Something primal and possessive breaks loose inside me. "That's right, baby girl. And Daddy's gonna fill you up. Gonna put my babies in this virgin womb. Make sure everyone knows you're mine."
The breeding talk should scare her. Should be too much, too soon. But instead, she tightens around me, a tell-tale sign she's close.
"You like that?" I growl, leaning over her back to speak directly into her ear. "Like the idea of me breeding you? Filling this innocent body with my seed until your belly swells with my child?"
"Yes," she confesses, voice breaking with pleasure. "Please, Daddy. Want to be yours completely."
That admission destroys the last of my control. I slam into her, one hand gripping her hip, the other wrapped in her ponytail, pulling just enough to arch her back.
"Come for me," I command. "Come on Daddy's cock while I breed you deep."
She shatters beautifully, her pussy clamping down on me like a vise, milking my own release. I bury myself to the hilt and empty inside her with a roar, marking her from within.
Afterward, I gather her trembling body in my arms, carrying her to my bedroom. I lay her on the bed gently, as if she might break, and stretch out beside her. She curls against me immediately, fitting perfectly against my side.
"I'm sorry if I was too rough," I murmur, stroking her hair.
She looks up at me, eyes soft and sated. "Don't apologize. I loved it." A shy smile crosses her face. "I love how protective you are. How you make me feel safe, even when you're being…intense."
Something in my chest cracks open at her words. This sweet, innocent girl sees the beast in me and isn't afraid. She welcomes it. Embraces it.
"You're mine now," I tell her, not a question but a statement of fact. "No going back."
Her answer is to press a gentle kiss over my heart. "I don't want to go back. I want to go forward. With you."
And for the first time in my violent, bloody life, I feel something like peace.
six
. . .
Amanda
I've never feltsafe enough to tell anyone the whole story. Not my friends. Not my family. Certainly not the cops who took the initial report but couldn't do much else. But lying here in Ryker's massive bed, his body curled protectively around mine like a living fortress, I finally feel ready. The words have been building in my chest for hours, days, years maybe. He deserves to know. Deserves to understand why I flinch at sudden movements sometimes. Why I check the locks three times. Why I lived like a ghost until he saw me—really saw me—last night at the bar.
It's only been twenty-four hours since Ryker stepped between me and Danny, but everything has changed. My body is no longer my own—it's ours, marked and claimed in ways I never imagined possible. My virginity given freely to this scarred warrior who calls me "princess" and "little girl" in that rough voice that makes me melt.
I trace the tattoo wrapping around his bicep—some tribal pattern interwoven with what looks like stylized fighting gloves—and gather my courage.
"I want to tell you about Danny," I say quietly. "The whole story."
Ryker's arm tightens around me, but he remains silent. Waiting. His eyes—those storm-gray eyes that miss nothing—watch me carefully.
"We met in high school. Senior year. He was…charming, at first." I take a deep breath, steadying myself. "We only dated for two weeks. He came on strong—flowers, gifts, wanting to meet my parents right away. It felt…overwhelming. But I thought maybe that's how relationships were supposed to be."
Ryker's jaw tightens, but he lets me continue.
"Then he started getting possessive. Angry if I talked to other guys. Checking my phone. Following me between classes." I swallow hard. "The kiss happened after school one day. I was at my locker, and he just…appeared. Pushed me against it. Forced his tongue in my mouth. I pushed him away and ran."
Ryker's breathing changes, becomes deliberately measured, like he's controlling something violent inside.
"The next day, I broke up with him. Told him it was moving too fast, that I wasn't ready." I laugh bitterly. "That's when it started. The texts. The calls. Showing up at my work, my house. Following me."
"How long?" Ryker asks, his voice dangerously soft.
"Three years." I shiver despite the warmth of his body. "It comes in waves. He'll disappear for months, then suddenly be everywhere. I moved twice. Changed my number four times. The restraining order expired last year, and I..." My voice breaks. "I was too scared to renew it. Going to court meant facing him again."
Ryker shifts, pulling me on top of him so I'm straddling his lap, facing him. His massive hands cup my face with impossible gentleness.
