by Chase, Jenna
Daphne licks my length and squeezes my damned balls before taking half my cock into her mouth. It’s like the other night. Only better, because I can now say that this woman is going to marry me. Someday.
Her eyes look to me for approval. “Am I doing good? Is this what you want? Tell me I’m doing good.” I do. Since she liked it so much the other night, I pull her hair and watch her wince and hear her groan against my cock.
“Swallow it,” I growl, my need to fuck her throat growing to the point it’s a miracle I’m not ramming it down there now. “Look at me the whole time you’re doing it.”
I want to see it. The adoration in her eyes. The way she gazes at me as she strokes and sucks my cock, her beautiful hair falling to the side and her perfect nails lightly grazing my base. I grab her by the back of the head in an effort to maintain control. Trust me. My hips only care about one thing right now. If my cock had its way? I’d come in her throat again.
Like I’m wasting a perfectly good orgasm in her throat this time.
“You getting wet?” My thumb rubs her forehead as she obediently keeps up the pace. Her lips slide up and down my cock at a steady rhythm. I can’t tell you what her tongue is doing. I don’t even know how to describe it. Her throat? Tight and velvety. Just like other parts of her, I’m sure. “Is your pussy getting ready for what this cock is going to do to it?”
Eyes still on me, Daphne moans in the affirmative. Or at least those eyes say it’s a hearty yes.
“Touch yourself. Make sure you’re dripping by the time I fuck you.”
This is as much for her as it is for me. ‘Cause let me tell you… when your girl is rubbing her slit while sucking your cock, you’re having a good time. Plus, it makes her whimper all over me and her eyes struggle to stay open. Hell. Yes.
This is my girl.
This is my girl.
Sure, Daphne would make me call her a woman – and what a young woman she is – but there’s something about calling her my girl that makes it feel so much more intimate. Can I also confess that I’ve never thought of another woman this way? Even a girl? From the time I started rutting around like the stud I am in my teenage years, I’ve been waiting for the perfect woman to call mine.
I’ve found her.
Holy hell, have I found her. Now I’m finally putting that feisty, pouty mouth of hers to good use. My cock agrees. It’s growing. I hope she appreciates the taste of my precum.
I need to go deeper.
I know she can do it. She did it the other night. She makes no protest as I slip my cock farther down her throat and hold her head against me, my fingers clutching the edge of her bed. Her concentration has increased, so she looks away.
“No, Daphne, look at me.” When she does… holy shit. That’s pure surrender in her beautiful eyes. She’ll do whatever I want. She’ll go along with whatever I want. There is no hesitation between us. This is a woman who will let me have whatever I want.
Her.
I want her.
You know how.
“I can’t,” I finally confess, pushing her off me, catching one of her arms, and pulling her up to the bed. I crash my mouth against hers. “I have to have you now,” I mutter on her lips. “Now.”
Chapter 5
DAPHNE
I’ve never had a man push me onto a bed like Logan does. My mouth is barely full of air for the first time in five minutes, and already his tongue is shooting into it, his naked body slamming down on top of me in ways I didn’t know could feel so right.
I want him to do it. I want him to fuck me like this, with my back hard against the bed, head digging against the pillow behind me. I want him to pound me so hard that I can’t walk tonight. Then I want him to do it again. Again. Again, until he comes and my pussy is full of him.
There’s that gleam in his eye again. He keeps pushing this more and more. The more I acquiesce, the faster he’ll realize I’m not fucking around. This is what I want.
This is what I need.
But he doesn’t give that to me. Logan lands on the bed beside me, his hard cock reaching for me even though he doesn’t.
“Get on top of me.”
That’s an order if I ever heard one. The way his voice crashes into me is surreal. I never thought in a million years I would beg a man to treat me like this. It’s not like that with Logan, though. I’m trusting him with this fantasy of mine. I know that he’s the only man who can make me feel like something more than the perfect heiress. Today is the day I unleash the dirtiest sides of myself. I’ll start by straddling his abs and bumping my ass against his cock. My hands will wander across his chest. My lips will part and ask, “Is this what you want?” My aching pussy searches for his tip. Now. I need him now. I’ve been waiting for this day longer than I’ve been waiting for Logan to fuck me, but now the two desires are colliding, and I’m about to go mad.
He grabs my hips and immobilizes me. Fuck. I’m on top, but he’s controlling every movement. Logan touches the tip of his cock against my dripping wet entrance – I made sure it was definitely ready for him to the point I drenched my poor thong. I don’t know what happened to that piece of fabric. Abandoned on the floor with everything else, probably.
“Please fuck me,” I whimper, rubbing my entrance against the head of his cock. “Please!”
“That’s right. Beg for me, Daph. Tell me how much you want my cock inside of you. Make it convincing. I’m reveling in my victory down here.”
The bastard. The beautiful bastard! He’s been thinking about this since meeting me too! Oh, I bet he liked those fantasies. Bet he jacked off to them. Men are like that, right? They go up against a woman who has the brains and guts to take them on, and they instantly start thinking about how to tame them. Well… he’s got a point. That is what I want. I tell him as much.
“For the love of…” My toes wiggle on the bed, my knees bent and hips struggling to lower onto his cock. “Fuck me!”
Did I tell you that he’s a bastard? Because he is. His cock doesn’t just tease my entrance. It draws circles around it and tickles my clit. I’m shaking and shuddering all over, my wetness dripping not just down my thigh but down his freakin’ cock. Does that work, Logan? Does that prove to you how much I want you? You put this rock on my finger. Come get your spoils.
He finally releases me. My pussy lands right on the end of his cock, devouring it so quickly that I cry out in both relief and shock. When he’s fully entered me, everything stands still. Me. Him. My heart. His words.
This is the first time I’ve ever felt this good with a man inside of me. I mean, I felt plenty good before… with other men… but it wasn’t like this.
I grind against him, taking him deeper with each thrust of our hips. We don’t look away from each other. I accidentally come up too high. He almost slides out of me.
“Don’t,” he growls. “Ride me hard, Daph.”
I do. I slam my hips back down and completely lose myself in the moment.
The sensation is incredible. I mean, obviously he feels good, his cock more than big enough to fill every inch of me. But it’s him, too! Logan has my hips, but it’s a loose hold, and his cock thrusts hard and deep into me as I brace myself against his broad chest. He fucks me so hard that I’m afraid of losing control and falling – but I don’t, so I stop being afraid. I let my body move freely, my breasts bouncing for both of our enjoyment. The way he looks at them makes me thrust down harder, faster.
Before I can completely disappear into my own mind, Logan sits up and holds me to his chest, his cock still thrusting into me. Yet now his tongue is in my mouth, my ear, on my neck… his breathy groans carry with them the same dirty whispers from the other night.
He calls me things.
Tells me I’m the type of sullied girl who’s easy, who doesn’t respect where she comes from and what something like this could do to her family. It’s all the shit I’ve been so afraid of hearing for as long as I’ve been conscious of who I am and what that means. It makes
me kiss him. It makes me moan, whimper, cry. I’ve never experienced anything as freeing as Logan Dean slamming his cock up into me and calling me his slutty little heiress.
Once those words leave his mouth I come for the first time today. I scream against his lips, my body shaking in his lap as my pussy clenches his cock so tightly that I’m wordlessly begging for him to come. Now. Now, Logan. Now’s the time to come unhinged along with me.
He doesn’t
He does something better.
He shoves me down and takes me.
I don’t think his cock has left my body in over fifteen minutes. Sweat pours down his skin, and mine. The longer we go on, with him holding me down and fucking me like it’s nothing, the more I feel that barbaric side of him come out. Slow and sensual my ass. That would’ve been so boring. So... uninspiring. I would’ve continued to crave him for all the wrong reasons. If this is the man I might marry one day, he better deliver the first time we do it.
“Shit, you gorgeous girl,” he says with increasingly heavier grunts. Logan’s thrusts slow, my body on the edge of another orgasm and now being teased into oblivion. “Look at this perfect body. It’s all mine to take.”
“Yes,” I murmur, eyes fluttering shut. Except shutting my eyes means shutting out his amazing body and that look of pure pleasure on his face. “Take it. Tear me apart. Logan!”
His thrusts increase again. Hard. So hard. My bed is creaking and hitting the wall. I didn’t know it could take this kind of abuse from my sex life and still survive. Good. I want to hear the bed of this prissy goody-goody go under and be rebuilt into the bed of a promiscuous harlot. I may be a promiscuous harlot for one man – that I am engaged to, no less – but it’s the principle of the thing. After today, Logan is going to know that he can have me whenever he wants. However he wants. He’s the one man who gets to have me, and I know he’ll make it count.
He must be so close to coming, but he still finds the energy to fuck me wide open, his cock slamming into my G-spot and making my eyes roll back into my head. Logan also doesn’t shy away from more of those filthy words and names he calls me. Each one goes right into my ear and turns my body on more. These are words I could imagine the Logan I hated calling me. Instead, it’s the Logan I fell in love with. I feel so dirty. So used. In all the best ways possible!
My name is Daphne DeMarco, but I am no longer that Daphne DeMarco. I will dress and act much of the same way in public, but my heart and soul are free. I don’t have to be the perfect heiress anymore. I can be who I want. This man… this amazing man… is going to ensure that.
First, this equally amazing sex we’re having. You know. The sex that’s got me screaming in pleasure again because the thick head of Logan’s cock is stimulating my G-spot while his girth and length consumes the rest of my body. He’s got to be coming. I know I am!
“Oh my God! Logan!” His hand clutches my throat before pressing against my collarbone. He’s not going to relent. Hard. Hard. Slow. Hard. Slow. I’m quivering all over my body as I scream that I am his. His girl. His bride. His filthy harlot who is available to him 24/7, because that’s the kind of girl I am now, thank the stars above!
I see those stars now. When I fall back down from Heaven, it’s to seeing Logan’s still desirous face.
He’s not done.
It doesn’t matter if I am or not. I won’t say no, no matter what. I’m tired. I’m sore. I’ve come twice already, and with any luck he’ll make me come again. It doesn’t matter. My brain is so addled with sex that it means nothing to me if he flips me over, pulls my ass into the air, and easily slams his cock into my waiting pussy.
Logan holds me by the shoulders as I brace myself again. I can’t keep my eyes open. My hair keeps falling in my face as he soundlessly pounds my pussy, which still aches for him. I really am a toy now. His strength alone makes me a willing slave to his every whim. The way he spanks my ass and calls me his girl makes me forget who I am entirely.
Even though I know that there will be many more opportunities for sex like this, I can’t help but want to make every moment of it count. As I feel his cock swell to its final limit and hear his voice take on a somewhat familiar groan, I throw myself into one last orgasm, hoping that the tightening of my pussy will send him over the edge too.
It does.
Oh my God, does it!
“Fuck, Daph!” he roars, pushing me down against my bed and burying his cock as deep as it can go. At first I don’t feel anything aside from what I’ve been feeling all along. Then, heat. Incredible, thick, smooth heat floods me as a final reminder that I am a nasty girl who will never be able to reclaim her honor. Thank. God.
I bite the edge of my own pillow. My whimpers shake my whole body as Logan comes down from his well-deserved climax. His cock continues to move inside of me, languid, softening, but still so powerful.
Logan pulls out. My body doesn’t move. It can’t. My man is all over me, touching me, coming out of me, taking me over. I’m frozen. Too tired to move even as he collapses beside me and nibbles my ear.
“That was amazing,” he says, gently rubbing the back of my neck as I remain pointed away from him, catching my breath. His isn’t much better. “You’re…”
I use the last of my strength to look him in the dazed eyes. “I’m the girl you tripped.”
He manages a smile and gives me a kiss. “You’re the girl I fell in love with as soon as I laid my eyes on you.” Another kiss. “You’re the girl I see myself loving for the rest of my life.”
After all that nasty shit he said while we were having sex… I think this is my favorite.
I bring him down for a real kiss. Again. And again.
We’re not leaving this bed until I fully explore what this man means to me.
Chapter 5
TWO MONTHS LATER
I’m at my engagement party.
My parents have actually thrown Logan and me an engagement party.
To be fair, the media sort of forced their hands after publishing spread after spread about my new relationship. For about two weeks Logan and I dominated every relationship page, much to the relief of others like us, I’m sure. One of the country’s prettiest heiresses suddenly engaged to an Oscar-winner’s bad boy son? Oh, we dominated the gossip. My parents, being the proper people they are, responded with alacrity by saying they gave their blessing and kindly asked the media to give us our privacy as we went about our lives. Yeah, right.
Imagine how Camilla took it. She didn’t even know we were dating! Now she’s acting like we’re best friends. She’s the one who took me shopping for my gown, a sweet royal purple sheath dress by one of her favorite best friend designers. Logan warned me that relationships with his mother are tenuous. It’s true. Camilla comes by when it’s convenient to her, but she likes me, and that’s what matters most from a future mother-in-law.
Everyone asks us when we’re having the wedding. We give them the same stock answer. “We don’t know. Sometime after we finish school.” Logan is starting Harvard in the spring, and I’m back at school for my junior year. With any luck we’ll finish our degrees around the same time. I’m still trying to decide what I want to do. I’m not stressing out about it.Besides, this will give us plenty of time to grow our relationship and get to know each other more. We’re getting along great. Some days are easier than others, of course, but I’ve never gone to bed angry at him and he’s been nothing but what I need… whether that’s sweet or rough.
I don’t have to tell you that the sex is fantastic. Sometimes every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. We spent a week in the Bahamas and didn’t leave our room once. Oops.
For now, I’m enjoying my life for what it is. Logan seems pretty happy too. His reputation as a bad boy philanderer has been dashed… but he’s still my bad boy. At least twice a week he says something to rile me up. Not that it works anymore. I know it’s how he flirts.
I like it. Keeps my wits sharp. Us bantering is a mating ritual at this point.
“Look at you too,” I say, spotting Angus not far behind Ashleigh. To think, we had these couplings all wrong in the beginning. “It’s my maid of honor.”
Every time I call her that Ashleigh squeals. I’m not starting any wedding planning until I’m good and ready to actually marry Logan, but Ashleigh takes being my maid of honor as a huge point of pride.
More people file in. Some of them I know. Most of them I really don’t. Daddy invited most of them. This may be our party, as I’m reminded every time Logan squeezes my ass, but Daddy is wandering around the ballroom shaking hands and holding up a champagne glass every five seconds. At least he and Logan are cool. They even go golfing sometimes, much to Logan’s great and hilarious chagrin.
“Daph,” Logan says, stealing my attention away from my half-drunk father and pointing to our next guest. “We’re still playing hostess.”
I love how he says stuff like that. We’re playing hostess. If he ever knocks me up, I’m sure we’ll be pregnant.
I turn.
“Good afternoon.” Fuck me! What is Kathryn Alison doing at my engagement party? Granted, she looks fresh from the airport or hungover, but still, what? “Congratulations on your engagement.” She extends her hand for us to shake, and then yanks it back again so she can rip off her sunglasses now that she’s inside. She probably decided to come at the last minute, but I don’t care. I’m fangirling a little right now.
“Hi!” Wow, her hands are so soft! And her nails. Where does she get them done? Bit disappointed she’s not wearing that vintage ring, but I see a gold band on her right hand. Doesn’t compare to my engagement rocks, though. “Thank you for coming!” I jam my elbow into Logan’s side. He shakes her hand next.
