Page 80 of Black Castle

“If I had known I would meet you,” he continues, his finger ghosting over the slick heat between her thighs now. “I would have gotten something special.” His teeth scrape against the delicate skin below her ear, next to where his previous marks bloom. “Something in exchange for an autograph.”

Her stomach lurches.

His finger presses into her clit just enough to make her whimper, to make her body betray her completely.

“After all,” he muses, dragging his thumb over her swollen clit in a slow, tortuous stroke. “an autograph from the daughter is just as good as the father, right?”

Her lips parts in a gasp, her body trembling under his touch as his fingers plunge into her tight cunt. “Tell me, ladybird,” he pumps into her, his pace slow and deliberate, a wicked smile on his lips as he watches her unravel under him. “Will you sigh in your father’s place for me?”

“Are you afraid, ladybird?” his thrusts pick a little pace, his lips grazing over her swollen nipple, “that I might tell your little secret to the world?”

Fear wracks her spine, her body jerking against his as he pumps his fingers harder into her heat.

“Don’t worry,” he brushes a hand over her jaw. “Your secret is safe with me.”

His lips skim the line of her jaw, his voice silk over steel as his thumb slides inside her, teasing her from the inside out. “You’re one insatiable little slut, you know. Hours later, and look at you, still dripping for me. I bet you’d swallow around my cock again if I let you.”

“Lucan—”

“My fingers are inside you, ladybird,” he growls, his teeth scraping below her throat before sinking in. “Call me by my name.”

Her hand fists the sheet above her head, nails digging into the fabric. She doesn’t want to say it. Doesn’t want to build familiarity. Calling him by his name feels dangerous, like an invitation she isn’t ready to extend.

“I—I really don’t feel comfortable with that,” she manages, breath hitching as he adds a third finger, pumping harder into her.

“Why is that?” he asks, kissing his way down her chest, his lips leaving possession in the form of bruised skin and half-moon marks from his teeth.

“I don’t know you,” she gasps when his fingers curl inside her, thrusts turning erratic, deeper. “I don’t know if all strangers by their name.”

His breath fans hot against her breast, and she barely registers his wicked smirk before his teeth graze her nipple. “Oh really?” he muses, flicking his tongue over the tender peak. “Is it your mother or your stepmother that taught you that? Did she also tell you not to bounce on a stranger’s cock?”

“Oh my—”

She doesn’t get to finish. He rips his fingers from her and flips her onto her stomach so fast her breath leaves her in a startled gasp.

He yanks her hips up, positions her on all fours. And before she can brace for what’s coming, his cock is there—stretching her open, splitting her apart.

A sharp cry rips from her throat.

It doesn’t matter how many times he’s taken her tonight. It doesn’t matter that she should be used to it. He’s big. Too big. She feels like he’s going to ruin her from the inside out.

“Oh, god,” she whimpers, hands scrambling for leverage, gripping on the sheet as he slams into her from behind.

“Not god, ladybird. Me.” His voice is a guttural snarl as his fingers close around her throat, wrenching her head back until her dazed eyes lock onto his. Black, empty, and consuming. “Call me by my fucking name. Stop squeezing around my cock and calling some guy I don’t even fucking know.”

Her mouth parts, but her words collapse beneath the force of his thrusts, her cries blending into the obscene, wet sounds filling the room. He’s relentless—pulling out, leaving her empty for a heartbeat, only to slam back in, harder, deeper, tearing through every barrier.

His grunts of pleasure echo around her, every inch of his thick cock dragging along her walls, filling her up until there’s no space left for anything but him.

“Please, don’t stop.” Her voice is broken, shattered between pleasure and overstimulation, her entire body trembling when his hand slips beneath her waist, fingers rolling her swollen clit.

Her legs quake, hands slipping against the sheets, her mind unraveling as moans pour from her lips, a desperate, delirious mess. She’s too far gone to even realize whose name she’s chanting.

His fingers dig into her throat, squeezing just enough to remind her who owns her pleasure. “If you want me to keep fucking this tight little pussy of yours, you know what to do.” He strokes her clit again, watching her jolt against him. “Call my name. I need the world to know who’s between your legs. I need them to know who owns this fucking pussy.”

She lets out a whimper instead, clenching around his cock to hold him in place when he begins to pull out. But she really doesn’t want to call him Zev or whatever the hell he introduced himself as.

“Say my name,” she gasps loudly when he thrust roughly into her unannounced.

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