This time, it took me only a moment to stop fighting.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, the words slipping out unbidden.
Finally, he spoke, his voice a low growl. “I do not want your apology,zayka,Only your comprehension.”
His hand held me firmly, his icy tone chilling me as he spoke with deliberate calm. He seemed barely to strain to keep me subdued while I struggled just to catch my breath. “Do you understand,zayka?”
I’d been so confused since the day we met, but somehow I knew how to answer. I licked my dry lips. “Yes, I understand.”
“I do not believe you do,zayka.But you will.” His words drifted down my back like black smoke. A dark promise. “You will understand that you are mine.”
He began tunneling in and out of me, his voice low and laced with command. “You will understand you are not to run. Not to fight. You will never, ever flirt with another in front of me. You will think of no man but me.”
His strokes quickened, and though his tone stayed hard, an edge of desperation slipped in. “If you have problem… emergency… you will come to me. Not boss. Not parents. Not needy friends. Only me.”
Oh God. Oh God.Yom hadn’t lied or even understated the situation. Red flags rained down over me with each hard, claiming stroke, precise and relentless, like he was some kind of machine.
I should have screamed the safe word.Suitcase, suitcase, suitcase.
But instead, a thin, keening sound filled up the room.
Oh God.It was coming from me.
A strange, primal heat flooded my body, reaching places I hadn’t even known existed. Every nerve tingled with an urge to reach back, to rub at the button between my legs, but I already knew better.
As if sensing my need, Yom’s voice rumbled above me, dark and commanding. “If you are aroused, you will come to me. I will not be cheated on—not even with your own hand. And if you ever wish to leave…”
His voice cracked, rough, and fraying, and he thrust into me harder before he could speak again. “If you wish to leave, you understand—you will talk to me, and I will make you stop wishing that.”
His voice was stripped bare now, each word raw as he took me harder, his strokes becoming unrestrained. “You are mine now. Tell me you understand.Tell me.”
My breath hitched, every command, every word striking me like he was holding me down by my heart. His demands were unhinged. But a sick thrill pierced my core. Even without clitoral stimulation, my pussy spasmed dangerously around him, my head swimming with lust.
I tried to reason with him, just as I’d coaxed him out of his nightmare earlier. “Yom, baby?—”
“You will not call me by this baby pet name!”
He caved his body over mine, covering my back with his chest as he moved inside me faster and faster.
“Man I meet upstairs… he is terrible father,” Yom informed me, his voice rough in my ear. “He is not protecting you. Is not giving you so much pride in yourself that a bastard like me can never claim you. So…”
His voice dipped, low and guttural. “I am your Daddy now.”
Twenty-two.I was barely twenty-two, and Yom was only a few months older than me. How could he even be saying this?
I crumpled into the bed, my hips giving out, but Yom only gripped me tighter, driving into me with plowing, deep strokes that pushed my face even farther into the pillow.
“This,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “This is what you will understand,zayka.I am your Daddy, your protector. Your body belongs to Daddy. Your heart belongs to Daddy, who will keep you, take care of you, andnever…ever… let you go.”
His voice cracked, a raw tremor threading through his words as he moved, wild and frantic, on top of me.
“I will love you forever. You will never leave me. And you will always, always love me back. Tell me you understand this,zayka.”
One arm wrapped around my neck, just tight enough to choke me without hurting me while he thrusts into me harder and harder. “Tell your Yom, ‘Daddy, I understand.’”
So…
So…
