Page 33 of Desperate Measures
Yasmina
Jafar grabs me behind my knees and drags me to the edge of the bed. I fight, need spiking every time he overpowers me. He flips me onto my stomach and jerks me half off the mattress so my toes barely touch the ground. He kicks my feet wide and steps between my thighs before I can close them. I curse and wriggle, but he’s got me pinned by the back of the neck before I can move an inch.
“Sloppy, baby girl. You gave me more of a fight last time.”
“Fuck you!”
He rips my dress up the back, baring me from the waist down, and delivers a stinging slap to first one cheek and then the other. “The proper response is ‘Fuck you, Daddy.’”
“Fuck you, Daddy.” It doesn’t come out as sharp as I’d like. Instead, it’s dangerously close to a moan. In my current position, I’m helpless. I can’t touch the floor enough to lever myself away, not with my legs spread like this. Not with his hand on the back of my neck, pressing down just enough that I can’t escape.
“You’ve been bad, baby girl.” He delivers another stinging slap to my ass, the spike of pain shooting directly to my clit. “I should put you over my knee for that alone.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Do it.?1
His dark laugh is my only answer. “You keep telling me no, but your pussy is telling me yes.” He shoves two fingers into me, not easing me into it. I cry out. I can’t help it. Just like I can’t help spreading my legs wider yet and arching my back to offer myself to him. To allow him deeper. His thumb presses against my ass, a pressure that makes me freeze on instinct. “Do you know what I thought about when I saw you walking in the halls of your father’s house?”
Oh god.
“I don’t want to know.” I should have realized how it would go when I decided on playing this way, should have anticipated. I shove hard against the mattress, but he easily keeps me pinned in place, his low voice stripping me bare even as his fingers possess me in the most intimate way possible.
“How many times did we talk, baby girl? Every time you pretended you weren’t seeking me out, that this isn’t what you wanted.”?2
“No. I didn’t want this.” Yes, yes, I did.
He still hasn’t moved his hand, still hasn’t done anything but apply more pressure to my ass. “You were asking for it.”
“No!”
“Yes.” He pushes a third finger into me. “Every time you had to get the last word, every time you walked away from me and twitched that ass in my direction, this is what you wanted.”
“Liar.”
His low chuckle has my toes curling. Just like that, he withdraws his fingers, and I can’t help a whimper of protest. Jafar steps closer to the bed, and then I can feel his cock through his slacks. His weight presses me down against the mattress, almost, almost, giving my clit enough friction. “Who’s the real liar, baby girl? You know what I think? I think you wanted me to drag you into his office. To shove up your skirt and rip off your panties.”
“No,” I whisper. I can’t help it. I writhe, my hips seeking the friction I need to get off.
He shoves a hand between me and the mattress, the touch against my clit nearly sending me over the edge. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t apply the pressure I need. The new position puts his lips directly against my ear, and I can feel his words rumbling through his chest against my back. “You wanted me to take it, to bend his virgin daughter over his desk and shove my cock into her tight little cunt. That way, you don’t have to admit it. You can still be a good girl instead of the little slut we know you are.”
I gasp, my body going so tight, I might orgasm from his words alone. I almost moan before I remember the game. It takes me two tries to wet my throat enough to find words. “I am a good girl.”
“You, baby girl, are a little slut.” He nips my earlobe. “You know how I know that?”
“How?” I whisper.
“I know that because you’re so desperate to grind against my fingers, your pussy is drenched. You want me to do it, to force you so you can keep pretending when we both know the truth.”
I roll my hips, the pressure of his fingers making me bite my bottom lip hard. “What’s the truth?”
“That I can fuck your mouth, your pussy, your ass, and you’ll love every second of it.” Another nip to my earlobe. “That I can pull three people in here at random and let them fuck you however they feel like, and even as you tell yourself you don’t want it, that I took away your choice, you’ll come again and again and keep lifting your hips in invitation for more. That you can’t get enough.”
I lose my battle of resistance. I writhe, grinding against his fingers. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Meg will love licking that pretty pussy of yours. She’ll love doing it even more while you ride Hook’s cock and another man fucks your mouth.”
I don’t know who those people are, not really. They’re strangers to me. It doesn’t seem to matter. All I can do is imagine two cocks filling me, another mouth on my clit, and Jafar watching it all. Directing it all. I fist the comforter and roll my hips harder, trying to find the right angle. His hand shifts beneath me, and I freeze as he pinches my clit. Hard.
“So wanton.” The devil is Jafar’s voice in my ear, full of sin and promised pleasure. It might cost me my soul, but what is a soul in comparison with a night’s pleasure?
