Page 25 of Kneeling for Daddy
It should be suffocating and terrifying, but it isn’t. It feels safe.Terrifyingly safe.
Back in the confines of our apartment, he finally lets his hand fall from me. He works the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one. But all I can see are his knuckles. They are split and raw—crusted with dried blood like the small gash above his left eyebrow. The ruined shirt sticks slightly to his skin where the stranger’s blood has dried. Tearing it away, he reveals the chiseled muscles beneath that have been marred by years of violence.
My chest tightens at the sight, and I swallow the lump in my throat. His battered appearance is because of me… and I don’t know whether to be afraid or honored.
“Sit,” I order, pointing at the couch as I stalk into the kitchen, pulling the small first-aid kit from underneath the sink and a clean dishcloth from the drawer.
He arches a golden brow, pulling at the freshly clotted cut above it, causing it to ooze again as I walk toward him. “Are you giving commands now, little pet?”
“Do you want me to clean you up or not?” I snap. His smirk is maddening, but he obeys, sprawling on the couch with all the lazy grace of a lion at rest. I try desperately to focus on the task at hand, struggling to ignore how broad his chest is bathed in the low light as I wipe the blood away.
When I take a seat on the coffee table across from him, he shifts just enough that his knee presses between my legs, forcing me to make room for him. I take his hand and lay it across my open palm. “This is probably going to hurt,” I warn, pressing the antiseptic-soaked cloth to his knuckles. He hisses between his teeth and withdraws his hand from mine slightly.
“Don’t be such a baby,” I mutter, pulling his hand back into my lap. “You brought this on yourself.”
“You are awfully fucking brave for a girl who cried into my shirt not less than twenty minutes ago.”
Heat flares across my face. “I wasn’t crying for you.”
“Liar.” I can hear the grin spreading across his face from the smug tone in his voice. Holding his hand tightly, I scrub harder at his bloodied knuckles, and he winces, though the glimmer inpale blue eyes is all amusement. “Careful,” he teases. “When you scrub through a vein and I bleed out on the couch, youwillhave to answer to my brothers.”
“You aresucha drama king,” I bite back, letting his hand fall from mine. Leaning forward, I dab gently at the cut above his eye and wipe away the blood staining his brow and the trail that trickled down his temple. “You didn’t have to go that far, Nik.” My voice fails me, passing over my lips at barely a whisper.
“Yes, I did,” he quickly retorts, his tone deep and curt. His hand closes around my wrist, holding me inches from his face. Nik’s eyes burn into mine, raw and unflinching. “Ani, you infuriate me more than anyone I have ever met. You crawl under my skin in ways I didn’t think possible. But you are my wife. You are mine. Do you hear me?” My lips part to speak, but only a soft sound escapes them. His grip loosens, and his thumb tenderly strokes the inside of my wrist. “And I do deplorable fucking things to protect what’s mine.”
He lifts his hand, catching my chin and holding my face up. “Nik,” I timidly exhale his name, and it’s his undoing. The final thread of restraint he’s been holding onto for the past few days snaps, and his mouth crashes against mine.
It’s not a kiss. It’s an invasion. Aclaim.
Nik hauls me into his lap without breaking the kiss until my legs are straddling his hips and my dress is sliding up my thighs.
Everything we’ve both been holding back explodes. Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, I claw at him to drag him closer.
“You hate me, remember?” he smugly rasps against my lips.
“Shut up,” I breathe, crashing into him with desperate hunger. With my fist in his hair, I pull hard enough to sting. Groaning into my mouth, he devours me like he can’t get enough. His hands roam down my back, gripping my ass, dragging me harder over the thick length suddenly straining against his pants. He grinds me over it and I moan into his mouth when he rubs it along my pussy.
In a blur, he flips me onto the couch beneath him, and my back sinks into the cushions. “I’m fucking tired of waiting for you to beg,” he growls, pinning my wrists above my head. He looms over me, staring down at me with his icy eyes full of fire. I arch into him, fighting against his hold even as my pussy betrays me. “I don’t need to hear it to know how badly you want this.”
Snapping, he lunges forward and sinks his teeth into my neck, painfully leaving marks I won’t be able to hide. His mouth travels up and down the length of my throat, his teeth grazing my skin as he bites and sucks at me until my heart is hammering so loud I swear it echoes throughout the apartment.
With my wrists firmly in one hand, he uses the other to shove my dress up to my waist, baring the thin lace of my panties. “So fucking pretty,” he gravelly whispers, gazing down at me as the backs of his fingers dust over my covered mound.
“Don’t look at me like?—”
“Like you’re mine?” he finishes for me, pressing his fingers firmly against the thin barrier separating him from my clit. “Because you are.” He rubs in a tight circle, and I can’t hold back the needy whimper that blows over my lips.
He pulls at the sheer fabric, and it tears easily under his strong hand. I gasp, and my thighs involuntarily clamp together.Wedging his knee between them, he forces me open for him. His fingers slide through my pussy, and he groans, “Fuck, Ani…You are fucking soaked for me.” Nik’s voice sounds wrecked. He slides his hand lower and eases a finger inside me. “Is it days of need? Or knowing I’m so fucking consumed with you that I’d kill a man simply for touching you?”
“Yes,” I pant, answering both questions at once. Finally, I pull my hands free from his grasp and wrap them around his wrist between my thighs. My nails dig into his skin as I push him deeper. My hips lift from the cushions, desperately grinding against his palm as I thrust him into me. Teetering on the edge, my needy cries reverberate off the walls as I unyieldingly ride his hand like my life depends on it.
Nik curls his fingers just right, and I completely shatter. My head falls back, and my body bows toward his like electricity is coursing through my veins. His lips crash against mine as a scream tears from my throat, swallowing every broken sound. Kissing me through the crest of pleasure, his lips don’t pull from mine until the tremors finally subside. With his eyes locked on mine, he lifts his fingers to his lips and licks them clean. He briefly admires the crescent punctures I left across his wrist. “I told you”—he pauses to lick a drop of blood trailing down his arm—“I don’t need to hear you beg, because your Daddy knows exactly what you need.”
I don’t argue—I can’t. I need him in ways I don’t have words for.
He strips the cocktail dress from me, tossing it to the floor. His eyes rake over my body, drinking me in. With one sharp tug, his belt comes undone and his zipper lowers immediately after. My pulse races even faster as he pulls his thick, heavy length free and settles it between my thighs. He pushes the fat head into me,and my body jerks. The stretch is brutal, overwhelming. “Nik… Too much…” I painfully whimper.
“Relax, little pet,” he softly urges, slowly flexing his hips. My nails claw at the cushions above my head as he takes his time sinking deeper, filling me to the brink. His hand tenderly grips my jaw, forcing me to meet his stare. “That’s it. Let Daddy in.”
