“You think calling me sir is gonna stop me from bending you in half and f*****g you till you cry so loud the whole neighborhood hears?”
She made the softest, filthiest sound I’ve ever heard.
I stepped closer. The heat between us rose like steam off her soaked skin.
Her n*****s brushed my chest. Hard. Hot. Needy.
I leaned in.
Right against her throat.
Calling Me Sm Won’t Prote
My lips didn’t touch her.
Just breathed.
And she shuddered.
“Why are you trembling?”
I whispered.
She didn’t answer.
“Why are your n*****s so stiff they look like they’re in pain?”
Nothing.
“Why,”
I snarled, “can I see your slick dripping down your legs and smell your cunt from here like it’s begging to be sucked?”
She choked on her own breath.
Her head fell back slightly.
Like the shame was too heavy.
Like her body was giving up the lie.
“You’re soaked,”
I hissed.
“Standing in my f*****g driveway dripping because I said your name. You came out here wearing that tiny shirt knowing damn well your cunt was bare. You didn’t even wipe yourself. You’re leaking like a girl who wants to get caught. Like a girl who wants to be punished. f****d. Used.”
She whimpered.
So softly.
So broken.
I leaned down.
My mouth hovered just above her n****e.
Still didn’t touch.
Just breathed against it.
It twitched. Again.
She moaned.
A tiny, helpless sound that told me everything.
“You want me to taste it?”
I whispered.
“You want me to fall to my knees and suck every drop of slick off those thighs like a starved man?”
She whimpered again.
“You want to ride my face till your legs stop working and you forget who you are?”
Her knees wobbled.
I f*****g grinned.
“You want to cry, Lyra? You want to scream Daddy while my fingers ruin that tight little hole and stretch it wide so I can break it with my c**k?”
??/p>
She didn’t speak.
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Just need.
I stood straight. Brushed her hair from her face like she was mine already.
“You still want to pretend it was just the keys?”
I asked low.
She looked up at me, eyes glassy, lip trembling, her body a trembling mess of arousal.
“I… I came to give you your keys,” she whispered.
Then softer.
So f*****g soft it sounded like sin.
“Sir.”
My c**k jerked so hard it hurt.
But I didn’t touch her.
I reached out.
Took the keys from her hand.
Let my fingers brush her wrist.
Let her feel every ounce of control I was holding onto by the edge of a f*****g knife.
Then I bent down.
Stopped just before her lips.
Close enough she could feel the heat of my breath.
“So next time, Lyra,”
I growled, “when you come out here dripping, shirtless, p***y out, n*****s begging, calling me sir like a filthy little omega in heat…”
I smiled dark.
“Don’t lie.”
“I am not f*****g lying, sir,” she snapped.
“I came here to give you your keys. And for the formality. That’s it. You…you told me there would be nothing between us. That I was just a little girl. That I couldn’t even handle your massive cock.”
My f*****g jaw locked.
The word c**k on her tongue should’ve been illegal.
She spat it like it didn’t choke her in her dreams. Like it wasn’t the thing she thought about with her hand between her thighs, whispering sir like a sin.
She said it like she wasn’t standing in front of me with bare legs, flushed cheeks, and n* painfully stiff through my goddamn shirt.
My voice dropped to a growl, low and trembling with restraint I didn’t f*****g want anymore. that looked
“You little brat.”
I took a slow step toward her, the gravel crunching under my boot like bones.
“You think saying sir makes you innocent?”
She didn’t answer.
“You think you’re fooling me with this little speech..dressed in nothing but my shirt, ts bouncing, thighs glistening, p***y leaking down your leg like it’s crying for me?”
Her breath caught.
Her arms crossed fast, like she could hide it..like she could stuff the heat back between her legs and pretend
I hadn’t seen it.
But it only made it worse.
Her forearms pressed under her breasts, lifted them higher, squeezed them together until they looked like they were going to burst through the wet fabric.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.