“If he came here for you today, what would you do?”
“Beg for you to kill him and keep me.”
His brow lifts slightly. “You want to be mine?”
“Who else’s would I be? Bermuda’s? Dragon’s?”
He shoves my dress up my hips and swats my bare ass. The thong I’m wearing is nude and blends in with my flesh. “You’re mine,” he states. “So stop fucking flirting with my guys.”
“What if I do?” I taunt.
“I’ll whip you.”
“Whipping me turns you on, Daddy.”
He groans and swats me again, harder. “Stop with the fucking taunting, PG.”
“I wonder who has the bigger dick. Bermuda or Dragon.”
His palm cracks against my ass again, making me cry out. “Me. I have the biggest dick.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Naughty fucking girl.”
Our eyes meet in the mirror. He ripples with violence and rage and sex appeal. I’m a mess with my mascara stained face and teary eyes. He grips a handful of my hair, yanking my head to the side. His lips crash onto my skin, sucking and biting and licking. Seeing him devour me is one of the single hottest things I have ever witnessed in my life. His cock through his camo presses against my sore ass.
“I can be good,” I promise. “Fuck me and make me yours.”
He slides his palms to my breasts and yanks down on the bodice, freeing my breasts. The material is tight and uncomfortable dragged down over my ribs. I take shallow breaths as he works at his pants. He frees his cock and slaps it against my bare ass.
“Are you wet?” he murmurs. “Does getting punished make you horny, PG?”
I hold his stare in the mirror as I reach down to touch my panties. “Soaked. I like it when you daddy me.”
His features darken. “You like fucking with my head.”
“If it makes you lose control with me, hell yeah.”
He shoves me down so I’m bent over, my face practically in the sink. I grip the edge of the porcelain, bracing myself. His large, rough fingers pull my thong to the side. He rubs the tip of his dick along my slit and then, without warning, he pushes his thickness inside me. I gasp as he stretches me with his massive cock.
“Fuck, Hadley,” he growls. “You make me insane.”
I push back against him, taking him as deep as possible. “It’s mutual.”
He grabs a handful of my hair, yanking me up so we can look at each other in the mirror once more. I have nothing to hold on to, so I reach back and tug off his beanie so I can touch his soft hair. His hips piston hard. I cry out as he claims me with one powerful thrust. One of his hands dives under my dress to find my clit. The moment his expert fingers find that throbbing nub of pleasure, I lose all sense of reality. His mouth is on my neck, sucking and biting hard enough that I sob.
He’s everywhere all at once.
I feel consumed and claimed and owned.
It’s addictive.
I give in to his power and let him use me—to take everything he wants from me. I want it too. I want to be taken from and used. I want to be obliterated.
Koyn doesn’t disappoint.
He fucks me to the point of pain, but his fingers bring such pleasure. My orgasm detonates like a bomb and I explode. Every nerve ending in my body comes alive as I thrash uncontrollably. He lets out a groan and then his hot seed floods inside me. With each throb of his cock, I feel the tentacles of his claim over me twisting like vines around my heart and mind. Squeezing. Suffocating. Making a promise.
Mine.
I feel it to the marrow of my bones.
His lips brush against my neck and then he pulls out. I’m barely able to speak a word to him when he tucks his cock back in his pants and slips out the door.
What. The. Fuck.
Fat tears well in my eyes and skate down my red cheeks. I’m a mess. His cum slides out of my body, running down my thighs and dripping to the rug at my feet. He fucked and ran. Why do I have such poor luck with men?
Look at you, Pageant Girl.
Wrecked and ruined.
My hair is a mess. Purple bruises are forming on my neck. I can even see teeth marks. My dress is pulled down, revealing my tits, and the skirt portion is twisted and ruffled. It’s my face that gets me. The black makeup has been smeared down my cheek and my eyes are red.
Disgraced princess.
Escaped her perfect tower to end up with a villain. Always a villain.
Another sob escapes me.
I clutch the sink, feeling bile rise up my throat. It burns and stings. I swallow hard, refusing to throw up and make things worse than they already are. More tears leak out. I bring a shaky hand to my cheek and hastily rub away the fresh tears with the heel of my hand.
Click.
Koyn is back, his powerful aura nearly knocking me over.
I was just bawling my eyes out over him and I’m already wishing he’ll fuck me again. Ruin me so good. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Don’t cry.”
His gruff words have my tears staying in my eyes.
“You’re pretty when you cry, but it makes me feel like shit,” he admits, his brows furrowed. He stands behind me and runs his fingers through my tangled hair. Then, he lifts something that sparkles in the light.
“A princess needs a crown, PG.” He places a tiara like headband on my head. It sparkles beautifully and I gasp.
“You bought me a present,” I whisper.
And not just any present. A headband. My heart aches.
“Happy belated birthday, PG.”
I’m shocked. Junior didn’t get me anything for my birthday aside from a few spankings that led to a blow job. This is unexpected and surprisingly sweet.
Koyn’s palms slide down and then he straightens my dress. He gently tucks my breasts back into the bodice portion of my dress, righting everything as it should go. He releases me to open a cabinet. After pulling out a cloth, he wets it.
“Are you going to clean up your cum?” I ask, my brow arched.
He smirks. “Nah. I like it running down your legs. I’m going to clean up your face, Hadley.”
I melt as he turns me to look at him. All sexual thoughts vanish as I stare up at this man. It reminds me of when I didn’t place at my first pageant. I’d been nine and devastated. Momma tried to calm me, but I was too upset. Daddy pulled me aside, dried my tears, and told me next time I’d win. That’s what Genworths do.
The next pageant, I did win.
Koyn dabs at my cheeks, cleaning the mascara and regarding me with a concerned stare. So fatherly. It makes me want to throw myself into his arms and beg him to hold me forever. I want him to care.
He washes every bit of makeup from my face and then kisses my forehead. “There. Perfect.”
I bite on my bottom lip. “Thank you for my headband.”
For one moment, the hardness in his eyes is gone. I’ve never seen him look so vulnerable and soft. I can see how he once was a caring father and husband. His lips press to mine sweetly and I whimper.
“We’ll be back in a couple of hours.” He pulls back, his mouth just inches from mine. “Can you be a good girl while I’m gone?”
“Yes.”
His hand cups my cheek. “You know it’s wrong for me to want to fucking own you.”
I shrug. “Because I look like your little girl did.”