His typing grew faster as his agitation stoked higher and hotter, chair creaking beneath him as he leaned forward, assuming a predator’s crouch. He told himself he was displeased with the email he wasn’t reading from the client whose will he still had yet to review. But that wasn’t true.
As always, it came down to her.
He knocked back the shot, the first of what would probably be many, and then heard from the doorway a fluting, tremulous voice: “Daddy, I want to be your sparrow.”
The words could have been cobbled from the wants he denied himself even from within the hostile architecture of his own imagination. Hearing them spoken aloud, by her, was temptation itself, and temporarily robbed him of speech. Hecould only stare as desire raced through him like a voracious wildfire, scorching from within.
She was wearing an oversized flannel shirt, left open at the throat. Her gold necklace gleamed at her collarbones, drawing the eye. On her fuller figure, the fabric rode high, just grazing the tops of her thighs. Her long legs were completely bare, her knees bruised from their tumble in the glade. When she shifted her weight, he caught a glimpse of white panties. She gripped the hem with her nervous fingers, molding the fabric to her body.
“You’re drunk,” he said, recognizing the flush in her face and the way she was swaying on her feet. A better man would have taken her to bed and left her there, but Cal stayed where he was, leaning back in his chair. Bites trailed down her throat like falling petals. He could just make out the edge of one he’d left on her breast.
She gave him a look that raked him the same way her fingers did, and had his cock throbbing when her gaze lingered on his spread thighs and the unmistakable tenting of his fly. “I thought it might be better,” she said, just above a whisper.
“Oh?” His voice was calm, but only just; the promise of satisfaction gave his elocution the bladed edge of tempered steel. “What would be better, Nadine?”
She bit her lip, meeting his eyes again. “When you chase me.”
His pulse accelerated, charging like a rampaging bull—he could hear the roar of it in his ears, feel it in the warmth that gripped him low in his belly like a hand that had gone tight-fisted with need. It was desire that bordered on pain and he craved it more than anything.
The leather armrest beneath his fingers was as supple as skin yielding to a bruise. She watched his hands on the chairand a tendon in her throat jumped as he flexed his fingers deliberately. Beneath her shirt, her chest rose and fell rapidly, making her gold necklace flash and gleam in the dim light of his bedroom.
“You want me to chase you, little sparrow?” She took a step back, just one, and Cal lifted from his chair, shifting his weight to his heels as he readied himself to spring. “But what if I want to do more than that?”
He was on his feet almost before she started to run—but she did run, shirt riding up to expose her backside, covered by the skimpy cotton panties that he’d already decided to rip off of her. She flew through the small hallway like a dart, with a speed that would have been impressive if it weren’t keeping him from what he wanted.
She tried to shove the door on her side closed, but Cal flung it open with one shoulder, sending her stumbling backwards from the force, arms pinwheeling. Another button loosened on her shirt and she clutched it closed as she edged back, her face alight with erotic terror.
Cal let her get as far as the door before springing again, gripping her by her thick waist and hoisting her up, over the bar of his arm, leveraging one hand under her substantial backside. Her body jiggled beneath the flannel and he could already feel her heat. With a growl, he adjusted his grip and she let out a gasping little scream as he let her spill backwards into a bridal carry, exposing an obscene amount of cleavage. Her necklace swung back to smack her in the cheek, making her blink, as if stunned.
“You know what I want from you,” he said.
“Everything,” she panted, resigned, breathless.
His smile was all teeth. When he set her back down on her feet, she swayed again, holding onto him for support. He kept his hand at the small of her back, even as he nipped at her deliberately with his feet to herd her to where he wanted her now—
Her bed.
Cal crushed his mouth against hers and felt the small, rippling vibration of her moan. Her fingers gouged into his shoulders as he slid one large hand into her open shirt, cupping a breast. He felt her breathing quicken in harsh puffs as he rolled her nipple between his fingers before using the sharp point of his knuckles to press against one of his bites. Hard.
She gasped again, arching into him until her hips were molded against his jutting erection. He thrust in response, grinding his hips against her until he could feel how soaked she was, even through their clothes. Breathless himself now, Cal took his hand out of her blouse and ripped at his fly. Then he yanked her flimsy cotton panties to the side so urgently that fabric tore as he notched himself against her dripping cunt, before sliding home.
Nadine hitched her thighs around his waist, pulling him deeper as he entered her—slowly, much more slowly than he needed, wanting to make this a proper claiming. She milked him with each delicate contraction of muscle, squeezing his buttocks on every thrust with those long, endless legs, as if spurring him on to an even more efficient form of brutality.
Greedy sparrow, he thought, approvingly. What a little hellcat. He bit her through the shirt, teeth sinking into fabric into skin. She yipped, head falling back when he ripped her panties the rest of the way off so he could fuck her without resistance, breathing so roughly against her shoulder that hefelt the condensation from his own breaths beading on his face. Fuck, the things she did to him—the things she made him feel—
It will never be this way with anyone else, he thought.My poor sweet love.
Nadine looked up at him with a dazed, desirous expression as he pulled out, his cock slick and glistening. He pushed her back against the bed, taking in the sight of her: lips swollen, chest flushed and heaving, pearlescent streaks of come branding her slit and thighs. He fell against her, bracing himself against his forearms, sliding through her wetness to glide down from her cunt to her perineum—all the way down to her anus.
She clenched instinctively as she understood what he wanted, the fear returning.
“I want you this way.” His voice was unrecognizable, ringing with the ease of possession that had long since eluded him in this heavy house of death. “I want you every way. Even if it hurts. That’s what it means to be a sparrow, Nadine. It means submission—and surrender. To me.”
Her fingers dug into the sheets, bunching them. He thought she might refuse, as Noelle had refused her husband, forcing him to confront the fact that he would rather see the back of her than hold her forever in lifeless eternity. But then she pushed back, lifting her hips to accept him: a silent, unspoken offering of her willingness to be sacrificed.
That was the moment that he become completely, unequivocally hers.
Cal growled again and pushed, spearing her open on his cock. She whimpered loudly, cords of muscle standing out in stark relief as her body twisted beneath his. It sounded like pain. It probably was. But she gasped out, “I’myours, Daddy.”
