Page 22 of Claimed By Daddy
"Goddamn this perfect little pussy," he groans, his gruff, gravelly voice thick with lust. "You love letting Daddy do bad things to you, don't you, pretty baby?"
My inner walls clench around him in response, a silent scream of pleasure as he hits that tender spot inside me again and again, the one that makes stars burst to life behind my eyelids. The room spins with the intensity of the moment, my body betraying my act every time I arch into him, seeking more of his heat, another of his touches.
"Such a good little girl," he murmurs, tracing a rough hand along the curve of my hip, his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake. "Sleeping so soundly while Daddy fucks you full."
His words sear through me, hot as a brand, and I can't help but squirm against him. He catches me, one hand moving to hold me steady, his grip firm.
"Fucking love this," he whispers, igniting an inferno within me. I love it too—every touch, every stroke, every word he says. "But you're not just a pretty little thing for me to fuck while you're asleep. You want my cum inside of you, don't you? You want me to fill up your belly with my seed."
My heart pounds frantically at his filthy words, desire spiraling higher. God, yes. I want all of him. Every single part of him.
I grind down onto him, my body answering him even when my voice remains silent. It's as though he's unlocked some part of me that I never knew existed—some part that craves his possession, his intensity.
His pounds into me, driving every breath from my body as he claims me in fierce, possessive strokes that make my toes curl and my head spin.
"You're so tight for me," he groans. "Daddy's going to make sure you remember who you belong to every time you try to sit down tomorrow. You'll be sore and won't even remember why." His lips brush the shell of my ear. "But I'll know, little girl. When your little panties are wet and you're all sticky when you wake up, I'll know it's my cum dripping from that pretty little hole."
His filthy words send a jolt straight through my core, liquefying me. Pleasure blooms in waves, crashing over me again and again. There's no room for pretense or play as I shatter. There's only sensation, infinite and exquisite.
His low growl of satisfaction vibrates through me as he buries himself deep inside me, following me over the edge. His cock jerks as his seed splashes inside me in hot pulses that leave me moaning his name into the pillow until I'm gasping for breath.
For long moments after, we simply lay there, trembling and tangled up together. And then Carver groans, placing a soft kiss against my shoulder as he rolls us carefully, still buried deep inside me.
"If you keep letting me play like this, I'll take everything you have, little angel," he warns, his voice a heated murmur against my skin.
"Maybe you should," I breathe, the first words I've spoken as I turn to face him. His eyes lock onto mine, the gunmetal gray depths swirling with something fierce and possessive. "I like it when Daddy is a bad man, doing bad things to me."
His roar reverberates through the room, the sound of a man on the edge of something vast and infinite. Something that doesn't scare him at all.
The sound has a joyous laugh burbling from my lips.
He hears it and shakes his head, his eyes soft.
"Dangerous little girl," he mutters without heat.
Before I can respond, his arms are around me, lifting me from the bed in a way that makes me feel weightless, priceless. He cradles me to his chest, striding from the room.
"Shower time, little angel," he says, a possessive glint in his eyes and a thread in his voice that leave no room for argument.
I rest my head on his shoulder, perfectly content to let him take me where he will. He carries me into the bathroom, juggling me easily as he gets the shower going. Within minutes, steam billows around us.
He holds me carefully as he steps into the tiny shower. Hot water cascades over us, pulling a moan from my lips.
There's barely any room to work with, but somehow, Carver makes it work. His hands are everywhere as he gently lathers me up with soap, leaving me slick and tingling."Fucking love this," he grunts, brushing his fingers across my belly. "It's so damn soft and sweet."
I don't have to ask to know he means it. I feel the truth every time he touches me. My body is far from perfect, but in his eyes, it's a masterpiece worthy of the most ardent devotion.
I tilt my head back, closing my eyes as he traces the curves he's claimed as his own, worshiping them with a gentleness that should seem foreign on him but fits him like a glove.
"You like that?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, sending another thrill through me.
"More than you know," I whisper back, leaning into his touch, craving the contrast of his calloused hands on my sensitive skin.
He kisses me gently and then rinses the suds from my body, ensuring every last bubble is gone. When the last one swirls down the drain, those gray eyes meet mine, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"I like getting you dirty, little angel," he rumbles. "But goddamn if cleaning you up isn't heaven on earth."
My heart flutters at his words, and I find myself falling even deeper for this beautiful, rough man.