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His fingers find my hair and stroke my head while he talks. His cock twitches in my mouth every few minutes, and I know he’s not as unaffected as he sounds.

I lose track of time. My jaw aches, and my knees burn against the floor. I feel every bit of the plug every time I shift. All I can think about is what comes next. He told me this was the only prep I was getting. His cock is in my mouth right now, and soon it’s going to be in my ass. The anticipation is making me shake.

He closes his laptop and looks down at me. His thumb traces my stretched lips.

“You’ve been so good for me, little one.” His voice is softer now. “See, you know how to be good. I might just have to keep you on your knees like this every day so I can keep my eye on you.”

He pulls his cock from my mouth and stands, putting his dick away. He pulls me to my feet, and I can barely hold myself up. He lifts me into his arms and carries me out of the study and up the stairs.

I bury my face in his neck. He smells like scotch and cologne, and I press my lips against his throat because I can’t help myself. He pushed his tongue into my mouth yesterday, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. The plug shifts with every step, and by the time we reach his bedroom door, I’m whimpering against his skin.

I’ve never been in his room before.

He sets me on the edge of his bed. The plug drives deeper when I sit, and I gasp.

“Arms above your head, little one.”

I lie back and raise my arms. He pulls rope from the nightstand and ties my wrists to the headboard. Firm. I pull against them and they hold.

My heart is slamming, and my pussy is throbbing. I want him so bad it hurts.

He rips my shirt down the front so my chest is exposed. Then he stands at the foot of the bed and pulls his own shirt over his head.

Fuck.

His body is chiseled, and the tattoos run over his shoulders and across his chest. Dark ink that I’ve only seen in pieces—his forearms when his sleeves were rolled, glimpses at the edges of his collar. Now I’m seeing all of it. Lines and shading that cover his chest and wrap around his shoulders and run down his arms. I want to trace every single one with my tongue.

But my eyes catch on something on his chest. A name, written in elegant script among the darker ink surrounding it.

Elise.

Was she his wife? He told me his wife died, but he didn’t tell me her name. Or it could be someone else. An ex. A woman he loved before.

My stomach tightens. Not from the plug. From the thought that this man has loved someone enough to tattoo her name on his body, and that woman isn’t me. She never will be.

He drops his pants. His cock is hard in front of him, the barbell glinting, and I shove the name out of my head because I’m the one tied to his bed about to be fucked. I’m the one who has him now.

He climbs between my legs. His hands grip my thighs and push them wide. His fingers find the base of the plug.

“I can’t wait to watch your pretty face while I stretch this ass to fit me.” He pulls the plug out slowly. The stretch and release makes me moan. “And you’re going to take every inch.”

He lubes his cock and presses the head against my hole. My body knows the stretch now, but he’s thicker than the bigger plug, and the barbell is only going to make it more intense.

“Beg Daddy to fuck this ass.” He teases my hole, poking the head in and out. “Show Daddy what a good little slut you are.”

“Please.” I know it’s going to hurt, but my pride is gone and I’m a whore for this man. If a good little slut is what he wants, then I’m all he’ll ever need. “Please fuck my ass, Daddy. I need it.”

“That’s my good girl.” He pushes in. The barbell drags against my rim and my entire body lights up. I cry out and yank against the ropes. The restraint makes everything sharper because I can’t grab him, can’t push away, can’t do anything but take what I begged for.

“Fuck.” His voice is tight, his hands gripping my thighs hard enough to bruise. “Even after that plug, this ass is still so fucking tight for me.”

He eases in deeper, and it burns. I push my hips down against him because I refuse to be the girl who can’t handle him. I want every inch. I want to prove that no one else could take him like this, and some fucked-up part of me needs to see his face as much as he wants to see mine.

“Look at you.” He watches me push back onto his cock. “Greedy little girl. Begging for Daddy’s dick in your ass and then trying to take more.”

“Give me all of it.” My voice is strained but I mean every word. “I can take all of you.”

He pushes the rest of the way in, and his hips press against my ass. He’s buried inside me, and the fullness is beyond anything else. Nothing comes close to how it feels to have his pierced cock filling my ass while I’m tied to his bed. The barbell presses against something deep that sends heat through my whole body. The fullness isn’t just pressure anymore. It’s a pleasure so intense I can hardly breathe.