Page 19 of Your Daddy Does It Better
I laugh as I sprint through the trees until I’m halted mid-jump by strong arms. I’m whipped around and come face to face with Bryce. He looks frightening with his flared nostrils and dilated pupils. He smirks and shoves me roughly against the nearest tree. The blood-stained knife he used to kill Paul slices through my t-shirt before he wraps my wrists in one large hand.
“Looks like the wolf caught you, Rabbit.”
He pulls my arms above my head, binds my wrists with the tattered t-shirt, and ties it around the tree trunk. He kicks my bare feet apart with his steel-toe boots. I find his footwear oddly sexy, particularly on him, since he’s an upper west-side man who wears Italian loafers and expensive tailored designer suits. Bryce in the forest, wild and primitive, does things to my lady bits I can’t rationalize.
He trails his nose up my neck before he nips at my earlobe. “You smell good enough to eat, and I’m a starved man, Rabbit.”
A moan escapes my lips before I can stop it, revealing my need for his touch.
His hand moves to my throat, and his fingers tighten. Fear takes over, but I keep silently whispering that it’s Bryce and I’m okay. “I won’t give up, Rabbit. If you want me to stop, you’re going to have to fight.”
I tug my arms, and the t-shirt tears, which seems odd. I’m confident that if Bryce wanted me to stay put, I’d never be able to free myself. I push off the tree, and he stumbles back.Bravery takes hold, and I launch myself at him, gripping his salt-and-pepper hair and yanking his head back. I’m not sure what’s come over me as I dip my head and bite his shoulder.
“Fuck,” he groans. My scalp stings as he pulls my head’s pulled back. “That’s it, baby. Show Daddy what you’ve got.”
I dig my fingernails into the flesh of his neck, and the bark of the tree trunk rips into my back as he shoves me against it again.
Bryce presses the knife in his hand against my throat and smiles. “Remember your safe word?”
I nod, and before I can say anything, Bryce takes my bottom lip between his teeth and bites, filling my mouth with the metallic taste of blood. The pain doesn’t register because I can only focus on his hard penis pushing against me and my desire to feel him inside me. I score my nails down his back, breaking the skin.
He squeezes my breasts roughly before focusing on my nipples. Gripping them between his fingers, he pinches and then pulls them away from my body. I scream as the pain is unbearable. The more I yell into the night, the rougher he is with them. Panic rises in me, and I wonder if he’ll pull them off. It’s a game of chicken. Will he stop before I say my safe word?
“Good girl,” he says just as I can’t take anymore.
His hand moves from my nipples to fist my hair. He turns me and pushes me down. I tense a little when the tip of his dick pushes against my exposed pussy, not out of fear but in pure desperation to have him fuck me.
“Tell me what you want, Isla.”
“What?”
A hard slap against my ass. When I don’t answer, he slaps me again and then again. I moan and push my ass against him.
“Look at you, Rabbit. Begging Daddy to punish you like a dirty little slut.”
That does it. My vagina is dripping like a damn faucet. I’m embarrassed about being this wet. Being called a slut would have disgusted me a day ago. I would have wanted to shrivel and die. But when Bryce says it, I believe I’m beautiful and want more.
“Call me that again,” I pant.
Another slap on my ass. “Call you what?”
I swallow my pride and decide to ask for what I want for the first time in my life. “S-slut. Call me a slut. I-I like when you say it.”
ChapterSeventeen
BRYCE
Fuck! I didn’t mean to call her a slut, but it slipped out. I didn’t call her that to be disrespectful cause Isla is anything but a slut. She’s beautiful and strong. Perfect. But hearing her beg me to say it again makes me want to degrade her and make her cum so many times that her mind goes numb.
“You want Daddy’s cock in your whore cunt, don’t you?”
She nods, but that’s not good enough. I pull her hair, forcing her head back. “No nodding. Be a good girl and tell me exactly what you want.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers.
Gripping her hips, I ram into her in one thrust. She’s so fucking wet, so warm. The sensation of her soft flesh under my hands is like a narcotic pumping through my veins, driving me further into the depths of addiction. Nothing seems to matter but her and this moment.
“You feel so good, baby. So wet and perfect.”
