Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35291 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35291 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Mine.
The word pounds through my skull like a war drum. No more toys. No more barriers. No more pretending I'm not going to consume every inch of her. When she touched me before the dance, it felt like my DNA splintered.
The memory of a broken doll, of IVs, oxygen and stitches, flashed through my brain, but it felt different. The other times I was too big, too strong, too dangerous. I hurt people. But it didn’t apply to her. It never will. A new trust in myself took over and I knew I would claim what’s mine. Hot and hard, wet and screaming.
"Last chance to run, princess." I swallow through the tightness in my throat, remembering her scent from the toy. "Because once I get my hands on you, you're not leaving this garage the same way you came in."
She backs toward my workbench, never breaking eye contact. "I told you. I want to remember everything."
Remember. There’s that fucking word again. Like this is temporary.
Over my dead fucking body.
"You want the real me? Fine. Get on that workbench. Now."
She hops up without hesitation, legs spreading automatically to make room for me between them.
"Good girl." I step between her thighs, my hands spanning her waist. "You know what you are to me?"
"What?" Her voice is breathless. Needy.
"You're mine. My responsibility. My obsession." I lean in until our foreheads touch. "My dirty little secret that I'm never giving up."
Her breath catches. "Beau..."
"That's not my name right now."
"Daddy," she corrects, and the word goes straight to my cock. "I'm yours, Daddy."
Fuck. Hearing her say it while I can finally touch her, finally claim her properly, nearly makes me come in my jeans again like a fucking teenager. I have to remind myself to breathe through it. To slow down before I lose myself entirely.
I grab the hem of my shirt she's wearing over sweatpants, and drag it over her head. Perfect pale skin and the points of nipples tighten under her bikini top in the cool air.
"Jesus Christ," I breathe. "You're so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at you."
The hunger clawing at my veins is relentless. Every inch of me has been aching for her since the moment I knew she existed. Years of bottled-up desire is now boiling into its own wildfire. I want to bury myself so deep inside her, claim every inch until there’s nothing left but us. The thought of her untouched body trembling beneath me makes me snap my jaw shut. This won’t be some fleeting fuck. She’ll remember this like an earthquake. But if I don’t curb the beast rising in my throat, I’ll devour her raw.
My mistake was thinking I could wait.
She reaches for my shirt, but I catch her wrists. "No. I touch you. You take what Daddy gives you."
Her pupils dilate. "Yes, sir."
My hands map every inch of her. Throat, collarbones, the soft curve of her breasts. When I thumb her nipples, she arches into my touch with a gasp that makes my cock throb. Her virginity is a loaded weapon, and every glance I’ve stolen since she walked into my life has only fanned the flames. My jeans are straining so tight it hurts, precum beading at the tip of my cock like proof that she’s got me unraveled. I’m a wreck, a ticking time bomb, because this girl just… does things to me. Things I can’t even begin to explain.
"So responsive," I murmur, leaning down to taste her skin. "My perfect little girl."
"Please," she whispers, and I can hear the desperation. "I need..."
"What do you need?"
"You. All of you. Everything you've been holding back."
“Do you understand what comes next?” I rasp, fingers sinking into the string of her bikini top to free those hard little peaks begging for my mouth. She smells like summer rain and ripe peaches, every tremor she fights only tightening the vise around my control.
She hesitates, and panic claws up my ribs.
“Do you understand that I’ll make you mine?” I clarify, teeth grazing the soft skin beneath her ear. “Pregnant with my child...”
Her eyes widen but she doesn’t look away. That defiance, mixed with vulnerability, hooks me like a fish on a line.
Something inside me snaps. The last thread of control finally breaks.
I strip her out of the sweatpants, leaving her in nothing but a tiny black thong on my workbench, surrounded by the tools of my trade. The contrast is obscene. This perfect, soft creature in my rough, masculine space. My tongue finds her nipple before she can answer, rolling it into a tight peak until her hips buck.
“Baby,” I groan against the wet heat of her skin.
“You’re… is this normal?” she whispers suddenly, cheeks flushing scarlet as she touches her lower lip between her teeth. “Am I supposed to feel… like this?”
“Baby girl, I… I don’t know. You’re the first woman I’ve ever done this with.” The confession drags out of me, and for a second I wonder if she’ll be disappointed, if she’ll wish she had a man with more experience.