“Hendricks isn’t my pimp. He’s my father.”
Chapter Nine
Garrak
I sat thereon the couch, holding a sleeping Stevie, for a long time. Every light in the condo was on, and the detritus of our weekly poker game was still spread around. But the table was a mess, with half the chips and all the cards on the ground…and I could see the marks of Stevie’s ass on the table.
I’d lost count of the number of times she came on my cock.
Each time had felt fuckingremarkable. I’d been able to feel her inner muscles squeezing me, her desire leaking from her body, covering my poker table.
I was never going to be able to play at that table again without thinking of her writhing beneath me, was I?
It had been addicting as fuck, to feel her climax on my cock. The first time, I’d almost lost control and come aswell, but had become distracted by the incredible sight of Stevie spread out on the table, experiencing ecstasy. I’d told myself that from now on, I would only fuck her with the lights on.
But then I’d realized that I didn’t have to wait; I could make her come again. So I did.
And then again. And again.
It wasaddictive.I think I’d gone into a sort of trance, just pulling out and spearing her again, obsessed with the scent and sounds andsightof her coming on my cock.
Each time, I wanted to begin thrusting. To claim her. To spill inside her andmake her mine. Mine. But then Hendricks’ debt would be paid. This had been aboutherpleasure, and it was easy enough to pull out and slam back in again, watching her climax again and again until she’d sobbed and begged for me to stop.
Gods below, I’d wanted to continue. Fucking addicting, I tell you.
The daze hadn’t ended. Had I ever woken? My heart was still pounding, myKteerstill howling, and my chest still ached with the effort of holding everything in place. I clutched her to me, my lips pressed against her blue hair, staring across the room but not seeing…
Mine. Mine. Mine.
I wanted Stevie. Not just for the night, not just because she needed my protection…butforever.Was she my Mate, as Korrad had said? Is that what this connection was?
Hendricks isn’t my pimp. He’s my father.
Father.
Father.
Hendricks had called her a whore and sent her to pay his debt.
He was herfather. The male who was supposed to protect her, care for her. He’d turned her into a whore for him, out of fear of retaliation.
But now? Now Stevie wasmine, and I would protect her from that bastard’s retaliation. I didn’t know how, but I wasn’t going to send her back to him.
I didn’t know much, but I knew that.
Decision made, I stood with a grunt, lifting Stevie easily. My cock still throbbed against her ass, desperate for release, but I had more important things to do. I carried her into my bedroom, then went to fetch a large glass of ice water and a soapy warm washcloth. She was curled on her side when I returned, so I knelt beside the bed.
“Stevie. Sweetheart, I need you to wake up.”
“Mmmm.”
I grinned, knowing I’d worn her out. “Stevie. Open your eyes now.”
As expected, my female responded to the command. Her eyes flashed open, and I helped her sit up. “Drink this.” Obediently, she gulped the water, and I pressed a kiss to her temple as I held her upright. “Good girl.”
Gods below, I loved the way she flushed happily whenever I praised her…just as much as I loved the way she went wild when I called her a slut and scraped her nipple with my tusks.
While I was busy being lost in that memory, Stevie finished the water. “Good girl,” I whispered again with another kiss, then laid her gently on the pillow once more. As I wiped her thighs and cunt with the warm cloth, her eyes closed.
