She bites her lips, dropping her gaze to her folded hands. “Not just today. These last two weeks.” She lets her gaze drift back up, full of vulnerable honesty. “These last two weeks—everything you did—was that to get me here?”
I suppress a smile. I was right. She still is a smart girl. “It was.”
Her brows draw tight again. “Why?”
“Killian wanted you, so I gave you to him.”
Her face falls, and a wounded expression clouds her gaze. I rather enjoy seeing her like this, unguarded and vulnerable, and I consider leaving her under the impression that Killian is the only reason she’s here. But I sense a current of abandonment inside her that reaches deep into her very foundation, and I don’t want to tear her down and break her spirit. Messing with these kinds of emotions is not the way to toy with her. At least not now.
So I add, “I do too.”
Her eyes widen with hope, just before she lowers them, clearly not wanting me to see. It’s no surprise. I’ve teased her with my desire for two weeks and kept her doubting whether I wanted her.
“I’m willing to do a lot of things for my son. But what I did to you in the bedroom is not something I’d do unless I desired it. Do you understand?”
She nods but doesn’t seem quite convinced.
I wave my hand for her to approach. “Come, sit on my lap.”
She hesitantly crosses the space between us and lowers herself to perch on my knee. Grabbing her waist, I hoist her onto my lap, shifting her to sit right on my hardening cock, which swells further under the exquisite firmness of her ass.
“Do you feel that?”
She gasps, and I let out a laugh.
“You really are an innocent little one. Almost like a child in a grown woman’s body. Tell me, how many hard cocks have you seen or felt?”
Pressing a hand to the side of her head, she hides from me. “This is so, so wrong.”
“It is,” I agree. “And that’s part of the reason why my cock is hard. Now answer my question.”
“One, two... three if I count yours,” she says. “I’m not sure the second one counts.”
Realization strikes a moment later. “Ah. Killian’s cock?”
She nods.
“Well, you felt his sperm all over your back, so that one definitely counts.”
She shudders. “This is sick.” The disgust in her voice seems to lend her a little strength, and she straightens her spine and removes the hand from her face. But she keeps her gaze averted, staring stiffly at the tall window and the view over the city beyond my garden.
I trail my fingers down the length of her spine. “That’s debatable. But I suggest you find a way to accept this situation, because you’re stuck in it.”
“How?” She turns to look me straight in the eye.
“Coming out of subspace, are we?” I say with amusement as she all but glares at me.
She gives a shake of her head. “What is that?”
“Subspace is when a submissive, like you, reacts so strongly to a Dominant that she sinks into a daze. It affects people differently, but it often dulls the mind and the senses. Sometimes, it even impedes the ability to walk and talk. You went quite deep this morning.”
“I’m not submissive,” she tries to deny, but the shame in her eyes tells me she already knows I’m right.
I grab her chin. “Tread very carefully, young lady. If you weren’t so inexperienced, I’d consider that a lie.”
Her jaw hardens, and her breathing comes faster through her nostrils as I keep her eyes locked on mine.
“Youaresubmissive. Deeply even, it seems. Trying to run away from that will only make you miserable.”
