VINCENT
The image was so depraved it should have killed my erection. Instead it made me f**k her harder. Made me grip her hips and slam her down onto me while I thrust up to meet her, driving deep, deeper than last night, deeper than I knew was possible.
I wanted to breed her. The word sat in my brain like a living thing. Breed. Not make love to. Not get pregnant. Breed. Like she was something feral I was putting my mark on. Something I was claiming at the most biological level — filling her with myself, planting something inside her that would grow and announce to the world that she was mine in a way that could never be undone.
“Right there, Daddy!” She was close. I could feel it — her walls fluttering, her thighs trembling, her rhythm getting desperate. “I’m going to come—”
“Come on
