Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
The door clicks shut, leaving me alone with the rage building in my chest. Jake from fucking IT. The name is burned into my brain now.
I pull out my phone, texting Rocko: Jake from IT is fired. The special kind of fired. Bring him to the east dock. I’ll meet you there.
He responds immediately: On it, boss.
I adjust my tie, taking several deep breaths before heading back to my office to handle any urgent business that’s still dangling. I have a business to run, a new baby girl to fuck, and now, apparently, an IT guy to dismember.
Just another day in the life of Duffield, the beast who finally found his beauty.
Chapter Four
Duffield
"You didn't have to drive me home." Tabby scrunches her nose, and for the first time in my miserable existence, the word "cute" actually means something. “That’s my place, there.” She motions to a sad looking gray crumbling wood structure and anger flickers to life in my belly.
Christ, this girl has me dreaming of picket fences and wedding bells—right after I leave her dripping with me from every hole, with my seed sprouting inside her as I pray my spawn doesn’t grow too large for her tiny body to handle. I make a mental note to find the best obstetricians in the country and get them on retainer now, because I’m knocking this little kitten up pronto. Keeping her safe and healthy while carrying and bringing our babies into the world is my new highest priority.
This can't be me. This must be some parallel universe version who gives a shit about another human being.
"From now on," I growl, pulling my truck to the curb, "you go nowhere without my permission. If I’m not with you, I’ll be watching. Believe me on that."
She laughs. "That seems like a red flag."
"Red flag, green flag, white fucking flag—I don't care. We're not doing semaphore here, kitty."
"Sema-what?" Her eyes narrow adorably.
"Flag signals. All you need to know is you agreed to do as I say. If I say I'm not letting you out of my sight, I'm not letting you out of my sight." I glance at the house she indicated. "You live here?"
"Yes. Wait, I can't always be in your sight. Sometimes I sleep."
“Well, then I won’t,” I answer, fully intending to figure out how not to sleep so I can watch her while she does.
Why is the idea of watching this little kitten sleep such a turn on?
I pull to a stop in front of the sagging structure, pushing away the thoughts of how she would lay next to me, unconscious, tempting me.
Her hair splayed like ink spilled across my pillows, lips parted to catch her breath in little hitching sighs that make me feral just listening. The curve of her hip peeks from the sheets, bare and soft as sin, and I’m already balls-deep in wanting.
Wrong. So wrong.
Of course it’s wrong. She’s unconscious. Vulnerable. But Christ, when has “wrong” ever stopped me?
I imagine leaning over her, tracing my knuckles down that spine—every dip and ridge beneath her skin begging to be marked. Her eyelids flutter but don’t wake, and the thought of her slumped in this half-world between dreams turns me harder than concrete.
My cock twitches in my pants. The fantasy rips through me raw: I’m stripping her slow, fingers yanking those teasing little puuurrrfect panties down her legs before tossing them into the night shadows. She whimpers at the chill air, hitting her cunt, but doesn’t stir. Doesn’t open her eyes.
“Perfect,” I grit out loud, though she can’t hear. My breath’s ragged now as I spread those cotton candy blushing lips with my thumb—so sweet, dripping for me even asleep.
The scent hits like a drug: vanilla and musk and mine.
My tongue lashes the slit, licking her juices up greedily before I hook two fingers inside her. She’s tight, fucking perfect, squeezing my digits like she knows exactly what I’m doing to her while she’s lost in la-la land.
“Gonna take you right here,” I mutter into her thigh, voice gravelly enough to scare myself.
I strip in three seconds flat, naked and leaning over her again, cock jutting thick against her slick folds. The head of my shaft nudges her entrance, so wet she’s coating me before I even push in.
“Christ,” I choke out, bracing myself on shaking arms. She doesn’t fight. Doesn’t protest. Just lies there like a fucking offering, hips rising to meet me the second I thrust. I’m balls-deep with one brutal pump of my hips, her cunt gripping me so tight it’s almost pain.
Almost better than pleasure.
I start moving—slow, punishing strokes that drag moans from her throat even asleep. Her legs clasp my waist like she’s awake and clawing at me, heels digging into my ass as I slam deeper.
“Look how wet you get for daddy, even in your dreams,” I growl against the hollow of her throat, biting down gently where her pulse thrums under my teeth.