Page 19 of His to Watch
"That's it," he encourages as my hips begin to rock against his mouth. "Let go for Daddy. Let me taste how much you want me."
His tongue flattens, providing perfect pressure exactly where I need it. My climax builds rapidly, coiling tight in my lower belly, my thighs trembling in his grip.
"Such a good girl," he praises, sliding one thick finger into me while maintaining the rhythm of his tongue. "So responsive. So perfect."
The praise pushes me over the edge. I come with a cry that echoes through the climate-controlled room, my body arching off the felt surface, my hands gripping his hair too tightly. He doesn't seem to mind, continuing his gentle ministrations until the last aftershock subsides.
When I can focus again, I find him looking up at me with such naked adoration that it steals my breath. No one has ever looked at me like that—like I'm precious, essential, perfect in every way.
He gathers me against his chest, one large hand cradling the back of my head. "I'd never let anyone hurt you. Never let anyone take you from me."
The fierce protection in his voice should alarm me—it's too intense, too absolute for what should be a casual encounter. But I find myself melting into it, craving it, needing the safety of his possession like I've never needed anything before.
I'm becoming addicted to him—to his protection, his possession, his praise. To the way he makes me feel simultaneously safe and on fire. To the darkly possessive words that should offend me but instead make me wet and willing.
And I don't want to be cured.
twelve
. . .
Jerald
The false alarm has passed,but it's lit a fire in my blood that won't extinguish. The primitive part of my brain—the part that saw a threat and immediately moved to protect what's mine—is still in overdrive, demanding I stake my claim more permanently. Make it unmistakable. Unbreakable. I just ate her pussy and now Tatianna sits on the felt-covered table, looking up at me with those big trusting eyes, her legs dangling over the edge, my shirt barely covering her used pussy. She has no idea what she does to me—how the sight of her like this, rumpled and marked and filled with my seed, makes me want to howl with satisfaction. But it's not enough. Not yet. The threat, even a false one, reminded me how easily she could be taken from me. I need more. Need to bind her to me in the most primitive way possible.
"Come here," I growl, helping her down from the table, steadying her when her legs wobble beneath her.
She looks up at me questioningly, but follows without hesitation as I lead her from the climate-controlled room back into the main exhibition space. The museum feels different now—less like a workplace and more like the site of our claiming.Every corner, every gallery, marked by our scent, our sounds, our connection.
I guide her to the Hall of Gems and Minerals, where towering glass display cases house sparkling specimens from around the world. The cases themselves are massive—eight feet tall at least, reinforced with steel frames, designed to be unbreakable, immovable. Perfect.
"Jerald?" she questions softly as I position her in front of a case containing a massive amethyst geode, its purple crystals catching the emergency lights like frozen flames.
"Not Jerald," I remind her, crowding her against the glass, caging her between my body and the unyielding surface. "What do you call me?"
Her lips part, her pupils dilating as understanding dawns. "Daddy," she whispers, the word sending fresh heat straight to my groin.
"That's right," I praise, one hand tangling in her hair, the other sliding beneath my shirt she's wearing to find her bare ass. "And what are you?"
"Your little girl," she responds without hesitation, her voice breathy with anticipation.
"Mine," I emphasize, pressing my growing hardness against her soft belly. "You're mine forever, little girl—Daddy's gonna keep filling you until you're round with my baby."
A small moan escapes her at my words, her body melting against mine despite the multiple rounds we've already had. I spin her around to face the display case, pressing her front against the cool glass, her cheek flattened against the surface as I kick her feet apart with my boot.
"Hands on the glass," I command, waiting until she complies before continuing. "Keep them there."
She nods, palms pressed flat against the display case, her breath fogging the glass in rapid little puffs. I yank the shirtup to her waist, exposing her perfect ass and pussy to my gaze. Even in the dim light, I can see my seed glistening on her thighs, marking her as thoroughly used.
But not thoroughly enough. Not yet.
I free myself from my pants again, my cock springing forward, impossibly hard despite having emptied myself inside her multiple times already. The sight of her positioned before me—submissive, waiting, mine—makes me throb with renewed need.
"Look at you," I growl, running a finger through her folds, finding her still wet, still ready. “So beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.”
"Yes," she agrees, her voice small but certain. "For you, Daddy."
I line myself up, pressing the head of my cock against her entrance, teasing us both. “It’s not enough. I need to put more cum inside you. I’m crazed for you, little girl.”
