Page 87 of Tamed

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Page 87 of Tamed

Love had killed my family and I wasn’t going anywhere near it.

Tension crawled through me, and I knew I’d ruined the moment of sweetness between us. But I couldn’t let her think that there would be more of those moments. I couldn’t let that warmth in my chest get any deeper.

“No,” I said. “No, I wouldn’t.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again and I couldn’t have said what she was thinking. Then strangely, the glitter of her anger faded, her frown easing.

She touched my cheek and then brushed her fingertips along the side of my jaw, where Ten had punched me. It ached. “Let me do something for you, Daddy,” she murmured. “Anything, just tell me what you need.”

Generous little girl. I’d been expecting her to argue not stroke my cheek and offer herself to me. “You heard what I said, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” She traced the line of my lower lip, her touch almost unbearably gentle.

“And you’re not bothered?”

“No. Why would I be?” Her hand curved behind my neck, her fingers threading through my hair as she urged my head down. “I don’t want anyone else,” she whispered. “I only want you, Daddy.” Then she pulled me down further until her lips met mine and she kissed me. It wasn’t a hungry kiss, it was sweet, so very sweet. And gentle too, her tongue beginning to explore my mouth, all tentative and hesitant.

It was so much like the kiss she’d given me in Arcadia that night, after we’d had sex and just before she’d walked away, that I actually had to catch my fucking breath.

There was a tenderness to it that I’d never experienced in my entire goddamned life, and if I’d had any sense, I would have pulled away. I would have ordered her to stop, to obey me, put her on her knees and taken her hard.

But I didn’t. I remained still, holding her against the window, not kissing her back and not moving, letting her kiss me so carefully, so gently. I’d never known a kiss could be so sweet. I could feel the inevitable hunger rise, dark and demanding, but I didn’t let it out. I wanted this. I’d thought I’d done everything there was to do sexually, but I hadn’t experienced this. Softness, tenderness. I shouldn’t want it, yet…

Her hands moved to my chest, stroking. “Let me take care of you, Daddy,” she murmured against my mouth. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Isabel….”

“Please.”

I found myself powerless to stop her as she made me let her back down onto the floor. Then she dealt with the condom herself before taking my hand and leading me over to the couch. She pushed at me, so I sat, and she knelt at my feet, between my knees.

She ran her hands up my thighs to my stomach, her fingers light and cool against my hot skin. I was getting hard again, and when her hand moved to grip my cock, I growled, but didn’t move.

Her head bent over me, her breath warm on my skin and my muscles tensed as her tongue touched the head of my dick, giving me a light lick. She did it again and I wanted to thrust into her mouth, but I didn’t. I kept still as she began a series of light licks and nips, and kisses. “You taste so good, Daddy,” she murmured. “I love sucking you.” Then she took me inside her hot mouth, one hand gripping me, the other stroking my stomach and my thighs. She was so gentle, touching me with care and a tenderness I’d never had from another person before. No, it had always been rough, always violent.

No one had touched me before as I mattered.

I should have ended things right then, thrust my fingers in her hair and wrapped the red silk of it around my wrist. Fucked her mouth until she cried, but again, I stayed still. And when she took that mouth away, I didn’t protest, I just sat there, hard and aching, need pulsing inside me as she found a condom and put it on me herself with those cool, light fingers.

Then she climbed into my lap, facing me, and eased herself down onto my aching cock. Her eyes had darkened, the slick heat of her pussy gripping me tight, and she put her hands on my chest and leaned forward, kissing me as she began to move. I could taste myself in her mouth, as well as the sweetness that was all her, as pure an aphrodisiac as there ever was, and then we were moving together, a slow rise and fall.

I settled my hands on her hips, not gripping tight, only holding her, but it wasn’t enough. I needed her skin against mine, so I slid my arms around her, pulling her close, turning the kiss hotter, more demanding.

I wanted this. I wanted her against me. I wanted her flavor in my mouth, her pussy wrapped around my cock, her cool hands on my skin, touching me gently.

I wanted Isabel, her brave, passionate, stubborn spirit. Her fire. Her generosity. Her caring nature. I wanted all of her, because for some reason, she wanted me. Despite there being nothing but a dead, bitter wasteland where my soul should be. Despite violence and force being all I knew. Despite how I’d told her that now she was mine, she would never be free.

I should have pushed her away, but I didn’t.

I held her closer, held her hard against me instead and I moved with her, slow and deep, pleasure building higher and higher, until at the very end I put my hand between her thighs and brushed her sensitive little clit, giving her that last bit of friction.

Then orgasm hit us both and she gasped into my mouth as the pleasure gripped me in a fist so tight, I couldn’t breathe.

“I love you,” I heard her say softly, before all thought was crushed beneath the weight of it. “I love you so much.”

25

Isabel




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