days…I watched her when she thought I was sleeping. I watched her read my books and patch my jacket. I tortured myself by letting her change my bandage. I savored the way she’d cooked for me tonight even though she hated it.

She wanted to take care of me, and no one… fuck.

My grip stroked tight along my length, the piercings adding another layer to my torture.

I didn’t know what was worse, her begging to take care of me or her begging me to take care of her. God, it was all I wanted. To be there for whatever she needed. To possess her in every fucking way. To be her Daddy.

I panted, the air from my chest spraying off the water that ran down my face and collected on my lips. Pleasure bubbled along my spine. Hot and full and heavy as it sank lower and lower and?—

I went rigid at the sound—the catch of her breath.

Sutton.

I froze, my teeth locking as I turned my head just enough to confirm that I wasn’t actually going insane and she was standing in the bathroom behind me.

I didn’t have to turn far to catch her reflection in the vanity mirror. The flush in her cheeks. That fucking invitation in her parted lips.

“What are you doing?” I demanded raggedly, my cock pulsing in my grip.

Fuck, that was the wrong thing to say.

“Checking on you.” She took a step closer.

Yeah, my back was to her, but there was no curtain or glass door behind me—nothing but the unobstructed view of a man jacking himself off in the shower.

“Get out,” I barked.

“I thought you could use some help washing your back,” she quipped, but her voice was anything but quippy. And her suggestion was anything but an offer of help.

I brought my head back and forced out an exhale, my vision wobbling. I was so fucking on edge—needed this release so fucking bad. God, the only thing I could see perfectly fucking clear was my angry cock about to split my fucking fist.

Every nanosecond was torture. Every drop of water on my skin. On the metal ends of my piercings. On the purpled, fat tip. I felt them all like a fucking whip to wounded flesh.

“I don’t,” I found the strength to croak, my shoulder muscles spasming as I pictured her hands on me.

“Like you didn’t need help with your coffee earlier this morning?”

I couldn’t hear her moving, but I knew her voice was closer this time. Close enough that the husk of her tone felt like those pointed nails of hers straight down my spine.

“Sutton.” I let out a strained groan, my body tightened like a string about to snap as I tried to hold my need at bay. “You need to leave.” Fuck. Before I could stop myself, I gave my cock one hard and fast pump to appease it.

I’d been so fucking close—and so fucking horny for days. High on pain meds and then drugged on sleep meds and so close to her…a more perfect recipe for disaster didn’t exist.

“And if I don’t?”

My jaw wrenched so tight, I swore I was going to push my teeth into my skull. I needed her to go. I needed to be alone. Needed this release.

“ Goddammit ,” I swore on an exhale, my fist giving my cock an angry, bordering on pain tug. The pleasure was a double-edged sword. A moment of relief for minutes of regret, knowing she was watching. Knowing she saw how I couldn’t control myself.

“Get the fuck out, Sutton,” I barked.

My arm started to tremble like when muscles are held in a position for too long and are on the brink of fatigue. But it wasn’t just my muscles. It was the whole of me that was on the brink of complete fucking capitulation. The brink of demanding everything from her and giving her no fucking choice. Her. Jon’s daughter.

Fuck.

“No.” Her voice cracked through my self-flagellating thoughts. “I’m washing your back,” she declared with the unmistakable sound of the lather of a washcloth.

I let out a long groan and tightened my hold around my girth, feeling it swell at the taste of her defiance…and all the things it made me want to do to her.

Air heaved in and out of my lungs, my vision swimming into focus on my cock, the length swelling through my fingers, the tip so fucking angry and dripping with precum.

I saved her life , and this was how she wanted to thank me? By having me torture myself to death?

I swore loudly at her first touch, as though it were a whip not a washcloth along the slope of my shoulders.

“Sutton…” I wasn’t above begging. Not anymore. Not when I couldn’t fucking see straight, my body in a fucked-up tug of war between the instinct to release and the need for restraint.

“Please don’t stop on my account,” she murmured, dragging the cloth along my shoulders in slow, rhythmic circles.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I shouldn’t do a lot of things I do,” she said, circling onto my mid-back. “You should know this about me by now.”

“I’m going to punish you for this,” I groaned, letting out a breath as I gave myself leave to stroke myself once. Twice.

“I like when you punish me.” There was no missing the hungry change to her voice. “But you know that, too.”

“Fuck…” I couldn’t hold the curse in, and I couldn’t hold my arm steady any longer.

The tiled space echoed the low rumble that broke from my chest, wrapping me in the sound of my own weakness as I began to pump myself.

“I just want to take care of you, too.”

Christ . There were many things that could bring a man to his knees, but nothing more than this strong, independent woman wanting to not only not fight me…but give me this.

Distantly I heard the sound of the washcloth hitting the shower floor, and then it was only her bare fingertips in the center of my back. On my spine. Sliding lower. Her hand turned when it reached the base of my spine, her fingers splayed down toward my ass.

Fuck.

“Sutton…” It was a warning. It was a wanting.

Warm electricity coiled low in my spine, the pressure building so tight with need and anticipation I could hardly fucking breathe.

“I’m going to punish you so fucking hard for this,” I choked out between the wet sounds of my hand jerking along my length.

I felt her breath on my back. “Good.”

And then she pushed her soap-slicked finger into my tight hole.

“ Fuckkk .” Stars exploded behind my eyelids.

My cock swelled so thick, my piercings stretched the limits of my skin. Pleasure churned like a hurricane, and then her finger hit something that detonated me.

I came with a roar, my cock jerking wildly in my hold, splashing the tile wall with thick ropes of cum. The whole time I came, I felt her finger in my asshole, tethering me to her in a way that was so fucking insane and erotic I swore the earth tipped and shook under me.

“Fuck.” I wasn’t sure how many times the word left my mouth, but it was enough that it started to sound foreign on my tongue.

Only when I started to catch my breath did I feel her slip her finger free, my body shuddering at the sensation.

Reality pieced itself together with each passing second. The pleasure oozing through my blood turned into something needier—something hungrier. Something that wanted to both punish and pleasure her for what she’d just done. Something that wouldn’t be sated until I knew the truth…and the taste of her cunt.

“You shouldn’t have done that, little wasp,” I said between big breaths.

“No, I definitely should have.”

I made a sound that landed somewhere between a laugh and a groan. She had no fucking clue what was in store for her. No fucking clue.

My head dropped back as though I were about to send up either a plea for restraint or a prayer for forgiveness. I wished I were. But I was so fucking beyond that, I realized now. The barriers that kept me from her shattered in the split second when she’d barged into the bedroom and put herself in the assassin’s crosshairs. At that moment, a switch had flipped inside me.

It had turned from off-limits to mine.

Mine to protect. Mine to care for. Mine to possess.

I turned the water off, letting the last drop have a chance to fall before I slowly turned and faced her.

The satisfied smile on her face disappeared when her gaze landed on my waist.

Size was one thing. Hardware was another.

It was a simple story. A silly dare. All of us were to get piercings, and as the oldest, the one who was “getting up there,” the joke was I should get a ladder. So, I sat and got six bars pierced through the frenum of my cock…and it wasn’t a joke anymore.

“You’re not the only one with piercings, little wasp,” I told her, staring at her pierced tits that were hard as fuck under her shirt.

“I see that.” She tried to swallow, and my dick twitched, imagining her trying to swallow around me. “Do they hurt?”

“When I’m around you.” The confession tore from my chest. Everything fucking hurt when I was around her.

Her tongue slid over her bottom lip like she wanted to taste my pain, knowing how closely it was tied to my desire. I hissed, taking my semi-hard cock back in my hand, positioning the head toward her.

“Now, get on your knees and lick me clean, little wasp,” I ordered, soaking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and parted lips. “You disobeyed me. Time to clean up the mess you made.”

Her eyes flashed, instinctive defiance always her first response. A trauma response. One she was so afraid to let go of…except with me.

Sutton lowered onto her knees, her gaze holding mine as though we were still at eye level. Never would I mistake that her submission to me meant she was weak.

“Lick.”

My cock twitched as she tipped forward and then started to thicken when the pink tip of her tongue slid out and flicked over the tip.

I shuddered at the hot spear of pleasure.

“You can do better than that,” I growled, and she smiled in return.

This time, she tongued around all of me, making my heart hammer double-time in my chest. For a second, I lost myself in the sight of her, her dark hair layered like a blanket of midnight over her shoulders. Her dusky blue eyes locked on mine, searching for me—for more. And her mouth wide. Her pink lips spread as her tongue laved over the fat tip of my cock.

I was so locked on the sight, I didn’t realize what she was going to do until her lips closed over my head and sucked. Hard.

“Fuck,” I hissed and jerked my hips back, my cock popping from her mouth with an audible loss. I reached out and gripped her chin, running my thumb over her bottom lip. “I’m going to punish you, little wasp, but not like that.” Her brows lifted. “The way I want to fuck your throat, I’ll wind up breaking your pretty teeth if you put me in your mouth like that again.”

Her breath caught.

“You understand?” I applied pressure.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” I rasped deep, pressing my thumb between her lips.

Sutton let out a soft moan that made my dick twitch, especially when she tongued the tip of my thumb.

“Yes, Daddy,” she murmured demurely when I removed my finger.

I groaned, feeling like I could come again just from hearing her call me that.

I’d never engaged in this kink before. I’d thought about it—fantasized about it—and knew enough to know there were all kinds of depths it could go to, but this was where I wanted it to stay. Given that our age difference was big enough to be considered legal in its own right, I didn’t need nor want her to pretend she was any younger than she already was.

I didn’t need age play or dress-up or any other fucking thing besides this: to be her Daddy. Her protector. Her possessor. The man who would always take care of her. The man she could always count on.

I also didn’t want to change who she was. I didn’t want her fight to always submit to me. Only in here. Like this.

“Good girl.” The most basic, most feral kind of need skated through my body. Like a part of me had been missing for thirty-nine years, and now I’d just found it. “Now stand up and take off your clothes. You owe me an explanation for each of your tattoos.”

Her eyes flashed.

Punishments didn’t always have to be physical. And after what she’d just done to me, this one was going to be a helluva lot more than a spanking.