Page 111 of The Vigilant

Was it only three? Was it possible it was only three?

“Good girl.” His praise made me exhale in relief. My reward—another inch and another bar pushed inside me, and I stiffened. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He breathed like he was in pain, too. “Don’t stop rubbing.”

My hand jolted back into action, swirling around my clit with a frantic kind of rhythm.

“How many?”

“Four.” I was sure this time. Breathless but sure.

“Four…”

“Four, Daddy.” My voice cracked.

“God,” he groaned low. “You have no fuckin’ idea how perfect you look taking Daddy’s fat cock. How good your sweet little cunt looks all wet and swollen around me.”

The pleasure running through me suddenly surged, like into a storm. The pain from the pressure was either gone or I just no longer cared because the sound of him losing control made me lose mine.

I felt my core start to clench, my muscles greedy for more as they worked me even wetter.

“Fuck, little wasp.” He sounded destroyed. “You’re practically pulling me into you.”

I let out a cry. “Yes, Daddy.”

With a fractured groan, he pushed forward and bottomed out inside me. For a single, blissful second, I felt nothing but the extreme fullness of him inside me. The kiss of his cock against my womb. The indent of his piercings into my muscles. The hard heat of his length stretching me to the brink.

“Six,” I breathed out, a small, victorious smile tugging the corner of my lips.

Air whooshed from his lungs, his voice then sounding like he was in more discomfort than I was.

“All six,” he rumbled, and I felt his torso tip forward. “All of me.” And then his lips pressed a kiss to the middle of my back, the brand just as searing as if his mouth had touched the deepest part of my soul.

“Please, Daddy.” I shuddered, my fingers still toying with my clit that seemed stubbornly waiting for his cock to move before allowing me to climb any higher.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised low as he straightened, his hands finding purchase on the side of my hips. “I’m going to fuck you now until you’re coming all over my cock, little wasp,” he ground out. “And then Daddy’s going to come onto your beautiful back—onto your scorpion—because all of you is mine now. Your beauty and your beast.”

At any other moment, his words alone would’ve torn me asunder, but the strength of them was toppled by the power of his actions. He drew back and then tunneled his cock in again.

“Yes,” I cried. I begged. I touched myself and arched into his thrusts, mindless for more of whatever he would give me. “Please, yes.”

“You’re mine now,” he growled through tight teeth, his hands having to tighten—to bruise my skin to hold me steady against his drives.

“Yes,” I sobbed, my arms and legs straining and clawing at the tension that barricaded the torrent of pleasure from taking me under.

He cursed and drove harder into me, my tight heat spreading and clenching each time he filled me, welcoming the strain on my muscles—welcoming the sensations of his piercings as they played the front wall of my pussy like an erogenous instrument.

“Who do you belong to?” he demanded, shunting faster like he knew my release was coming.

“You, Daddy.” My voice was a broken mess of want and submission. Tears streaked my face, and I didn’t even care that I was a sobbing mess underneath him, a puppet to the pleasure he wrecked between my thighs.

“Who?”

“You.” I gasped as the intensity built, chasing my release like a hunter.

“Who?”

“You.” Eachyoudrove him faster. Harder. Deeper. And whipped me over the edge of release.

I came. And for once, I was both the hunter and the prey. I screamed so loud it felt like my lungs had worked into my throat, my body shaking and convulsing and ultimately failing under the wave of pleasure that went through me.

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