Page 35 of Owned

She took a shuddering breath and the words came out in a rush. “I need to come.”

“Good girl,” I said, unable to keep the thread of intense satisfaction that wound through me from coloring my voice. “But that’s not all is it?

She stared up at me, all the fight gone out of her now and leaving her soft and pliant, and so fucking desperate it almost hurt. I’d only have to give her one touch and she’d go off like a firework, I could see it in her eyes.

“N-No,” she whispered. “I…I need you to…t-touch me. Please.”

Christ, the way she said ‘please’…

Keep going. You want to. You want her obsessed with you and no one but you.

I gritted my teeth. No, this wasn’t about what I wanted. This was for her, a one time thing. A wedding present, even.

“Lift your skirt,” I said.

Her hands were shaking as she gripped the hem and pulled it slowly up above her knees.

The flush in her cheeks had moved down her neck, beneath the white cotton of her shirt to where her pulse beat rapidly at the hollow of her throat. She was breathing very fast.

“Higher,” I ordered.

She shivered, but again there was no hesitation as she pulled her skirt up further, exposing the luscious curves of her pale thighs. I didn’t look, even though my cock was now harder than iron. I had myself in a grip as ruthless as the grip I had on her hair. It was her who was breaking, not me.

Her pupils had dilated hugely, making her eyes seems black, and her gaze clung to mine as if she was lost at sea and I was the lighthouse guiding her home.

Perfect.

“Spread your legs, beauty,” I said. “Show me what color your panties are.”

She did and this time I allowed myself a glance down between her parted thighs, catching a glimpse of white panties with a shadow of dark curls beneath the cotton.

The blood in my veins beat harder, the darkness roaring in my head.

Jesus Christ, why was I at the limits of my control already and I hadn’t even touched her? And why her? Out of all the many, many women I’d been with, why did it have to be her who’d gotten under my skin so badly?

Was it just the forbidden nature of it? Her youth and innocence? Was I really that much of a fucking cliche? The aging, jaded playboy hard for a girl half my age and who’d once been my stepdaughter. My father would be laughing in his fucking grave.

“Are you a virgin?” I asked, not that there was much point in asking a question I already knew the answer to, but I wanted her to say it. I wanted her to be clear.

“Yes,” she whispered, the color in her cheeks deepening into crimson.

Fuck. She’s all yours.

The beast growled in satisfaction, making every part of me tighten in response. That fucking monster was Neanderthal through and through, and it liked that she was a virgin. It was turned on by it.

‘You have to get them when they’re young. You don’t want another man’s leftovers.’

Charles Blackwood’s smug voice whispered in my head, taunting me, but I crushed it, just as I crushed that satisfaction. I was not going to indulge it, not one fucking bit of it.

I gave her hair a tug, watching the flames leapt in her eyes in response. Oh, she liked that. She liked it a lot. “I’m going to make you come now,” I murmured. “But I don’t want you to move, not one fucking inch.”

She trembled, her gaze still glued to mine as I reached down between her thighs. Then I lightly slid one finger over the damp fabric of her panties. She was hot and very wet, the cotton soaked through, and I wanted to close my hand in a fist and rip the material off of her. Bare that perfect little pussy of hers.

But I didn’t. Instead, I pressed down very gently and almost the second I did, her thighs squeezed together on my hand, her whole body gathering tight as the orgasm took her. She opened her mouth to cry out, but I covered it with mine even though I knew I shouldn’t, unable to resist tasting the sweetness of her release.

And it was sweet, so fucking sweet… But a taste was all I allowed myself. As her shivers stopped, I lifted my mouth and when her thighs relaxed, I removed my hand.

Her long silky lashes had fallen, veiling her, blue-violet eyes, and her full red lips had parted, her cheeks deeply flushed from the effects of the orgasm I’d given her. And no matter how hard I tried to ignore it this time, the satisfaction of the beast wound tighter and tighter. Was I the first man to touch her? The first make her come? The very first?

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