Page 164 of Monster Daddies
“Good Little girl,” I say in a praising tone. I continue stroking her back, and my hands eventually travel lower to knead her buttocks. Her cheeks are still reddened from her spanking, and the sight of her punished bottom and her slick, welcoming core draws a lusty growl from my throat. “What a good Little girl you are, presenting your swollen pussy for claiming.”
I drag my nails down her back, and she arches her ass even higher. I grasp the base of my engorged shaft and drag the bulbous tip through her moisture. Gods. I adore the feel of her slickness on my appendage. I continue coating the tip in her essence. Whenever I encounter her clit, I press down harder, drawing more whimpers and moans from her quivering form.
The enticing scent of her arousal permeates the cabin, and a glance at her nether folds shows she’s becoming increasingly slick. She grips the covers so hard her knuckles turn white, and she presses her center against my roving cock.
I grasp her bottom cheeks, taking one in each hand, then I spread her wide as I angle my hardness toward her slick, inviting chasm. I push inside her with a groan, and she gasps as her insides stretch to accommodate my size. Though I’m eager to plunge scrotum-deep and begin a pace of rapid, punishing thrusts, I force myself to go slow, not wanting to hurt her.
While the idea of pounding her to the point of tears held appeal about an hour ago, now that the bond is starting to form between us, I cannot fathom visiting such roughness on her. At least not during our first mating session. In a few days, after she’s better adapted to my girth, perhaps then I will push her limits with a savage, relentless pounding.
I tighten my hold on her bottom and keep her spread wide as I push deeper, and I don’t pause until the tip of my shaft meets the fleshy barrier of her innocence. Knowing this next part will likely cause her pain, I remain half-submerged in her tightness, allowing her more time to become used to my size. Her skin is hot to the touch, and she keeps whimpering and moaning. She also occasionally pushes back on my cock ever so slightly.
“Gods, Kiera, you’re getting Papa’s cock so wet.” I growl as I withdraw from her center, then push inside until I meet her maidenhead once more.
I build a slow rhythm, plunging into her with shallow thrusts. Her moisture gushes around my rigid length, her excitement increasing in tune with mine. I tap a finger on her exposed bottom hole a few times, just so I can watch the pucker clench and unclench. She tears at the covers and makes an urgent pleading noise whenever I touch her back hole.
“All your holes belong to Papa, little girl,” I say in a firm voice as I continue the gradual drives into her core, as well as the teasing taps on her anus. “Your slick pussy, your shy bottom hole, and your pretty little mouth.”
Chapter Seven
Kiera
All your holes belong to Papa.His crass words echo in my head, inciting my desires and causing me to swelter with need. The fullness of his cock in my center is almost too much, yet I know he’s not even halfway submerged.
With each plunge, he impacts my maidenhead, causing a slight pinch of pain. But it’s my understanding, based on the whispers I’ve heard from my married friends, that to properly claim me, he must break through this barrier.
Eventually, he’s going to shove deep and it’s going to hurt.
My breath falters as my anticipation grows. I’m anxious about the impending pain, but I’m also eager for him to shove the entirety of his huge cock into my depths. I want to feel all of him, pounding away as he claims me as his mate.
Mate. In my heart, I know this means I’m going to belong to him forever. He’ll never let me go. There’s no returning to my old life. Not that I had much of a life in Zochal. I’d worked as a maid at the boarding house frequented by traveling merchants, and in my spare time I’d struggled to keep an eye on my brother.
Will I ever see Zochal again? If I’m being honest, the prospect of never returning to my village doesn’t upset me very much.There’s a certain freedom in abandoning a life of drudgery that often felt suffocating.
While I know Silas—Papa—will never let me go, I don’t quite feel like his captive. Not anymore. With each careful plunge of his cock into my pussy, I sense a bond forming more solidly between us, an endless affection that warms me all over and fills me with hope.
In Zochal, my prospects of marriage weren’t so great. Most men viewed my troublesome brother as a liability, while others worried the strange, wasting illness that took my parents had somehow touched me. I’d resigned myself to a life of spinsterhood and tried to find contentment working at the boarding house, but the truth is, I’d been lonely. Every night as I drifted to sleep, I would fantasize about finally meeting a handsome, gallant man who would sweep me off my feet.
Silas is definitely handsome, and I suppose he’s gallant too. He’s a forest guardian, and that means he keeps the creatures who reside within his domain safe. It’s my understanding that he protects the vegetation too.
My thoughts continue to wander as he tortures me with the slow, shallow thrusts, not quite impaling me yet. The ache in my core is overwhelming, and I can’t seem to catch my breath.
Why have the gods selected me to be Silas’s mate? Why am I able to hear the whispers on the wind but not comprehend the meaning?
His fingers dig into my bottom, and a flush steals through me because he’s spreading me so wide that it’s starting to hurt. Despite the discomfort, heated spasms clench in my nether area, and moisture escapes my pussy to trickle down my inner thighs.
“Please,” I find myself saying. “Please, Papa.” What am I begging him for? I’m not certain. All I know is that I need more. I need him to coax me to another quaking climax, or I need him to drive his full length inside me, as deep as he can manage.
He growls. “Good girl. Keep begging and perhaps I’ll take mercy on you.”
I give a frustrated whimper, and my hair flails around my head as I thrash in place. My desperation intensifies, and when he completes another shallow thrust, I jerk my center back against him, as hard as I can. But he anticipates the action and withdraws as a deep chuckle vibrates from his throat. He delivers two quick slaps to my bottom, planting a firm smack in the center of each cheek.
He makes a stern tsking noise. “I decide when it’s time, little girl.” He leans down and his warm breath caresses my neck, and his woodsy, masculine scent pervades my senses. “Papa is in charge.”
Papa is in charge.
Those four words make me shiver with need.
I wish he didn’t have such a visceral effect on me. I wish I could turn my desires off and give him a taste of his own medicine. What I wouldn’t give to be able to tease him in return. Perhaps one day I’ll master the self-control required to make it happen.
