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“Burn it until we’re all that’s left. Until there’s nothing but… The Kings.”
Me. Alone. Stuck in this penthouse with the bratty, redheaded princess I can’t stop thinking about—who’d probably stab me in my sleep if she thought she could get away with it. Perfect.
A few handprints on that perfect ass… And she’ll learn to behave for me.
“You didn’t listen to your father…” His hand cracks against my panty-covered skin, and a breathy, startled cry blows over my lips. “But you will listen to your Daddy.”
“If you want this, you need to tell Daddy what you want.”
“Does my sweet princess like when I play with her tight pussy?”
“Mine,” he gravelly whispers, rubbing his tip through the creamy white splatters, thoroughly smearing them over the lips of my pussy. “Who does this perfect little cum-covered pussy belong to?” Still struggling to catch my breath, I answer without hesitation, panting, “Daddy… It.... Belongs... To... Daddy.”
Her presence quiets something in me I didn’t know needed to be silenced.
“You cannot seriously pick your brother’s name as your safeword.” “It’s my word, right?” she quips. “And I’m pretty sure if I scream it, you’ll stop… and he’ll come running.” A wicked and triumphant smirk spreads across her face, like she just won a game I didn’t even realize we were playing. I can’t help but chuckle. She’s right, though… I don’t think a thing in this world would take me from hard to flaccid quite like her screaming her brother’s name while I’m thrusting into her.
“Whatever you say, Daddy,” she flirtatiously brats. “Careful, princess,” I warn. “Or you might not be able to sit by our date tonight.”
“I will spend the rest of the night ensuring you can’t sit tomorrow if you need me to. But I’d much rather spend it making sure you can’t walk.”
“So beautiful. Drenched in sweat from being Daddy’s perfect little fuck toy. I can’t wait to see how breathtaking you are when you’re dripping with cum.” “Please, Daddy,”
“You don’t have to beg, princess. I can’t stop thinking about pumping my babies into you.”
“Mercenaries,” I clarify. “How the fuck do you know guys like that?” He shrugs. “Where the fuck do you think the guns come from? You think they fall off trucks and walk themselves in?” I chortle. “With your luck? Maybe.”
“Wanting to be your Daddy goes far beyond sex and this insatiable need to have my hands on you,” he discloses. “Yes, there’s a physical side, but it’s so much more than that. I want to care for you. Protect you. Guide you. Help you grow.”
“But… I think—” he pauses, his heart suddenly racing beneath my hand splayed over it—“I can’t remember my life before you… Or imagine my future without you.”
“Since you love… calling me… Daddy… so… fucking much,” I grit between thrusts. “Fucking. Make. Me. One.”
“You’re lucky I like your sass.” “You love my sass, Daddy.” I wink at him.
