The invitation—the submission—makes something primal roar to life inside me. I deliver a sharp slap to her right cheek, watching the pale skin turn pink under my hand. She gasps, but pushes back for more.
I position myself at her entrance, pushing in slowly, groaning at how tight she is from this angle. "Fuck," I mutter, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. "So perfect. So tight for me."
I set a relentless pace, each thrust driving her forward on the bed. She moans beneath me, her fingers clutching at the sheets, her back arching beautifully as she takes everything I give her.
"That's it," I encourage as I go deeper, harder, faster. "Take Daddy's cock like a good little girl. Taking it so deep, aren't you?"
"Yes," she gasps, pushing back to meet my thrusts. "So deep. So good, Woodrow. Please, don't stop."
I have no intention of stopping. Not until she's come around my cock again, until she's trembling and oversensitized and completely, thoroughly claimed.
My hand slides around to find her clit, circling it mercilessly as I pound into her from behind. "Come for me again," I demand, feeling my own release building. "Show me how much you love Daddy's cock."
She shatters beneath me, her pussy clamping down on my length so hard I see stars. I follow her over the edge with a shout, filling her up for the second time tonight, marking her from the inside as thoroughly as I've marked her skin from the outside.
We collapse forward together, both panting, sweat-slicked and satisfied. But only temporarily. I'm already planning our next round, my cock twitching with renewed interest despite having just come.
I roll onto my back, pulling her with me so she's sprawled across my chest. She looks up at me, eyes hazy with pleasure, lips swollen from our kisses.
"Insatiable," she murmurs, but there's no complaint in her tone. Just wonder, and maybe a little pride.
"Only for you," I tell her, stroking her hair back from her face. "Only ever for you."
We rest for a while, touching, kissing, exploring each other's bodies with unhurried hands. When I'm hard again—it doesn't take long, not with her soft curves pressed against me—I guide her on top of me.
"Your turn," I tell her, positioning her so she's straddling my hips. "Show me how much you want this cock, little girl."
Her eyes darken at the challenge. She rises up on her knees, taking my length in her small hand, guiding it to her entrance. Then, with a boldness that makes my heart swell with pride, she sinks down, taking me to the hilt in one smooth motion.
"Fuck," I groan, my eyes rolling back in my head. I damn near nut right then. My hands fly to her hips, helping support her. "Look at you, taking all of me. Such a perfect little cock sleeve for Daddy."
She blushes at the crude praise but doesn't shy away from it. Instead, she begins to move, rising and falling on my shaft, finding her rhythm. The sight of her above me—head thrown back, breasts bouncing with each movement, my ring glittering on her finger—is almost enough to make me come on the spot.
"That's it," I encourage, helping guide her movements. "Use me. Take your pleasure. Show me what you need."
Her pace increases, her movements growing more confident as she chases her own satisfaction. I let her lead, content to watch her come alive above me, this woman who was so shy, so innocent just days ago, now riding my cock like she was born for it.
"Touch yourself," I tell her, my voice rough with arousal. "Let me see you make yourself come on my cock."
Her hand slides between us, finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles as she continues to ride me. The dual stimulation has her panting, moaning, her inner walls fluttering around my shaft as she approaches her peak.
"That's it," I praise, feeling my own orgasm building. "Daddy's so proud of you, taking what you need. So fucking beautiful."
"Woodrow," she gasps, her movements becoming erratic as she nears the edge. "I'm going to?—"
"Come for me," I command, thrusting up to meet her downward movements. "Let me feel that tight pussy squeezing my cock."
She comes with a cry of my name, her body convulsing around me, milking my shaft, drawing my own release from me in powerful jets. I grab her hips, holding her down firmly as I empty myself inside her for the third time tonight, filling her with my seed.
When she collapses onto my chest, spent and trembling, I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. I can feel our combined fluids leaking out of her, down my cock, onto my thighs. The primal part of me revels in it—in marking her, claiming her, filling her with my essence over and over.
"Mine," I murmur into her hair, my hands stroking down her sweat-slicked back. "All mine. Forever."
"Yours," she agrees sleepily, pressing a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. "Forever."
As she drifts off to sleep in my arms, my ring on her finger, my seed in her womb, I allow myself to imagine the future stretching out before us. Marriage. Children. A life together built on this foundation of obsession and protection and bone-deep love.
It's not a future I ever thought I'd have. Not a future I ever thought I deserved. But with Priscilla in my arms, it doesn't just seem possible—it seems inevitable. Like every violent, blood-soaked moment of my past was leading me to her. To this. To us.
