“Your cock is hard for me, and that’s all I fucking care about. Now, look at your phone.”
My eyes flew open. The screen of my phone was flashing with a request for a video call. I hit accept and transferred the feed to my computer. It was dark in the middle of the woods, but the moon cast enough of a glow on him that I could make out his smirk and the strands of hair that framed his stony face.
“Hey there, sweetheart.”
Daddy.
The word swam in my chest, aching to be free. Longing chomped at my desire, and I couldn’t decide if pleasure or pain was more prominent.
“Hi.”
“You’re stunning.” His jaw tightened. “Fuck, baby, look at you quiver for me.”
Him.
Always him.
“Adjust your camera, sweetheart, and take your cock out of your shorts for me. I need to fucking see you.”
I freed my cock first. My hand shook as I fumbled with the stupid camera, and I knew the minute I caught the right angle because Daddy groaned.
“Lift your shirt out of the way.”
I caught the hem of my shirt and shoved it in my mouth.
“Good boy.”
My back arched. I slipped my thumb through the puddle at the tip of my cock and ran it along my shaft. Heat swam through me, and I felt the cords in my neck tighten while I whimpered into the fabric of my shirt.
So. Close.
I forced my left hand down the back of my shorts. The tip of my finger slipped across my hole. My legs weren’t wide enough, but I forced it inside, anyway.
The pleasure made me breathless.
One more stroke of my cock, and it was all over. My cock erupted across my desk and over the ridges of my knuckles. Spit pooled at the edges of my mouth when I shouted my relief. My head spun, and my ears were ringing, but I’d still heard his grunt.
Through my eyelashes, I saw his face on the screen. His nostrils flared, and I watched his cheek twitch before he let out a growl and our eyes met.
The intensity behind his gaze was enough to make my spent cock twitch against my thigh. Blue flames moved over me as if they were cataloging every inch of my skin into his memory.
His voice was gravel when he spoke…“Mine.”
ChapterSeven
Elijah
My kitten had beenon my mind all damn night.
No.
He’d been on my mind since the moment I fucking met him.
His big brown eyes seemed to be the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth, and I couldn’t purge my mind of how heavy they looked last night, weighed down by lust and desire. Silas quivered against that chair, groaning in annoyance when he couldn’t open his legs as wide as he needed. His needy little whimpers turned me inside and out, and though I was limited to a virtual view, I couldn’t help but praise him.
Perfect.
My baby was a fucking dream, and I came all over the cold ground watching him stroke his cock for me, desperate sounds falling past his wet lips. His neck went rigid when he shouted his pleasure, and I imagined how he’d taste when I ran my tongue along those ridges—how loud he’d whine for me when I bit down on him and claimed him as mine.