Then his hand trails lower, back to my stomach.
He rests his palm there, flat. “I’m going to claim you completely,” he says. “I’m going to keep fucking you until it takes, until you’re round with my seed. And I’m not going to stop fucking you then either.”
I bite my lip, because that scares me worse. It’s not the first time he’s brought that up. Starting a family. Making me pregnant. Getting turned on by the thought. I’m still on the pill now, and he’s never asked me to stop. Right now it’s just talk—an extension of the dirty talk he whispers in my ear every night. But even as just talk…
God, it terrifies me. Not because I think he’ll abandon me like my parents did or all the foster parents that came after. At least I don’t think he will. More that I’m scared of what kind of mother I’ll be. I never grew up with one.
The closest thing I had to a parent was Mrs. Owens, an older woman who was my foster mom for a few months before they pulled me out again. Once I turned eighteen, I looked her up and found her house in disrepair, her Alzheimer’s getting worse every day. I ended up spending more time taking care of her than she did of me—not that I begrudged her that—but I am the last person who knows what a good mother is like. The last person to know what a family is like.
Blue’s eyes darken. He leans forward, and the brush of a kiss on my forehead is more gentle than anything that came before—or anything that will happen next. “I’m claiming you because you’re the strongest, most courageous, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met in my entire fucking life.”
Now I’m fighting the bonds on my wrist in earnest. It’s one thing for him to use me, for him to degrade me and fuck me raw. It’s another entirely for him to compliment me. I’m not made for that. I’m not used to it. It makes me itch from the inside out, like I don’t fit in my own skin.
“Shh,” he soothes, petting me, stroking me.
I don’t calm down, can’t calm down, until he pinches my nipples. The bite of pain brings me back to this bed. Sometimes it’s the only thing that can bring me back. I see a flash of disappointment across his face, so quick it might never have been there.
He understands how hard this is for me. He could whip me bloody and it wouldn’t be as hard as this—as letting myself hope for the future.
The only time I’ve ever had anything, the brief moment in time when Blue was my foster brother and he cared about me, almost loved me, I’d lost him. I think he isn’t going to leave me. I know damn well I’d never leave him. But it’s hard not to think, to fear, in my darkest moments, that I’ll lose him again.
He pinches my other nipple, harder this time, and a cry escapes me.
“That’s right,” he says, his voice stern. “You focus on me. Understand?”
It’s that low timbre that has me nodding yes. I’d do anything he orders me to in that voice, give anything to please him when he’s like this, greedy and harsh.
He rises up to kneel and kicks one knee across me, straddling my chest. “Now you’re going to suck me until I’m ready to fuck you again, got it? We’re going to keep doing this until your pussy is full, aren’t we? And then I’m going to set you up with a pillow under your ass and let all that seed work its way up.”
God. His words shouldn’t turn me on so much, but my hips are already rising up, begging to be filled.
He just gives me a low chuckle and presses his cock against my lips. “Suck.”
I open my mouth as he pushes inside. My hands are still tied to the headboard, my head supported by a pillow. I can barely move at all—instead I just lie there while he fucks my mouth. I don’t have a choice, and that makes it hotter.
He can fuck me shallow or deep, fast or slow. He can shove all the way inside and cut off my air. He’ll do all of those in turn, first letting me run my tongue ar
ound the head of his cock, tasting the flavor of his come and my arousal coating him.
Then he pushes in deep, rubbing the crest against the back of my throat until I gag. The way his hands tighten in my hair, I know it turns him on to hear me make the sound. Especially when he pulls out and pushes back in, relishing the way I struggle for him.
“Yeah,” he says, voice drunk, eyes dark slits as he stares down at me. “Work for it, beautiful. Make me good and hard.”
He’s already hard, but I can’t tell him that—not with my mouth full of his thick cock. I can’t do anything but suck in ragged breaths when he lets me, stroke him with my tongue when I can.
His fist tightens to the point of pain, and tears spring to my eyes, blurring my vision. I don’t need to see him to know what comes next. He’s holding me steady so he can fuck my mouth, fast and hard. He keeps up a steady rhythm. I manage to breathe through my nose, and for a few minutes it feels like I can handle him.
Then he speeds up and goes deeper.
I gag around him, but there’s no time to recover, no time to react. I can only struggle and fight against my ties, against him—I can only fight against the world while he invades me, relentless and cruel.
The doorbell rings.
He freezes. Carefully, he pulls back enough so that I can breathe and swallow. But his cock is still filling my mouth. I can’t talk as I look up at him.
“Who the fuck?” he mutters.
His head is cocked like he’s listening. Probably hoping they’ll go away, whoever they are.