The breath punched out of me.
Another thrust, deep, fast, devastating.
I cried out, hands clutching his shoulders, vision blurring.
“That’s it,” he rasped against my throat. “That’s what my girl needs? Hard?”
“Yes— Daddy?—”
He growled, an actual growl, and gave me exactly what I begged for. My head fell back against the wall as every thrust sent me higher, lighter, farther away from myself.
“Please, fuck me into subspace again” I whispered, lips brushing his cheek.
“My girl’s going to fucking ruin me.”
He tipped my hips, slid his hands beneath my thighs, and in one smooth motion, repositioned us, a new angle, deeper, against the wall as if he needed to anchor me there.
“You want deep and fast. Daddy’s going to give you deep and fast.”
I nodded, breath shaking.
The second he thrust, everything disappeared.
His hands gripped under my knees, pushing them higher, opening me wider for him. Each movement was sharp, perfect, devastating, hitting a place inside me that made my breath dissolve into broken sounds.
He adjusted his stance, tightening his hold, then he fucked me, again.
Hard.
Fast.
Deep.
My cry tore out of me, high and helpless.
“That’s my girl,” he breathed. “That’s my fucking girl?—”
My vision blurred. My legs shook. My chest vibrated with every thrust.
“Daddy— I?—”
“I know. I know baby. Don’t fight it. Mm. Keep making your daddy proud.”
I felt high, and so relaxed. The room fell away. And then, I gushed. It was all his fault from the angle. Not a slow spill.
A full, uncontrollable release that splashed between us, down my thighs, onto his wrist, his stomach, the wall behind me.
“Baby…you’re— you’re soaking Daddy?—”
I couldn’t answer. I was half-gone, floating, swimming, falling. He looked down. Saw how wet I was for him, how far gone. A sound tore out of him, deep, guttural and so fucking possessive.
“Oh…babygirl…”
His voice cracked.
“You’re gushing in subspace.”
Another gush spilled out around him, my body clenching helplessly.
