It’s only the beginning.
This time next week, she’ll be rosy, warm and well fucked in my bed, her belly full of the finest food I can find. I’m going to bathe her in exotic oils and spoil her with obscene jewelry and make her need me. I won’t fool myself into thinking she’ll ever love me. But I can make her crave me. At least, I can do that.
With an indignant huff of breath, Blessing climbs the ladder and I stand below, watching her lush buns flex with every step, her too-small panties riding up the crack of her ass. My cock grows behind the zipper of my dress pants, hardening, lengthening, eager as hell to experience that mercifully tight pussy that only my middle finger has had the pleasure of breaching.
Christ, my need to rut her is overpowering.
I’m actually jealous of my goddamn middle finger.
As much as I want to climb this ladder, lay her down and fuck her heat until my balls are no longer in horrific pain, I’m a smarter man than that. If I’m going to convince her to be my wife, then I’ll need to control myself and employ a strategy.
With that in mind, I follow Blessing up the ladder, my distended cock dragging against every rung, the friction making me hornier. When I reach the top, I barely stop myself from lunging for her. But I do. I do, because she’s wringing her hands in front of a makeshift bedroom. I’m relieved to see there is sunlight coming in through a small, round window. She has arranged a privacy screen around a twin-sized cot, which rests on the floor, covered in tidy pink sheets. A neat pile of clothes and a single pair of worn-out shoes sits nearby, along with a short stack of books.
“My angel has lived a hard life,” I say around the pang in my throat.
She lifts her chin. “I’m not your angel.”
“Aren’t you?” Slowly, I eliminate the distance between us, one measured step at a time. “If I put my arms around you right now, you won’t melt against me like we’re two halves of the same mold?”
Uncertainty dances across her features. “N-no.”
“Oh?”
Briefly, her gaze ticks downward and a flush spreads across her cheeks. “That part of you is hard again. The part I felt last night.”
Good girl. Look at my cock. “You felt it between your legs.”
“Yes,” she whispers, her brow quirking. “Sometimes it’s hard and other times…it’s not?”
“That’s right.” I reach down and massage the steel ridge jutting out from my lap. “Although I doubt it’ll ever be completely soft around you.”
“Why?”
“My cock gets hard when it needs to fuck. I will never not need to fuck you.”
That statement flusters her. “We shouldn’t be speaking like this.”
When she tries to escape around me, I sidestep and yank her up against me, onto her tiptoes—and by God, does she melt. Like butter in a hot pan, her muscles lose tension and her head falls back, her petite body conforming to mine. “That’s right. Go soft for me.” I easily lift her up and urge her thighs around my waist, groaning when her pussy meets my erection and presses down deliciously. “Go soft everywhere.”
“Edison…”
Does she realize she’s pouting and talking like a baby? I don’t think so. I think this twisted hunger inside of me is alive and well inside of her, too.
Daddy and little girl.
“Edison, what?” I prompt, sliding a hand into the back of her panties, molding her supple right cheek in my grip, purposefully jostling her pussy against my dick. “Tell me what’s on your mind, angel.”
She takes several shallow breaths. “Um. Why were there so many women at your house last night?”
“What women?” My mind has been wiped clean of any female but her, so it takes me a beat to understand the question. “Oh.” I shake my head. “That’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. As soon as you walked past my window, there was no one but you.”
“But what if I hadn’t walked past your window?”
“But you did. Thank fuck.”
God, her little pout is making my balls hang heavier. “Why were they there?”
“Blessing. What is this? You can’t possibly…be jealous?”
A groove forms between her brows. “I don’t know what I am!” she cries.
Urgency runs wild inside of me and I take two big steps, laying her down on the cot and coming down on top of her, pressing her down with my body and looking her hard in the eye, so there is no way for her to escape me. I need her to acknowledge what I’m going to say and believe it as fact. “Listen, angel. I fucked your blood stain last night like some kind of sick animal. I paced until the sun came up so I could track you down and make you my wife. This earth might as well be empty of any other woman but you. For eternity. Is that clear?”