REINA
“Why did you call me father,” he asked between strokes, voice rough and wicked. “While your husband spoke to you.”
“Because you are,” I whispered, losing the last of my shame. “Because you are my bad choice. Because you make me feel owned.”
“Say it,” he said.
“You own my p***y,” I breathed, and watched heat flash through his eyes like lightning in dark water.
“Again.”
“You own my p***y, daddy.”
He groaned and closed his mouth over me like he wanted to swallow the words straight out of my body. I bit down on the heel of my hand to keep quiet. He pulled my hips to his face and let my legs clamp around his neck and did not stop even when my heels dug into his back and the water rocked as if a wind had risen. He ate me like a punishment and a reward.
He ate me like he would neve
