I increase the pace, angling to hit that spot that makes her see stars. She's babbling now, a mix of "Daddy" and "please" and "so good."
"Look at me," I command when her eyes start to flutter closed. "Eyes on Daddy when you come."
She forces them open, pupils blown wide with pleasure. I can feel her getting close, clenching rhythmically around me.
"You going to come on Daddy's cock? Going to be a good girl and come when Daddy tells you to?"
"Yes! Please, Daddy, please can I come?"
"Not yet. Hold it. Want to feel you desperate for it."
She whimpers, her whole body trembling with the effort. "Daddy, please, I need it!"
"I know what you need, baby girl. Daddy always knows." I thrust harder, deeper. "Come for me. Come for Daddy right now."
She shatters, crying out my name, clenching so hard around me it's like a vice. The feeling of her coming on my cock breaks something in me. My control snaps completely.
"Fuck—Bunny!" I slam into her harder, chasing it, lost to the need to claim her, fill her, mark her as mine. She's still pulsing around me and it's too much, too good, too perfect.
I bury myself as deep as I can go and come with a roar, my whole body locking up as I empty myself inside her. Can't think, can't breathe, just feel—her heat, her softness, her pussy milking every last drop from me.
"Mine," I growl against her neck when I can finally form words, still grinding into her, making sure she takes all of it. "My good girl. My perfect little bunny. Mine."
“I’m yours," she agrees sleepily. "Your good girl."
"The best girl. My perfect little bunny."
She falls asleep in my arms, safe and claimed. I stay awake, marveling at how a fake date turned into something real. Something permanent.
I grab my phone, text Marshall:You owe me fifty bucks.
Already? The wedding's not even over.
Doesn't matter. She's mine.
Double or nothing you marry her within a year.
You're on.
six
Bunny
Iwakeuptangledin John. His scent: dark and masculine, his warmth, his massive arm banded around my waist like he's afraid I'll disappear. Last night crashes over me in waves. The hotel room. His hands. His mouth. Calling himDaddywhile he...
Oh my god. I did that.We did that.
"Good morning," he rumbles against my hair, voice rough with sleep.
"How did you know I was awake?"
"You're wiggling."
"I don't wiggle!" But I totally do. I wiggle when I'm anxious, when I'm excited, when I'm thinking too hard about something.
He spanks my bottom lightly, not hard, just enough to make me squeak. "No lying to Daddy."
The casual way he says it, like it's the most natural thing in the world, makes my stomach flip. He's still doing it. In daylight. Without the excuse of sex clouding everything. This isreal.
