He turns me sideways on his lap, one hand moving to cradle my face. His eyes search mine, giving me time to pull away. I don't. Instead, I lean into him, drawn by some magnetic force I can't explain.
His kiss is nothing like I expected. Not rough or demanding, but tender. Exploratory. His beard tickles my chin as his lips move against mine, coaxing rather than conquering. But when I gasp, opening for him, the kiss transforms. Becomes hungry,consuming. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming it, and a moan builds in my throat.
Thorne growls in response, the sound vibrating through me. In one fluid movement, he stands, lifting me like I weigh nothing. I cling to his shoulders, dizzy with desire as he carries me down the hall to a bedroom dominated by a massive handcrafted bed.
"Not too late to say no," he says, setting me on the edge of the mattress. His eyes burn with want, but his voice is controlled. Giving me an out.
I reach for him instead, pulling him down to me. "I don't want to say no," I whisper against his lips. "I want you."
The last thread of his control snaps. He covers me with his body, his weight pressing me into the mattress as he kisses me again—harder this time, desperate. His hands slide under my shirt, calloused palms rough against my skin in the best possible way.
"So perfect, little girl," he murmurs, pushing my shirt up to expose my breasts. His eyes darken as he takes them in. "Made for me."
The reverence in his voice makes me brave. I arch up, offering myself to him. "Show me," I challenge. "Show me what you want."
His smile is wolfish, predatory. "Oh, I will," he promises, lowering his head to my breast. "I'll show you exactly what Daddy wants."
The word should shock me. Should make me push him away. Instead, it sends liquid heat straight to my core, making me writhe beneath him as his mouth closes over my nipple.
God help me, I think I've found exactly what I've been looking for—in the last place on earth I expected to find it.
four
. . .
Thorne
She's so fuckingresponsive it makes my head spin. Every touch, every word of praise makes her moan and arch like she's been starving for it. Forme. Her nipple pebbles against my tongue as I suck harder, and her hands fist in my hair, holding me to her chest like she's afraid I'll stop. As if I could. As if I'd ever willingly take my hands or mouth off her perfect body now that I've had a taste. Five years of isolation, of nightmares and grief, and now this angel is writhing underneath me, offering herself up like a sacrifice. Like salvation.
I lavish attention on her other breast, my hand sliding down to her panties. She lifts her hips eagerly, helping me strip them off. Christ, she's already soaked, her thighs glistening in the dim light.
"Look at you," I murmur, running my fingers through her folds. She bucks against my hand, desperate for more contact. "So wet for Daddy already."
Her eyes flutter closed, cheeks flushing pink at the word. "Please," she whispers, and it's the sweetest sound I've ever heard.
I strip quickly, watching her eyes widen as I reveal myself. I know what she sees—a body hardened by years of physical labor, scars from accidents with tools and trees, and a cock that looks almost comically large compared to her tiny frame. But there's no fear in her expression. Just wonder.Hunger.
"You're sure?" I ask, positioning myself between her spread thighs. My cock throbs painfully, the head brushing against her wet heat. I'm already leaking pre-cum, my body more eager than it's ever been.
She nods, reaching for me, pulling me closer. "I'm sure."
I brace myself over her, one hand beside her head, the other guiding my cock to her entrance. Our eyes lock as I push forward, just the tip breaching her tight opening.
"You're mine now, little girl." The words rumble from somewhere deep in my chest, primal and possessive. "No one else touches what's mine."
She moans, her hips lifting to take more of me. "Yes," she breathes. "Yours."
I push in slowly, inch by inch, watching her face for any sign of pain. She's tight—so fucking tight—but she takes me beautifully, her body yielding to mine like it was made for this purpose. For me.
"That's it, good girl," I praise as I finally bottom out, fully sheathed in her heat. "Stretch for Daddy."
Her inner walls pulse around me, adjusting to my size. I hold still, though every instinct screams at me to move, to claim, to rut. I won't hurt her. Not my little girl. Not my Lila.
"So big," she gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders. "You feel…oh God..."
I start to move then, slow, controlled thrusts that have her mewling beneath me. Each withdrawal and push back in is torture and bliss. Her pussy grips me like it doesn't want tolet go, and the thought makes my chest swell with primitive satisfaction.
"Perfect," I growl, picking up the pace. “Knew you’d be like this. Knew you’d be able to take it like a good little girl.”
