Her hands twist in the fabric of her damp dress. "I should."
"But you won't." I kneel between her legs, pushing her dress up to expose pale thighs. My hands look massive against her skin, dark and rough with calluses. "Because you're tired of running. Tired of being afraid. And right now, you want me just as much as I want you."
A tear slips down her cheek, but she spreads her legs wider.Surrender.
I take my time undressing her, peeling away the wet clothes to reveal soft curves I've only glimpsed through windows and from a distance. Her breasts fill my hands perfectly, nipples tightening under my rough palms. When I finally ease her panties down her legs, the scent of her arousal makes me growl.
"You never been touched here, baby girl?" I slide one finger through her folds, finding her slick and ready. She shakes her head, biting her lip. "Never had a cock inside this tight pussy?"
"N-no," she whispers, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment.
My control nearly shatters. A virgin.Myvirgin. "Look at me," I demand, and her eyes fly open. "Gonna take care of you. Gonna make it good."
I work her open slowly with my fingers, watching her face as she experiences these sensations for the first time. Her little gasps and moans drive me wild, but I force myself to be patient. When she's writhing on three of my thick fingers, I finally free my cock, guiding the swollen head to her entrance.
"Such a good little girl," I murmur as I begin to press inside, feeling her body resist the intrusion. "Taking Daddy's cock so deep."
Her eyes go wide at the name—Daddy—but the shock melts into something else as I push deeper. Pain, yes, but something darker and needier underneath.
"That's it," I praise as her body yields to mine, inch by agonizing inch. "Gonna fill this tight pussy until you're bred and swollen."
The words slip out, raw and filthy, and her inner walls clench around me in response. I freeze, buried to the hilt inside her, watching her process the dirty promise.
"Bred?" she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders.
I grind my hips against hers, too far gone to lie. "Gonna pump you full of my cum, baby girl. Make you round with my baby."
Instead of disgust, her pupils blow wide, her back arching. "Gray..."
"Daddy," I correct, beginning to thrust properly now. "Say it."
She resists for a moment, then surrenders. "Daddy," she whispers, the word breaking as I hit a spot deep inside her that makes her gasp. "Oh God, Daddy, please."
I lose my mind at the sound of that word on her lips. My hips snap forward, claiming her with brutal precision. She's so tight, so perfect around me. I've never felt anything like this—never wanted to possess someone so completely.
"Mine," I growl against her neck as I feel her start to shudder around me. "Say it, little girl. Tell me who you belong to."
"You," she cries out as her first orgasm hits her, her innocence making it intense and overwhelming. "I'm yours, Daddy, I'm yours!"
I follow her over the edge, emptying myself deep inside her with a roar, my come marking her as mine from the inside out. The first of many loads I'll pump into this sweet body.
As I catch my breath, still buried inside her, I brush damp hair from her flushed face. She looks dazed, transformed. I kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips.
"No more running," I tell her. "You're home now."
three
. . .
Beck
I wakeup in an unfamiliar bed, my body aching in places I never knew could ache. The sheets smell like pine and musk—likehim.Gray. Memories of last night flood back in a rush of heat and shame. His hands everywhere. His mouth claiming mine. The filthy things he whispered while buried deep inside me. The way I begged for more, wrapping my legs around his waist to keep him close. What the hell is wrong with me? I don't know this man—this bounty hunter who's been stalking me for weeks—and yet I gave him my virginity on his couch less than an hour after he carried me into his cabin.
Sunlight streams through half-drawn curtains, illuminating a bedroom that's spartanly furnished but clean. A dresser. A nightstand. A chair where my clothes—now dry—are neatly folded. I'm wearing one of his t-shirts, the fabric swimming on my frame, hanging to mid-thigh.
I don't remember putting it on.
The ache between my legs throbs as I sit up. I feel different—claimed in some primal way that should terrify me. It does terrify me. But there's something else too. A warmth in my chest I don't recognize.
