Page 109 of The Vigilant

I jerked, pleasure igniting on the accelerant of pain he’d just levied on my ass.

“I want you, little wasp, in spite of my guilt,” Tynan groaned, and he pushed his long middle finger inside me. “I want to take care of you, in spite of my conscience.”

My eyes rolled back, the whole of my body suddenly seeming to be held together by his one finger. His one single, long, thick finger.

“Tynan…” I couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think—couldn’t do anything but want this man.

He started to stroke me, and coherent thought crumbled.

“It’s not retribution I’m going to find in your sweet cunt but eternal damnation.”

Oh god.

I whimpered and shook as he pushed another finger inside me, savoring the stretch and then gasping as he worked them in slow, purposeful strokes against my front wall and that tight bundle of nerves buried there. And my body, which had me convinced all week that it had gone numb, suddenly came back to life with the furious, gnawing hunger for release.

With every stroke, my body churned for more. It raced for what it had been denied, panicked that it would be left bereft again. I knew better. I knew he wasn’t letting me go this time, and I wished I could convince it to savor his touch. To slow down. To not ravage me from the inside out.

I let out a strangled cry, his fingers working a kind of dark magic inside my sex.

“Did you hate me enough to get yourself off these last few nights?” he ground out. “Did you curse my name even as it made you come?”

My heart beat erratically against his thigh. “No,” I choked out, having nothing left to obscure the truth. “I couldn’t…”

He didn’t bother to hide his relief, nor could he hide how my answer made him even harder. And my reward was another delicious drag of his fingers over my G-spot.

“Because you wanted me to take care of you?” His voice trembled.

“Yes,” I panted, feeling another rush of heat leak onto his fingers.

“Because you wanted to come all over Daddy’s cock?”

I sobbed. I couldn’t control it. I wanted him so bad—ached for him so bad and had worked so hard to convince myself I’d never had him that now, all my weapons tumbled to the ground, revealing that they were nothing more than the broken pieces of my heart.

“Yes,” I choked out and tried to push myself harder onto his fingers. “Yes, Daddy. Please.”

“Fuck,” Tynan groaned, and then the twist of his fingers was gone.

I wanted to cry out at the loss, but before I could, I felt myself lifted, easily—carefully—into his arms and then set on my knees on the bed. At first, I faced him, his hand cupping my face and holding my forehead to his, a potent dose of tenderness amid the swirling lust.

“Forgive me,” Tynan begged low, his voice hoarse, his warm breath teasing my lips. “Forgive me for not saving him…and for forgive me for trying and failing to feel guilty for the way I need you.”

A small cry tore from my chest, and then I started to shake my head, my strung-up body unable to contain the surge of emotions.

“Never be sorry for that,” I told him thickly, tears welling hotly in the corners of my eyes. “Never.”

“Sutton…”

“Please, Daddy,” I begged, tipping my face forward, my lips in search of his. “I want you to take care of me. I need you to take care of me. I need you…please…”

The sound he made was like the heavens inside him had torn in two, and then his mouth crushed to mine. His tongue was brutal in the way it claimed the entirety of my mouth as though he wanted to make me swear to those words in blood. But it wasn’t blood I tasted but tears. The healing salt of relief and desperation thrown on the fires of lust.

“You’re mine now, little wasp,” he rumbled, his lips burning a path along my cheek to my ear. His hand curled in my wet hair, tipping my head back to add, “Mine.”

And then he spun me—manhandled me—so I was in front of him with my back to his chest. The steady rise and fall of the solid heat of him was almost as impressive as the hard length that pushed against my ass.

“Bend forward,” he ordered, releasing my hair to put his palm firmly on my back, guiding me to comply. “I want you on your knees for me, little wasp. Your red ass gleaming as your tight cunt takes my big, pierced cock.”

Some kind of sound ended up strangled in the center of my throat as I slid one knee and then the other onto the mattress and then bent forward onto my elbows, my heart racing as I offered him a spread view of everything he wanted.

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