In the Judge’s Bed

Chapter 2

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His hands traced over every curve of me again, fingers exploring, kneading, marking, until my breath caught in a trembling gasp. I writhed beneath him, hips lifting, back arching involuntarily as the heat pooled, spread, and burned through me.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, voice low, rough, vibrating through me like electricity. “Do you know how much I’ve wanted you like this?”

“Yes… yes, Daddy… I want you too…” I moaned, trembling, clinging to him, nails digging into his shoulders, desperate to feel more of him, to be taken harder, deeper.

He smiled, dark and possessive, leaning closer, lips brushing my ear. “You’re mine. Every inch. Every sound. Every moan. Do you understand?”

“Yes… I’m yours… completely yours,” I gasped, body shaking under his touch, craving him in ways I didn’t even know I could.

And then he changed pace, slow at first, teasing, drawing out the tension until I thought I might explode from need alone. Every inch, every thrust, every graze of skin against skin was designed to drive me wild. I moaned uncontrollably, back arching, fingers clutching at the sheets as he built me up, built me higher, until I was on the brink again and again.

“You’re so responsive… so perfect for me,” he whispered, his breath hot against my neck. “I love how you give yourself to me… how completely you’re mine.”

“I’m yours… always yours, Daddy… please…” I gasped, desperate, shaking, my body trembling with need. “Don’t stop…”

He didn’t. He increased the pace, his body controlling mine entirely, dominating, consuming, driving me closer to the edge with every movement. I lost myself in him, in the fire between us, in the unrelenting pleasure he commanded.

My toes curled, legs trembling uncontrollably as my first orgasm hit, sharp, overwhelming, a wave of heat that left me shuddering and gasping. But he didn’t let me rest. Not yet.

“Not done,” he murmured, a growl vibrating through his chest as he shifted, pressing me against him again, moving with precision, taking me higher, faster, deeper. My body quivered under him, eyes rolling back, moaning his name as he claimed me again and again.

I could feel every mark he left, every whisper, every groan, embedding itself into me. He was relentless, unyielding, absolute in his domination. And I loved it. Loved the way he made me feel, loved how utterly I was consumed by him.

Hours—or what felt like hours—passed in a blur of touch, moans, whispered declarations, and raw, unrestrained lust. He teased me, toyed with me, drove me insane with desire, and each time I thought I might collapse, he pulled me higher, breaking me apart only to rebuild me again with pleasure.

“I own you,” he growled one last time, pressing me down, teeth grazing my shoulder. “Every inch. Every thought. Every shiver. You’re mine.”

“Yes… yes, Daddy… I’m yours… please… please take me completely…” I begged, trembling in his arms, clinging to him, desperate to feel every moment, every touch, every command.

And then, finally, the final wave hit. Explosive, overwhelming, consuming every part of me as I screamed his name, shivering violently, clinging to him as he moved inside me, claiming me fully, utterly, completely.

We collapsed together in the aftermath, sweat-slicked, gasping, hearts racing, bodies entwined. His hands lingered over me, tracing, marking, reminding me of the ownership I craved so badly.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, lips brushing my ear. “Perfect. Mine. Always mine.”

“I’m yours… completely… always…” I whispered back, heat still burning through me, trembling from the intensity of our union.

We stayed like that for a long moment, limbs tangled, bodies spent, and yet still craving, still hungry for each other. Outside, the world demanded composure, professionalism, untouchable facades. Here, in the sanctuary of our desire, there were no rules, no boundaries—only us, only fire, only the undeniable truth: I belonged to him, and he to me.

Even as our breathing slowed, the aftershocks of ecstasy lingered, making my skin tingle and my nerves hum. He pressed his forehead to mine, a soft, intimate moment in the midst of our wild, unrelenting passion.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, voice gentle, intimate, possessive. “No one else. Never anyone else.”

“Yes… yours… completely…” I breathed, letting the words sink into me, letting the truth of our connection, our obsession, our shared fire, anchor me.

And as he held me, strong, protective, possessive, I realized that in this room, with the world shut out and the rules forgotten, we were exactly as we were meant to be:

Two bodies, one desire, bound by lust, obsession, and an unbreakable, all-consuming claim.